3
Someone kicked Cal. Hard.
He grunted and rolled away. It was dark, pre-dawn maybe.
Cal had been in enough fights as he bounced between foster homes that there was no hesitation. Pivoting on an elbow tucked against his side, he swung out his feet in a wide arc.
A high cry and his attacker fell to the ground with a grunt.
Cal rose to get the position advantage and banged his head hard against the underside of the truck’s bumper he’d been sleeping beside. That dropped him back to the ground and filled his eyes with blazing splotches of light.
He knew he wouldn’t be stable if he tried to stand after that hard a blow to his head, so this had become a ground war.
Finding his attacker by their gasping breath, he rolled right on top of—
“Ow! What the hell?” Jeannie!
“Jeannie?” He had he
