you little prick. Stay away from her or I will kick the crap out of your sorry ass."
"Dude, I didn't know you were dating her." Jake responded, keeping his hands to his sides and trying to stay calm. "If I had, I wouldn't have asked her to Senior Prom. Chill out, it wasn't a big deal."
"I think someone trying to poach my girlfriend is a big deal. You heard me; stay away from her or you will be spending prom in the hospital." Donald replied, glaring at Jake.
"It is going to a bit hard to stay away from her since I have her in two periods." Jake replied sarcastically, feeling trapped between his desire to get out of this without fighting and not being seen as a coward with all of his classmates watching. "What do expect me to do...act as if she is not there? Man, I said I didn't know that you two were dating. Move on, it's over."
"You have a smart mouth, asshole." Donald spat as he took a step forward, fists rising. "Let's do this."
Jake stepped back, as John and Robert moved to block off his ability to move right or left, mind racing to figure out how he was going to get out of this. Despite not wanting to look the coward, he was unsure about his ability to fight one person, let alone three opponents. He was also aware that all of the eyes around the picnic area were on him. He did not want to look like a wuss by running away, but wasn't sure if getting beat up in front of all of his classmates would be any better.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw someone move up next to him. The person spoke. "You want to mess with someone three-on-one, how about giving me a try?" Jake recognized Michael Yount's voice.
Mike, as he preferred to be called, had once been a close friend of Jake's. He was a little shorter than Jake, but very muscular. Mike and Jake had played youth and freshman football together. Even then, Mike had been built and always seemed to be the strongest and toughest guy in the group.
Jake could still vividly remember the hit Mike laid on him in freshman football. They were running some full contact drills at practice when Jake was given the ball on offense and Mike was playing linebacker. Jake had come out of the backfield and slipped around the edge of the line. The quarterback saw that and threw to Jake. He caught the ball and turned upfield. He had only taken a couple of steps when he felt like he had been hit in the side by a truck. One moment he was running; the next he was on the ground, laying on his side, sucking for air. Through the sweat, dirt and grass in his eyes, he saw Mike standing over him. Mike stood there grinning until he realized that Jake was hurt. After that, Mike had appointed himself Jake's mother hen while his bruised ribs healed. If Mike thought that anyone hit Jake too hard, he let them know. For a while, the hits were half-hearted at best; the defenders had one eye on Jake and one on Mike.
Unfortunately, ever since his dad died unexpectedly the summer before their junior year, Mike had drifted away from Jake and the other guys with whom he had played football. He began to skip classes and got into a couple of fights after school. In one fight, he had knocked the guy cold with one punch. He had gone to juvenile hall for about a month for that. Once he returned, he started to spend more and more time with some of the least savory characters at school. With his obvious strength and a sudden reputation of being willing to fight at the drop of a hat, most sane people avoided making Mike an enemy. Luckily, he was still friendly with Jake.
"This doesn't involve you, Mike, so why don't you just back..." Donald started confidently, only to realize that John and Robert were slowly backing away. They had played football with Mike and knew what he could do. Mike just stood there looking at him with a slight smile on his face, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists, his muscles flexing and looking as if they were going to rip apart his short sleeved shirt. Donald swallowed nervously. "Look, I don't want any trouble with you. This is