Kiss Me if You Can-Chapter 23Vol. 2

"Don’t tell me what to do with other people’s preferences!"

Just like that.

So, in the end, Josh's solution was always the same. He had used the same method many times before, and the weaklings around Emma would always disappear without a trace as soon as he even blew on them.

Despite the fact that his little sister would never understand the effort he put into protecting her.

But this was the fate of a brother with a sister. Josh consoled himself with that thought. And, as always, his loyal friends had his back.

Today, just like many times before, they all got into Josh’s car and followed the weakling’s movements. They had already gathered all the information about him, so there was no need for many words. It was an easy operation. Today, the weakling was going to volunteer at a nursing home after class. They had learned the route he took and hid around the corner to wait.

Normally, his mother would pick him up, but on volunteer days, the nursing home staff would drive him home. He had to wait for about an hour until the staff finished their work, and during that time, he would sit at the café inside the same building to do his homework. Josh and his crew planned to target that time.

"He’s coming out."

Tommy whispered quietly. The crew, with their large bodies crammed awkwardly behind the corner, waited in silence for the weakling, who seemed no bigger than half their size. The naive prey had no idea what was coming. He was walking toward them, adjusting his ugly glasses, intently looking at his phone. Probably just watching some stupid YouTube videos. That’s what everyone thought.

He's coming.

Edgar whispered with bated breath. Everyone tensed up. Having fought many battles together, they didn't need to say anything. One would move, the others would block, and another would catch the guy. In the end, they would all work together to choke him out.

And just as Tommy was about to block his path...

"Ugh!"

With a scream, the weakling was suddenly dragged away by someone.

"Oh."

Edgar unconsciously let out a surprised sound as he clumsily rose to his feet. Could it be a kidnapping? Josh thought in panic. It was unlikely that such a dramatic scenario would unfold in a quiet corner of California. Moreover, the weakling was just the second son of a very ordinary family, barely getting by.

Before anyone could speak, they each moved swiftly. Something was wrong. They ran outside and started looking around for the weakling.

"There!"

Edgar pointed in one direction and rushed toward it. The others followed him, heading toward the rear of the building. There, they witnessed an unexpected scene.

"Ugh, ugh..."

The weakling was being held by his collar, hanging in the air and groaning in pain. Surrounding him were huge, monstrous figures—remarkably, they matched the number of Josh's group.

"What the hell?"

"What’s going on?"

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

Each side exchanged similar questions and exclamations. The moment they recognized each other's faces, both groups realized why their numbers had matched up.

"Josh."

The guy holding the weakling's collar muttered through clenched teeth. Josh glared at him and spat out, "Wilson."

The two of them stood there, glaring at each other for a while, both sides tense, waiting for someone to make a move. Josh remembered the conversation he'd overheard in the locker room earlier. At the same time, Wilson hissed through his gritted teeth.

"What are you doing in this neighborhood, you cowardly country bumpkins?"

Without reacting to the provocation, Josh responded leisurely, "Losers have been wanting to meet me, so I thought I'd drop by."

As soon as Josh spoke, cheers erupted from behind, mocking them loudly.

"34 to 17, 34 to 17, 34 to 17!"

"Loser!"

"Come lick my ass, you losers!"

"Hahaha!"

Tommy turned around, slapping his own backside mockingly. Josh's crew burst into laughter, while Wilson’s gang’s faces quickly darkened. The 34 to 17 score was from their last match, where, of course, Josh’s school had won, and Josh had scored the last touchdown. The painful memory of trying and failing to stop Josh while throwing himself into the play made Wilson’s face lose all color in an instant.

"You trash from that crappy school."

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At the same time, he threw the weakling aside. The weakling staggered and fell on his butt but didn’t seem to be seriously hurt. Sadly, no one was paying attention to him. All eyes were focused in one place, and Josh and Wilson were now face to face.

The two were standing so close they could almost feel each other's breath, growling at one another. Who would make the first move? The atmosphere was tense, and the others were ready to jump in at any moment.

Wilson, gritting his teeth, glared at Josh as if he wanted to kill him.

"Don’t mess with me, country bumpkin. I’ll make sure you can’t move a bone in the next match."

At those words, Josh widened his eyes, then turned around, spreading his arms and looking behind him.

"Wow, did everyone hear that? He says he’s going to break my bones, oh how scary! This guy is the quarterback who scored 17 points in the last game! 17 years old, 17 points! Oh no, it’ll take 17 more years for him to score 34 points! I’m not even sure if he can run at his age. Oh, God! My knees, my shoulders!"

Josh mocked him with exaggerated pain sounds. Laughter erupted behind him again, and Wilson’s gang’s faces twisted with fury.

"You piece of shit!"

"Hey!"

"Josh!"

Josh staggered for a moment but quickly countered. This time, Wilson stepped back. The two took large steps forward, almost nose-to-nose, gritting their teeth.

"I’ll kill you, Josh Bailey."

"Give it a try, coward loser."

This time, it really seemed like a fight would break out, the atmosphere thick with violence. Everyone held their breath, ready to jump in at any moment.

Then, out of nowhere, someone shouted.

"Hey, what are you guys doing over there?"

The tension immediately lifted, and everyone turned to look. The shop owner, carrying a trash can full of food waste, was standing there, looking at them. The realization hit them—this was the place where the shops stored their trash. The large man waddled toward them, set the trash can down, and scolded them fiercely.

"What are you guys doing? Stop messing around and move along, now."

With a gesture, he urged them to leave, and reluctantly, Josh and Wilson stepped back. He kept waving his hand, saying, "Don't hang around here, get going."

"I’ll call the cops if you keep lingering."

Under the man’s threat, they couldn't act tough anymore. Begrudgingly, they walked away, but their eyes remained locked.

"You're lucky, Josh Bailey."

Wilson hissed, but Josh taunted him back.

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"Go say your final goodbyes to your mom. Oh, wait, you don’t have one, do you?"

Wilson nearly swung a punch, but his gang quickly stopped him, barely holding him back. Wilson, his arms held tightly by both sides, glared at Josh, grinding his teeth.

"Someday, I’ll make sure you regret this."

Josh didn’t even respond. He simply raised his middle finger. Edgar, walking ahead, chuckled softly.

"All talk, those bastards."

Laughter erupted from everywhere. Josh shook his head, laughing too.

It wasn't until they got to the parking lot that they realized something was off.

"Hey, wait a second!"

The shout came from behind. Without thinking, they turned around, and froze. The weakling they had been planning to rough up was chasing after them. They suddenly remembered why they were here and who they had been waiting for.

They exchanged a panicked look.

What now?

I don’t know!

The silent exchange passed between them, and their target, looking thoroughly excited, spoke up first.

"Th-thank you. You saved me! I was about to get beaten up...!"

As he repeatedly thanked them, the group found themselves in an awkward position. Josh silently urged them.

Do something!

Among the group, Edgar was the first to speak up.

"Well, we were just passing by, so..."

"But you still helped me. Thank you so much. I never expected anyone to help me..."

He went on and on about how he had gotten mixed up with Wilson, how he had been tortured, and how cruel and ruthless Wilson's gang was. They listened in silence. Unaware of their thoughts, the weakling smiled brightly and said,

"If you hadn’t come by, I would’ve been beaten up again. Thank you."

"...."

They remained silent. He was completely misunderstanding, but no one could say anything. They weren’t here to help him.

"Uh, well..."

After a while, Josh, who had patiently waited, cleared his throat and spoke.

"Anyway, glad we could help... We’ve got to go now."

"Hey, you’re Emma’s brother, right?"

Josh, who had been about to turn around and leave, stopped at the sudden mention of his sister’s name and looked back at the weakling. His face lit up as he eagerly continued.

"I knew you were famous. And now you even helped me like this... Thank you so much, I’ll never forget it."

"Uh, uh... yeah."

Josh wasn’t the only one feeling awkward. Everyone who had been confidently rallying around him was now at a loss for words, staring at each other. What should they do now?

Josh was the one who had to decide. After swallowing his saliva, he spoke slowly.

"Anyway, see you later."

"Josh."

Edgar called out in surprise, but Josh simply gave him a look, signaling him to stay quiet. Reluctantly, they got into Josh’s car.

"Goodbye, thank you!"

They heard the weakling shout energetically behind them as Josh silently started the car. For a long time, no one spoke.

"This isn’t how it should be."

Edgar, sitting in the front seat, groaned, holding his head. The guys sitting in the back weren’t any better. Sighs and groans filled the car, but that was all. Josh, feeling the absurdity of the situation, couldn’t think of anything else to say. Finally, the only words that came to his mind were:

"Let’s aim for the next opportunity."

Emma might change her mind.

He thought to himself and continued driving. After dropping the guys off one by one, he finally headed home. It was nearly midnight by the time he arrived.

...I’m exhausted.

He felt so tired he could just collapse. Had he ever been this worn out before? Even after playing a full-time game, he wasn’t this tired. Mentally drained, sure, but why did his body feel so heavy?

After quickly showering, he threw on just his underwear and collapsed onto the bed. He felt like he might have a fever. Maybe it’s a cold? Josh briefly wondered if he should take some medicine before going to sleep but decided against it. Everything felt like too much of a hassle. He didn’t even want to move a finger. He closed his eyes and, not long after, drifted into a deep sleep.