"I told you I'm faARGH!" Simon yelled out in pain and frustration as he tried to get up and put weight on the leg that was hit. It was like the sensation of pins and needles, except with barbs and white-hot pins and times a million. He fell painfully on his side, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.
Smooth there, Simon. Add klutz to the list now, after all these years. What is about Kyle that makes me stupid!?! Damn, I need a cigarette. Simon was so mad at himself now he could spit, which meant he got even quieter and more uptight than usual. Sometimes it was a wonder that the boy was able to express any feelings at all. Everything was internalized, hard and inflexible. It would likely be a wonder if he didn't have a heart attack by the time he was thirty.