around his neck, and slams it down into the grass. For a second I wonder if Hardin would have done the same were we on the concrete porch or near the fire pit stones, and I feel like my answer comes in the form of Hardin raising one fist high and slamming it into Dan’s jaw.
“Hardin!” I scream and climb to my feet. Everyone else just stares, Jace seeming amused and even Ronnie entertained.
“Stop him!” I beg, but Jace shakes his head as Hardin’s fist connects again to Dan’s already bloody face.
“This has been coming for a while; let them hash it out.” He smirks at me. “Want a drink?”
“What? No, I don’t want a drink! What the hell is wrong with you!” I yell.
A crowd has now gathered around and people are cheering on the fight. I have yet to see Dan hit Hardin, for which I’m glad, but I definitely want Hardin to stop hurting Dan. I’m too afraid to try to stop him myself, so when Zed appears in the yard, I yell for him. His eyes find me immediately and he jogs over.
“Stop him, please!” I yell. Everyone seems excited about this except me. If Hardin keeps hitting him, he will kill him. I know it.
Zed gives me a quick nod and takes a few steps over to Hardin. He wraps his fist into Hardin’s shirt and pulls him backward. Hardin is caught off guard, so he’s easily separated from Dan’s prone body. Enraged, Hardin takes a swing at Zed, but Zed dodges his fist and puts both of his hands on Hardin’s shoulders. He says something to Hardin that I can’t make out and then nods his head toward me. Hardin’s eyes are blazing, his knuckles bloody and his shirt ripped from Zed’s grip. His chest is pumping up and down rapidly, like he’s a wild animal after a kill. I don’t make a move to walk toward him; I know how angry he is at me. I can tell. I am not afraid of Hardin the way I probably should be. Even though I just witnessed him completely losing his temper in the worst way possible, I know that he would never physically hurt me.
With the excitement winding down, almost everyone begins to move back inside the house. Dan’s crumpled body lies on the ground and Jace leans down to help him up. He stumbles to his feet and lifts his shirt up to wipe his bloody face off, spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva that makes me look away.
Hardin’s head turns to look where Dan is and he tries to take a step toward him. Zed holds Hardin tight to stop him.
“Fuck you, Scott!” Dan yells. Jace steps between them. Oh, now he wants to do something. “Just wait until your little—” Dan shouts.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jace snaps and Dan’s mouth closes.
Dan looks at me and I take a step back. I wonder what Jace meant by “this has been coming for a while.” Hardin and Dan seemed fine together a few minutes ago.
“Go inside!” Hardin yells, and I immediately know that he is talking to me.
I decide to listen to him, for once, and turn around and run into the house. I know that everyone is staring at me but I don’t care. I push my way through the crowded house and rush up to Hardin’s room. I must have forgotten to lock it when I left, and, to add to my horror, there is a big red spot on the carpet. Someone must have stumbled in here and spilled a drink on the tan carpet. Great. I hurry to the bathroom and grab a towel and turn the sink on. I lock Hardin’s door once I step inside and furiously wipe the stain, but the water only spreads the spot and makes it much worse. The door clicks and I try to stand before he enters.
“What the hell are you doing?” His eyes move to the towel in my hand then to the spot on the floor.
“Someone . . . I forgot to lock the door when I went downstairs,” I say and look at him. His nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I say.
The anger is radiating off him and I can’t even be angry with him because all of this is my fault. If I would have just listened to him and stayed in the room, none of this would have happened.