Fresco curled into a fetal ball on the floor with his back against the bars while they did their dirty work. He refused to fight, knowing if he held back his attackers would bore of their game faster. Fresco was witness to bullying often enough in school to know it was true. This was his first time on the receiving end, though. He was usually the one to break up the mess.
Oddly, the hunger saved him. The heavy blows hurt, but he realized as he lay there, panting and bleeding, boot heels and fists striking him as the three boys grunted and sweated in effort above him, it didn't even compare to the pain of the longing.
Overcome by his helplessness, Fresco began to laugh. The leader stopped mid-kick and stared at him, his two hombres following his lead. Fresco continued to laugh, louder and
