Inverted Walls (Jen, roseh, open)

It's pretty late, but I really need to get this trick down before dinner and homework.

I am jogging home for my towel and an elbow cover so I could practice my spin when I hear a muttering. Usually, there's not really much traffic on the streets at this time. I live right near some labs where they work with chemicals. The biology labs are far from my house.

Anyway, so having grabbed my arm guard, I exit the house and nearly stumble into a guy my age, walking past. No, he stumbles past. He's clearly not okay. He's mumbling to himself and can't even seem to walk in a straight line. Curious, I decide to follow him, since he's heading in the general direction of the field where I practice, anyway. I suppose he lives in one of the houses nearby.

I'm just following him, when, suddenly, I see a shadow melt from a wall. It's pretty dark now; I might not have the chance to practice today. I got out of class late, and then out of work late, so I was just able to drop off my stuff in the fields and run home for my arm guard. I knew I should've kept a spare in my backpack.

To my surprise and horror, the owner of the shadow whacks the guy in the back of the head. He then proceeds to feel around for money or valuables. My eyes widen.

"Hey!" I shout. The man--a nasty dirty fellow--startles and jumps away, scrambling into the shadows. There's no time to give chase--it's a choice between getting this peer of mine out of the streets or chasing the curst beggar. I decide on the former and kneel beside the guy.

He's taller than me, and too thin for his own good. He looks two, three, maybe even five years, older than me. His glasses hang from one ear; I seriously hope none of the lenses are cracked. He'd better not wake up right now and think I did this to him. No, he's out. Won't be awake and coordinated enough for a while. He's kind of on his side, so I can see the back of his brown head swelling with a knot the size of a child's fist. Having surveyed the situation, I can tell that nothing was successfully taken from the pockets of his lab coat and other pockets--it seems I shouted out at the right time.

I manage to get the guy across my back, high up enough so that his legs don't drag on the floor when I stand up straight. He's not too heavy, and my working out so much lately has helped. With him now safely on my back, I slowly make my way in the direction he was heading. Instead of trying to find his house, though, I take him to a place I know is safe--the field.

The sun is getting ready to set and the shadows of the trees are lengthening, but that only makes the meadow more peaceful. I put him close to my things under the shade of a tree near the edge of the meadow, where the grass is not yet worn out from my constant tumbling about. Then, I slip on my elbow guard, make sure the guy is comfortable, and start to practice. I start with a few stretches and then do a few push-ups.

Now for the tricks. I'm not sure I'm ready to practice the spins yet, so I decide to just start with a simple Nike. I don't know why it's called that--apparently in ancient times, Nike was a symbol or something for victory. I don't know how it applies, but I'm certainly happy when I perform a Nike correctly. I roll my shoulders and put my hands on the ground. Then, I rise into a handstand and hold it until I feel steady enough. Then, I quickly twist my body until I'm on my right hand and my left hand is in the air, touching the big toe on my left leg. My left leg is straight, and my right leg is bent so my right foot rests on the side of my left knee. Just as I accomplish this, I hear a rustling and a voice.

"Where the hell am I?"

In my surprise, I lose my balance. My right elbow bends and I topple over, doing a small cartwheel and landing with a flop on the grass. I blink and stand up, brushing myself off. Then, I turn around, trying to find the speaker. There's no one but the guy I carried here and me. It must be him. I jog over to his tree and grab a towel from my backpack, which lays nearby.

"Chill. You're here, in the fields behind--um--where I'm guessing you live. I'm Theo Yu, and I carried you here. How's the head? Some random beggar dude smashed you on the back of your head with a wooden plank; I'd be grateful to even be alive and able to speak coherently if I were you. Quite a nasty blow. Don't try to get up too quickly."

I wipe my face with the towel and plop down beside the guy. Will he believe me, or will he turn and accuse me?