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3. Dead Butterflies, a Left Hook, and a Lover's Spat

That, I hadn't expected.  Jeremiah and Stephen had been friends since first grade. They were more brothers than they were friends. I couldn't ever see them hurting one another intentionally.

"What?!"

"I'm. Gonna. Kill. Him."

He hopped to his feet and stalked away in the direction of Stephen's house. The house I just ran away from. In tears.

"Jeremiah! Wait!"

He kept walking. His entire body was tense. I ran after him and grabbed him by his arm. He spun around, going rigid under my touch. I saw that his jaw was set angrily.

"I..," I didn't know what to say.

He turned back around and began walking again. I had to jog to keep up with him. I didn't know what I could say or do to stop him. I didn't know if I could stop him. I didn't know if I wanted to stop him. Before I knew it we were back at Stephen's house. I stopped at Stephen's driveway; my feet refused to go any further. I swear I could feel my hear re-breaking as I flashed back to this morning. I could feel all the butterflies dieing all over again.

Jeremiah bounded up the stairs of the front porch and pounded on the door. Stephen swung open the door, his baby-blue eyes alert and his face twisted angrily. He was about to start yelling when Jeremiah threw a left hook across hi face.

"What the hell man!"

He pushed Jeremiah off the porch. Within seconds Stephen was in Jeremiah's face.

"Stephen?"

I turned away from the screaming boys and saw Stephen's little brother, Mason, standing in the door way with wide-eyes. I ran past Stephen and Jeremiah without even thinking, straight up to Mason.

"Cassidy?"

"Hey Sweetie!" I plastered a huge fake smile onto my face.

"What's wrong with Stephen and Jeremy?

I looked down into his deep blue eyes. How could I tell this sweet seven year old boy that his brother just got punched in the face?

"There just having a little lover's spat. Why don't you go inside and play with your toys. I'll take care of it, okay?"

"Okay."

I shut the door and turned back to the fight.

"What the hell is she doinghere?!"

"I found her walking home crying because of you! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Why don't you mind your own buisness!"

Stephen pushed Jeremiah. Jeremiah pushd back, and before I could blink they were both throwing punches and rolling around on the front lawn.

"Stop it!"

I ran towards them. Jeremiah was on top of Stephen and about to deliver another blow. I grabbed his arm before he could swing.

"Stop it! He's not worth it!"

Jeremiah turned to look at me. His cheek had a cut on it and the corner of his mouth was spotted with blood.

 

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