The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, JulAug 2023 by The Magazine of Fantasy && Science Fiction & Sheree Renée Thomas Editor

Author:The Magazine of Fantasy && Science Fiction & Sheree Renée Thomas, Editor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction, Fantasy fiction, Short fiction, Maqazine
Publisher: Spilogale, Inc.
Published: 2023-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

• • •

The sixth graders were too big and too fast. Gene ducked through the ring of bodies around them, sliding his phone arm between squealing students for a better angle. Blood from Ja’Michael’s busted lip dribbled into his chin’s peach fuzz. Gene inched further out from the safe wall of instigating kids. Going viral meant chasing the blood.

“Jay, chill, he’s had enough!” someone shouted.

“Nah! He finna learn to watch his mouth!”

Ja’Michael darted forward and swung. The other sixth grader’s feet actually left the floor. He slumped to his knees. The ring of watchers compressed, phones extended like so many teeth to pick the trauma clean. Gene’s heel caught someone’s shell top and down he tumbled. The world dissolved into shouting, sneaker squeaks on peeling linoleum, muffled grunts as the fight rolled over him. Gene curled protectively around his phone, heart thrumming, but still snatching footage.

The other sixth grader—Gene didn’t know his name—flopped into view. Tears and dirt smeared over his bruised cheek and jaw. Raw misery quivered in his eyes, feral palms slapping against plate-glass windows. Face to face, Gene held his phone steady. The boy rolled away with a snarl. Ja’Michael’s foot replaced him and hammered into Gene’s ribs.

“Oh shit! Sorry, little man!”

The ring of students scattered, and someone kicked his phone loose. Dazed, Gene recognized a teacher’s shout as he groped for his phone, trying to breathe. Today marked the third fight in a month at this new charter, but Gene never told his dad about them. That might mean moving again, starting all over again.

A hand closed around his phone and extended it to him. Gene picked himself up, clutching his stomach as he trawled through his memory for a name. Cooper. They were in the same Spanish class, and about as different as Gene could imagine. Cooper stood a bit taller and silly-skinny, light-skinned with cinnamon eyes sharp enough to cheat off a test two desks away. He got in trouble for sharing snacks whenever he wasn’t nodding off. Ms. Dominguez never sat them at the same pod. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Sorry about your phone.”

“Oh, crap.” Fine cracks spidered across the blinking screen. “My dad’s going to be pissed.”

The resource officer strode past, some sort of thorny tattoo peeking out from under the sleeves of his too-tight Duke Prep shirt. His eyes narrowed like he had spotted the imprint of Ja’Michael’s kick and wanted to blame Gene. “You two is late,” he finally barked. “Get a move on!”

Relieved, Gene stepped quick. To his surprise, Cooper fell in beside him. “You ever been in a fight before?”

“I don’t think that counts. They weren’t fighting me.”

“But you were in it…like inside of it! I could’ve never done that.”

“I guess I was.” Gene held in a smile. His stomach throbbed with every step, but he tried out a little swagger. It felt good. “Kinda like a fight documentary.”

“Or an enema.” Cooper laughed too loudly. Gene laughed, too, although he didn’t know what that word meant. He’d look it up later on his phone.

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