Chapter 10: The Brawl
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Miles stepped back, holding his hands up in apology. "Sorry about that, really didn't mean to," he said, his face heating up from embarrassment more than the spilled drink.
The student, a guy with an athletic build and a sharp jawline, assessed Miles coolly. "Just watch where you're going next time, man," he said, his tone cooling as he brushed off his soaked shirt, which seemed more an accessory than a piece of clothing due to its minimal coverage.
Miles apologized once more as the thumping beats of the party rumbled through the crowded room. Miles's momentary scuffle with the football player he had accidentally bumped into seemed to dissolve into the loud night.
The football player, a tall, broad-shouldered guy known on campus as Derrick, gave Miles a final nod of acknowledgment, allowing the incident to slide without further confrontation.
Brushing off the tension, Miles scanned the room. The party was in full swing, with clusters of students laughing, dancing, and chatting energetically.
Tara, was encircled by a group of admirers, her laughter ringing clear even over the music. Miles knew approaching her now would be futile and perhaps a bit too bold even for his taste.
His gaze drifted, and he soon noticed a girl sitting alone in a corner, looking decidedly out of place.
She was pretty, with her hair styled in soft waves that framed her face, and makeup that accentuated her features without seeming overdone.
She wore a simple yet elegant black dress that highlighted her fine figure, and one earbud was plugged in, the other dangling by her side as if she was halfway between wanting isolation and being ready to engage.
Intrigued, Miles walked over to her, rehearsing a few opening lines in his mind. As he approached, he noticed her tapping her foot slightly—signs of a rhythm that caught her interest despite her outward disinterest.
"Hey, tough crowd tonight, huh?" Miles started, offering a friendly smile.
The girl glanced up, her expression unmoved. "Looks like it's just the right crowd for some," she replied dryly, her eyes flicking back to her phone.
Miles chuckled, not deterred. "I couldn't help but notice you're listening to The Arctic Monkeys. 'Do I Wanna Know?' is playing right? Great taste."
Her interest piqued slightly, and she pulled out her other earbud, giving him a more attentive look. "You know them?" she asked, a trace of surprise in her tone.
"Yeah, love them. Their beats, their lyrics—just sets the right mood, doesn't it?" Miles leaned against the wall casually, feeling the conversation start to shift.
She smiled slightly, relaxing a bit more. "I'm Sarah, by the way. And yeah, it does set a mood—one that's clearly not in sync with whatever this party's trying to be."
Miles laughed. "I'm Miles. And yeah, I was dragged here by a friend. Suppose we're both out of our elements."
Their conversation was interrupted suddenly as a passerby, a bit too caught up in the festivities, stumbled and knocked a bottle off a nearby table which was atop an exalted platform.
Reacting swiftly, Miles caught the bottle inches from Sarah's head, smoothly setting it aside.
"Mind if I sit? Since we were both ditched by our respective plus ones, nothing wrong with us mingling," Miles suggested with a grin, the ease of their banter growing.
"Sure, why not," Sarah responded, her initial reserve fading into a more comfortable demeanor.
As they chatted, Miles's charm and humor began to surface more prominently. He cracked a few jokes about meeting The Flash and Sarah laughed.
"You're full of surprises, aren't you, Miles?" she said, her cheeks tinged with a blush.
Encouraged by her warmth, Miles asked, "How about we add a bit of dance to this unexpected night? I promise to be a good lead, even if you claim two left feet."
Sarah hesitated, then smiled, accepting his extended hand. "Okay, but if I step on your toes, you brought this on yourself."
As they made their way to the dance floor, Miles's charm was effortless, and he sprinkled the conversation with light-hearted jokes that hinted at superhero antics without revealing any truth. "You know, dancing is my second-best superpower," he quipped with a wink, keeping the mood playful and flirty.
Sarah laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Oh really? And here I was thinking it was your ability to catch flying bottles," she teased, recalling how he had smoothly saved her from a potential mishap.
"Ah, that's actually somewhere down the list," Miles responded, his tone mock-serious. "Top secret, though—I can't disclose all my powers at once."
They moved together with the music, Miles leading confidently but with a gentle touch that made Sarah feel both at ease and exhilarated. The pulsing lights of the party cast colorful shadows around them, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to blur into the background.
As the song neared its end, the proximity between them grew, and the playful banter turned into shared smiles and lingering looks.
The atmosphere charged with an electric connection, their bodies moved closer still, drawn by a mutual attraction that neither had anticipated.
Caught in the moment, and feeling bold under the cloak of the dance floor's anonymity, Sarah found herself leaning in closer to Miles.
His presence was intoxicating, and the flutter in her chest grew as their faces drew near. In her mind, the thought flickered, 'I can't believe I'm this drawn to someone I just met,' yet the pull was undeniable.
'I would blame it on the alcohol but I've not had any tonight yet.'
Just as their lips were inches apart, the potential kiss poised to seal the unexpected connection, a loud, irate voice shattered the moment: "What do you think you're doing with my girl?!"
They broke apart abruptly, turning to see Derrick, the football player from earlier, his expression a mix of anger and betrayal.
Miles raised his hands in a gesture of peace, trying to diffuse the tension. "Hey man, we were just dancing. It was all in good fun, nothing serious," he explained, hoping to calm the situation without escalating it further.
Derrick's scowl deepened, his gaze flicking between Sarah and Miles. "Doesn't look like 'just dancing' to me," he retorted, stepping closer, his body tense.
Sarah, recovering from the shock, stepped forward, her voice firm yet calm. "Derrick, I came here on my own. Miles was just being nice, and we got carried away with the dance, that's all."
Derrick, fueled by jealousy and anger, carelessly shoved Sarah aside to confront Miles more directly.
Sarah stumbled backward, her shoulder slamming into a nearby pillar with a painful thud. The shock and pain were evident on her face as she clutched at her shoulder, wincing.
Miles, witnessing this, felt a surge of anger wash over him. "Hey! Watch it, Derrick!" he yelled, his voice booming over the music, which had lowered slightly as the crowd started to sense the brewing conflict.
Derrick face contorted with rage as he swung a wild punch at Miles, who nimbly dodged to the side. "How dare you come close to my girl!" Derrick bellowed, his fists clenched and ready for another go.
The party-goers, sensing the drama, began to chant in unison, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" The energy in the room shifted palpably, with everyone's attention now riveted on the unfolding scene.
Tara, along with the other popular kids, had their interest piqued by the commotion and quickly gathered around to watch the spectacle. Their eyes were wide with intrigue and excitement as they whispered among themselves about the drama.
Ron, just returning from the washroom upstairs, caught snippets of conversation about a fight. "What's going on? Who's fighting?" he asked a passerby, his concern mounting.
"Some unknown kid with black hair and Derrick. It's getting pretty heated," replied a fellow student, nodding towards the growing crowd.
Ron's eyes widened in realization. "Shit!" he cursed under his breath, recognizing the description could only match one person—Miles. Sprinting towards the crowd, he pushed through just in time to see Miles evading another of Derrick's poorly aimed swings.
"Stop running like a pussy and face me!" Derrick taunted, his voice laced with mockery and anger.
"Enough, Derrick!" Ron shouted as he reached them, grabbing Derrick by the shoulder and pulling him back forcefully. "Back off, man!"
Derrick, recognizing Ron, hesitated but his anger was far from quelled. "Don't interfere, Ron! This kid needs to learn not to touch what's not his," Derrick spat out, jerking his shoulder to shake off Ron's grip.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some expressing disappointment at Ron's intervention, others eagerly speculating on the outcome. "Ron's ruining the fun!" "I wanted to see that kid get his face bashed in!"
Knowing the volatile situation needed a resolution that didn't involve an actual fight, Ron quickly thought of an alternative. "Listen up!" he called out, gaining the crowd's attention. "How about we settle this like men? A rugby football game between you two. Whoever wins has to kowtow and apologize to the other. What do you say?"
The suggestion was met with a mix of reactions. Cheers, jeers, and lots of chatter filled the air as the crowd considered this new proposal.
Tara, intrigued, leaned in to whisper to a friend, "This could be interesting."
Sarah, still rubbing her shoulder but relieved that the physical fight had been halted, looked on with a mix of anxiety and curiosity.
Derrick, after a moment's consideration and perhaps realizing that outright fighting might not end well with Ron involved, nodded grudgingly. "Fine, let's settle this on the field. But when I win, he'd better be ready to grovel."
Miles, who had been silent up till now, managing the situation with evasive maneuvers rather than aggression, gave Ron a thankful look. "Alright, it's a game then," he agreed, not entirely enthusiastic about the contest but recognizing it as a preferable alternative to a brawl.
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