JEREMY WENT TO WAR

Jeremy sat on the merry-go-round, chucking little stones into the sand around it.  He knew if he looked up he'd still see them, fleeing across the soccer field.  He heard Ryan whining as he ran, "It still HURTS!"  Jeremy smiled at that, staring blankly down at the sand as he pressed a wad of paper towels onto one of his many scrapes.  His arm was scuffed up and bloodied, as was his nose.  There was a sticky cut under his hair on the very top of his head, but Jeremy was more worried about the obvious stuff that might get noticed by his dad.  He reached up under his t-shirt and pulled out the thick magazines he'd had taped around his ribs.  He saw a guy do that on one of the grown-up TV shows his dad watched, on pay cable with the swearing.  His armor had helped him, but not as much as the rolls of nickels he had hidden in his little fists.  Jeremy slowly looked up to see them limping away in the distance.  Ryan, Austin, Noah, Other Ryan- it had been a crazy fight.  Jeremy had been scared the whole time, four kids against one was a bad match-up.  But he was even more scared to lose.  So he fought like a crazy nut.  Running and jumping, throwing loaded punches fast and furious before rolling away under the swings, flinging the swings right into Noah's stupid face, jumping off the slides with both both feet right on Other Ryan's stupid fat face- and in the end, he actually won.  He won.  They had the numbers, but Jeremy?  He had the heart.  That's what his dad was gonna say when he got home.  Jeremy just knew it.