I was just heading back from the Wawa Market with some milk when a familiar voice called out to me from the corner of Brous Avenue. "Yo, McCall, what up?"
I turned around and frowned when I noticed that it was Rourke Everson, my worst nightmare. "Nothing, Rourke. I have to get home with this milk."
With the speed of a bullet, Rourke jumped out in front of me so as to block my path on the sidewalk. "What's the big rush, McCall? Goin' somewhere?" Rourke puffed out his chest to show me that he had every intention of stopping me from going any further.
"I told you, I have to get home," I answered. "My mom is waiting for the milk."
Rourke inched his way closer to me. "So, rumor has it that you're wrestling at 82 pounds this year."
I pursed my lips at Rourke. "That's not a rumor. It's a fact."
Rourke let out an evil chuckle. "Well, it just so happens that I also weigh 82 pounds and I'm gonna kick your royal butt when we meet on the wrestling mat this year."
I sneered. "Yeah, right, like that might happen."
Rourke's face twisted into a look of pure anger. "Are you dissin' me, McCall, because if you are, I'll rearrange your face."
"You and what army?" I shot back, knowing pretty well that I could take Rourke on any day of the week.
"Don't push me, McCall," Rourke called out, trying to make his voice sound gruff. "You really don't want to yank my chain right now or else I'll destroy you."
I swallowed a lump in my throat, wondering if there was any truth to that statement. "Look, I gotta go. Get out of my way."
Rourke suddenly held out his arms at either side, now completely blocking my path down the sidewalk. "Who's stopping you, little wrestling boy?"
My temper was beginning to rise, something it always seemed to do when Rourke began pushing my buttons. "Look, you're not any bigger than I am, so shut up."
Rourke sneered at me. "Maybe I'm not bigger than you, but I'm a whole lot tougher. Perhaps you need to be reminded of that."
"Hey, why don't you just shut your trap and forget about it already?" I yelled, now starting to feel my temperature rise quite rapidly. "I don't need to be reminded of anything, except that perhaps I'll kick your butt the first meet we face up."
"Maybe I should just end it all right now by beating you up right here on the sidewalk?" Rourke challenged. "After all, this is Philly, the city of brotherly love."
I shot Rourke the dirtiest look I could muster up. "Yeah, the only thing you love is yourself. You're totally selfish all the time."
Rourke puffed out his chest again to boost his ego even higher. "That's right, I am selfish, little wrestling boy, but that's because I'm the best there is in this neighborhood. And at least I don't go to some silly Catholic school to try and hide from the bad guys in public school."
"You mean bad guys like you?" I asked. "You're nothing, Everson. You've been busting my butt for years, but you never walk the walk. You just talk the talk."
Rourke frowned at me. "Don't try and scare me with your big words, smartie pants. Just because you go to St. Tim's doesn't mean you're any smarter than me, McCall."
"Yeah, whatever," I barked. "Just get out of my way."
"Fine," Rourke declared, now moving aside. "But just remember who's gonna kick butt and take down names in a few weeks when I meet your sorry heiny on the wrestling mat."