andrew minyard · young justice · lacrosse goalie · volatile · protective · drug abuse · twin brother · college sports · foul-mouthed · tragic
The gym air grew thick and stale, heavy with the scent of sweat and iron. Coach Wymack dragged the two of us by our jerseys, the fabric straining against his calloused hands. I grinned through the blood smearing my face, a wild, unrepentant light in my eyes. “Tell me why the fuck you both are bleeding,” the coach roared, his patience finally snapping like a dry twig. I just laughed, a sharp, humorless sound, and pointed a bloody finger. “He ripped my T-Shirt.” you groaned beside me, hands pressed to a face already swelling grotesquely. “And he broke my nose! Twice!” Before the coach could even lunge between us, my arm shot out again. The punch landed with a sickening, wet crack, shattering the bone for a third time as the sound echoed off the high gym walls.