The jock leaped onto the center walkway where the waitresses skated back and forth and slapped the cell phone from Kennedy’s hand. Hoping the dispatcher could still hear him, Kennedy shouted out the license plate number on the car. Within seconds, all four boys were on Kennedy. He wasn’t too worried. There was only one hamburger joint in town, so the authorities knew where to go even without a business name or address, and Kennedy could hold his own until they arrived.

“I don’t want any trouble!” Kennedy yelled at the towheaded teen and backed up a couple of steps. “But be warned. If you start it, I’ll finish it!” From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl slumped against the side of the car. “Run! Get inside the building!” he told her.

Kennedy hoped the girl could manage to get inside. She probably knew the boys’ names to identify them when the cops arrived. If she could escape into the building, Kennedy wouldn’t have to fight. He could just jump back in his truck and lock the doors. But he saw the girl try to push off on her skates and fall to the ground. As she struggled to get back up, the skates kept rolling out from under her.

Sometimes a guy had no choice but to fight.

Kennedy’s instinct to survive kicked in. He glimpsed the flash of a knife blade and started swinging. He was no scrapper. He had always preferred to talk his way out of a confrontation. But his father had taught him how to throw a punch, and Wyatt had taken over from there. Kennedy had spent many hours wrestling and play-fighting with his older brother. All that training came to his aid now.

Kennedy took a few punches from the boys, but he returned them with more force. By the time a county sheriff’s vehicle sped into the parking lot, the fight was almost over. The kid with the whitish-blond hair knelt on the concrete, holding his middle and puking. The jock was staggering around and holding his face, with blood dripping through his fingers. The other two boys saw the cop and ran.

More county vehicles pulled up. An older man, probably the new owner of the burger joint, emerged from the building. Two deputies took off into the woods after the runaways. The other boys were too banged up to attempt an escape and started saying that Kennedy had taken the first punch.

“That isn’t true!” the young lady cried. With the help of a female deputy, she had gained her feet but leaned heavily against the law officer to keep her balance. “They jumped me! They put their hands on me!” Her voice began to shake, and she made a mewling sound. “They said they were going to take me into the woods and rape me!”

“That’s a lie!” the jock yelled. “She’s just pissed off because I broke up with her last week, and she’s trying to get me in trouble.”