*Ember*
“Give it back!” Mikey is shouting, standing in the middle of one of the practice fields with his hands clasped over his private area. Even from two fields over, I can see he’s got tears in his eyes. “Please, Malcolm? Come on, man!”
“Oh, no,” Eric whispers at my shoulder. “That’s bad news.”
I don’t even turn to look at him, I’m so mad. Malcolm has Mikey's clothes–his shorts and underwear anyway–and he’s taunting him with them.
“I’m sorry, Tiny d**k. I can’t hear you!” Malcolm says, swinging a pair of tighty whities around in a circle above his head. “What did you say?”
“Please!” Mikey shouts. “This isn’t funny!”
“Seems pretty f*****g funny to me,’ one of Malcolm’s cronies, a tall geeky looking guy with a crooked nose, says.
I glance around. None of the trainers are out here n
