Let's call part two 'Fight Club.'
The new place was dripping with testosterone. As soon as I stepped inside, a large boy who would become know to me as Dice stared me down. I kept his gaze-if there's one thing I'm not proud of, it's my stupidity surrounding bravado. One of these days, my big talk would probably catch up with me. In fact, it would be very soon. I'd break his nose, but...You'll see.
It was a large change from the last place. The entire house had a charged feeling to it, like a powder keg ready to blow. Let's face it-you've got a neo-nazi fuck like Dice packed in there with two gangstas, Khalid and Neffar respectively. Add a skater kid named Nick, and emo boy named osh, and then me, the mongrel Brazilian with his shattered hair, scrffy chin and penchant for AC/DC and Van Halen.
The fight broke out over dinner, when Joshe refused to acknowledge Dice's existence when he was asked to-
'Pass the hot sauce, jewfag.'
Quicker than a whip, Dice's meaty arm shot across the table, grasped Josh by his greasy hair, and slammed his face forward into his plate of tacos. I watched with the mildly bemused, noncommittal expression of the innocent bystander of a fender bender that leaves one person with a broken arm. The staff rushed in to break it up. As if they could.
I wanted to get the hell out of there. But Dice caught sight of me, and I barely had time to dodge the fist he sent sailing my way. This will not be a blow-by-blow recount. It happened very quickly. After missing me, I dropped back, took my hands and planted them in Dice's ridged neck, and brought my knee up into his face. He flew back, blood spewing, and I had two seconds to feel a rush of vindictive pleasure before he was back on me. He moved quickly for such a fatass. One fist to the side of my head left my ears ringing. A second to the face broke my nose in the same fashion I had his, and I was already blacking out when the uppercut hit my stomach.