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Harriet covered her mouth with her hands.
Normally, she prided herself on keeping her cool, but these guys had a gun to her girlfriend’s head, so she figured she could be excused.
They were never having or going to another party again.
Sonya wasn’t crying or screaming, either. No, she was glaring at the men holding her. Across from her, Harriet could see Thomas doing the same, but he and Minho were both mouthing off.
For geniuses, they were dumbasses.
The man holding the gun to Sonya’s head pushed her to her knees.
“Give us all the booze you have!” He demanded.
Harriet wanted to cry.
These guys had burst into a teen party with weapons for alcohol ?
“We don’t have any.” Harriet told him. None of their friend group drank in large groups or around strangers. And since this was Harriet’s party, there were no drinks.
The man leaned in close, and Harriet could smell the beer on him.
So two dozen drunk guys had crushed her party for alcohol that wasn’t even here?
Fantastic.
Harriet took a step back, like she was scared. Then she kicked the guy in the face.
A gun went off, near her. But Harriet barely registered the noise, she was too busy throwing punches.
Then Sonya, Thomas, and Minho were fighting to her sides and back. Someone called the Neighborhood Watch, someone (Alby, probably, or maybe Chuck) was filming, and they were fighting.
When the Watch got there, things calmed.
“Harriet, can you sit down for me, please?” Sonya asked. Thomas and Minho were already on the floor, leaning against each other. Thomas had a nasty bruise already on forming on his face and a couple of his fingers were bent weird.
He hadn’t been shot.
Minho was bleeding--or had been--from a cut over his eye, but he seemed fine. Harriet turned to Sonya next, and was relieved to see she had only minimal bruising.
“Harriet, sit down.” Sonya looked a bit frightened, now, so Harriet listened.
“You’re going to be fine.” Why was Sonya acting like this? Harriet touched her hands to her face. Was she hurt and didn’t know it?
As she put her arms on her lap, they brushed her sides.
She saw stars, vision going dark with pain, then blood, as it coated her hands.
Oh.
She was the one who had been shot.
No wonder Sonya had wanted her to sit down.
“You’re gonna be okay, Harriet, it, it just grazed you, okay? But we still need to put pressure on it.”
Harriet blacked out right around then.
She came to at Sonya’s voice.
“Morning, love. You got twenty stitches in the hospital room, but we were allowed to bring you home because you weren’t falling into a coma or anything.” Harriet stretched and winced. She must be on good painkillers, though, to hardly feel it.
“Hey, Sonya, dear heart.” Harriet smiled.
“Thomas and Minho are outside-”
“Nope. They can wait. I want to cuddle my girlfriend.” Harriet made grabby hands at Sonya, and she rolled her eyes but climbed in bed--her own bed, Harriet noted with no little amusement. They hadn’t brought her to her home, but to Sonya’s.
Sonya curled up carefully along her uninjured side.
“First, we are never throwing another party again. Second, we kicked ass and that was awesome. Third:” Harriet raised her voice here, “Thomas and Minho may join us for a puppy pile in an hour, and they better than food.” Sonya laughed, resting her head on Harriet’s shoulder.
As poorly as the party had ended up going, Harriet and her friends were safe and healing. Soon they’d be making bad jokes about this whole thing.
Yeah, Harriet was alright.