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Justin

When I got home our house had basically exploded.

                I’d offered to go to the hospital with Rowan because even though I felt really guilty and somehow responsible for what had happened, he seemed to be holding me pretty tight like maybe he didn’t want to let go. He started to say yes but then seemed to remember that this was going to be a massive deal to Montague, and that lots of students and parents were going to turn up at the hospital once they heard, and that having a Capulet student, much less the cousin of the idiot responsible, there as well might not go down so well.

                So instead Nate and I made our way home and when we got here I almost wished I’d braved going to the hospital after all.

                Tyson was sitting on the couch in my living room with skinned knuckles, a split lip, and a slowly swelling right eye, while both our sets of parents stood around him screaming. Only, not at him. At each other.

                Like I mentioned before, Tyson’s branch of the family is way into the Montague/Capulet rivalry thing, which is probably how he ended up being so hardcore too. His dad is my mom’s brother and for some reason I guess she wasn’t always so into it when they were younger, which is why Nate and I ended up being, you know, normal.

                Anyway, the scene in the living room seemed to have descended into a sibling argument between the two of them rather than anybody having a go at Tyson for putting a kid in hospital: they were arguing over whether he’d been “right” or not.

                When we walked in it was going thusly:

                My dad was standing slightly behind my mom on one side of Tyson, while my aunt was sitting beside her son, and her husband was facing his sister as they both raised their voices. (Hey, I said my family was complicated.)

                My mom was shouting, ‘Can you hear yourself?! Do you realise how crazy you’re being?! He put a child in hospital!’

                ‘It was just boys being boys! I suppose you’re going to say that Montague brat is completely innocent in all of this?! Tyson has done nothing wrong, he’s just being loyal to his school.’

                ‘Loyal to...?’ my mom broke off in disbelief. ‘You really are deluded,’ she snapped. ‘Loyalty to one school does not mean putting the students of another in a hospital bed!’

                ‘Sometimes it does,’ my uncle retorted. ‘Those Montague delinquents obviously needed to be taught a lesson!’

                ‘Nearly killing one of them isn’t teaching them a lesson! This is just going to breed more hostility! If Tyson had a problem with that Rowan boy sneaking into their Prom he should have taken it to the principal, not beat forty shades of shit out of the boy!’

                I glanced at Nate, and neither of us could resist a small smirk at the sound of Mom saying the word “shit”. She rarely swears and always makes a little “Ooh!” sound when she does, like she’s surprised at herself. Not so this time, however, as she stood there is blazing fury, staring down her brother and looking like some frightening Amazonian warrior queen.

                ‘Actually,’ Nate interrupted calmly, ‘he didn’t beat up Rowan Montgomery.’ Obviously surprised, my uncle nevertheless shot a victorious look towards my mother. ‘He beat up a different student called Mitch.’

                My mom threw her hands in the air like she couldn’t take any more of this utter stupidity while my uncle glowered but tried to rally.

                ‘They’re all as bad as each other anyway,’ he muttered, crossing his arms and still refusing to acknowledge that his son had done anything wrong.

                ‘So essentially what you’re saying now,’ my mother snapped in disbelief, ‘is that your son beat up a random boy who’s never done anything to him – or to your precious high school – and that it’s still okay based solely on the fact that the boy attends a different high school?’

                My uncle looked suddenly uncomfortable but stuck out his jaw defensively. ‘Tyson did nothing wrong,’ he repeated stubbornly.

                My aunt stood up quietly and started to gather her handbag and coat, effectively putting an end to the argument as her son and husband readied themselves to leave too. My uncle looked me up and down before walking past me without a word, my aunt sighed and put a hand silently on my shoulder before following him, and Tyson paused only to hiss, ‘You’d better stop seeing that Monta-loser,’ and leaving too.

Rowan

Ben and I sat in the waiting room at the ER silently, oblivious to the sound of the broken TV hissing with white noise in the corner, to the other people waiting for news of friends and relatives, to the coming and going of nurses and doctors.

                We only looked up when we heard somebody calling Mitch’s name frantically and I stood so his parents could see us. His mother rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. ‘Is he okay?!’ she demanded, her voice high pitched and wobbling with unshed tears. ‘What happened?’

                Mitch’s dad flagged down a passing nurse and asked her to check on his son’s status while Ben and I tried to tell the whole story without upsetting her further.

                ‘Oh god,’ she whispered once we were finished, dropping into an empty seat with her hand over her mouth. ‘He didn’t even do anything wrong.’

                ‘No,’ Ben confirmed. ‘He stepped in to stop Tyson punching Rowan because Rowan didn’t want to fight. All he did was protect his friend.’ This wasn’t strictly true but I kept mum. It wasn’t the time.

                ‘The hospital called the police as soon as we arrived,’ I added, sitting down beside her. ‘I think they had to by law, but it will up to Mitch whether he wants to press charges or not.’

                Mitch’s dad appeared in front of us, looking sombre but relieved.

                ‘He has a concussion,’ he said, ‘and his left arm is fractured. But otherwise he’s fine.’

                ‘His arm?’ Ben and I choked simultaneously. With a broken arm Mitch wouldn’t be able to play in the game this weekend, and there were going to be scouts there. Mitch was counting on a football scholarship, and didn’t have any definite answers from any of the colleges he’d applied to so far.

                His dad nodded gravely. ‘We’ll deal with college when the time comes,’ he said. ‘Right now we’re allowed to see him.’

                He and Mitch’s mom followed a nurse out of sight, leaving Ben and I sitting in a confusing muddle of relief and dejection. Mitch was gonna be equal parts pissed and upset.

                ‘We have to do something about this,’ Ben said quietly, and I nodded in agreement. ‘I know you don’t want to fight Tyson because of Justin, but this can’t go unchecked.’

                ‘I know,’ I murmured. ‘But we can’t just go in guns blazing either. We need to be subtle.’

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I didn’t get home until well after midnight, but I still couldn’t sleep. As predicted, a dozen people had shown up at the hospital once news of Mitch’s “accident” had spread; all primarily worried but simultaneously out of Capulet blood. Tyson Andrews was officially the most wanted man in Verona.

                I lay in bed on my back, staring at the ceiling, for a few minutes before finally pulling my phone out of my pocket. It had been buzzing pretty continuously since we’d arrived at the hospital so eventually I’d just turned it off, but I switched it back on again now, wearily preparing to deal with the inbox full of people wanting to know about Mitch and what had happened.

                I scrolled through the dozens of texts, sending identical replies to each of them saying that Mitch was fine and to leave Tyson to us, until I came across a couple from Justin.

Justin 23:03

Just got home. My parents are freaking out about Tyson but his dad keeps saying he did nothing wrong >.< How is Mitch? x

Justin 00:18

I guess ur still at the hospital. I really hope Mitch is okay, and u too. I’m really sorry again. x

                Deliberating for a few minutes over how to respond, I eventually texted:

Rowan 1:28

Just back from the hospital, Mitch is fine, concussion + broken arm. Everyone’s out for Tyson’s blood... Including me. x

                After a few tense moments of wondering whether he was gonna text me back or not, my phone buzzed again.

Justin 1:34

Oh god, poor Mitch :( I know, what he did was awful, and his parents aren’t even gonna do anything about it. U should get him back during the game though. x

                I paused, thinking. That wasn’t a bad idea.

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A/N: #WIKKAWIKKAWIKKAfiller.

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