Looking at her now, I didn't need one.
"Dustin, if you won't even say sorry, you're really going to make me cry…"
Howard's eyes were brimming with tears.
I swallowed the disgust clawing up my throat and shoved myself to my feet.
My fist came up and slammed square into Howard's face.
I ripped the high-pressure water gun from the man beside me, aimed it straight at Howard's crotch, and pulled the trigger.
His shorts were soaked through in a second—red cartoon-print underwear on full display for every last person watching.
"Don't run!"
I kept the water gun on him without letting up.
"Water Splash Festival, right? Whole point is getting drenched! Come on!!"
Howard cupped both hands over his crotch and scrambled behind Judy, shrieking the entire way.
The bruise from my fist was already darkening on his face.
I grabbed the scarf from Judy's hand and threw it around my own shoulders.
One cold look at her, and I turned to leave.
The kick hit my lower back before I'd taken a full step.
Judy.
Pain drilled straight through the old wound and locked my whole body rigid.
But it didn't come close to the pain in my chest.