Wilt PoV
The rest of the school year flew by fast. It was now summer. But despite that, Wilt continued his training. While he had yet to settle on a university, he knew he wanted to play basketball. Fortunately for him, the schools had given him more time to think. He had until the end of the month to decide.
The sun shone down on his unnaturally creamy skin as he went out for his afternoon jog. For some reason, he couldn't tan. Which kind of sucked. It made people wonder if he trained indoors all day. Those who knew him knew the truth, but to those he didn't, he was secluded to the gym.
He looked down at his watch. His dad had gotten it for him for his high school graduation. He was making good time.
Wilt's breaths came in steady puffs as he continued his run. The sun was relentless, its heat prickling against his skin, but he welcomed the challenge. The sweat trickling down his brow was a testament to his hard work, a badge of honor in its own right.
He glanced down at his wrist, noting the time on his watch. It was a gift from his father, a sleek timepiece that was both stylish and practical. It was a symbol of his achievements, a reminder of how far he had come.
As he rounded a corner, he spotted a group of young men hanging around. They were dressed in hoodies despite the heat, their faces hidden under the shadows of their hoods. A sense of unease crept over him, but he kept his pace steady, his gaze straight ahead.
"Hey, man. Nice watch ya got there," one of them called out, his voice laced with a chilling undertone.
Wilt didn't break his stride, keeping his gaze focused on the path before him. He had heard tales of petty thefts in the area, but he had never encountered it firsthand.
"We said, nice watch," another one echoed, stepping into his path, forcing Wilt to a halt.
Wilt's heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He was outnumbered, but he wasn't about to back down. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice steady despite the situation.
The guy smiled, revealing a row of crooked teeth. "Just the watch, man. Hand it over."
"No," Wilt replied simply, meeting the thug's gaze with unwavering resolve.
That was when chaos ensued. The group lunged at him, their movements uncoordinated and sloppy. Wilt was a trained athlete, his reflexes honed through years of not only basketball but occasional dubling in karate and judo.
He blocked a punch, dodged a kick, as he tried to keep them at bay. Even as they brandished their knives and bats, they failed to land a hit on him.
But the numbers were against him as they continued to encircle him.
He gasped as he felt a sharp pain shoot through his left leg as one of them smack his bat against it, causing him to stumble.
He punched the thugs in front of him and turned around.
The same thug who hit him grabbed his wrist and yanked his watch off before quickly retreating as Wilt continued to fight back.
The others backed away and followed their partner in crime.
Ignoring the pain in his leg, Wilt tried to give chase. "Give it back!" he shouted, but his leg gave in and he collapsed onto the pavement.
His heart pounded in his chest, frustration and anger welling up within him. His watch, his father's gift, was gone and his left leg was throbbing with pain,.
As he sat there on the pavement, the reality of the situation sinking in. He grabbed his leg and winced. He cursed under his breath and reached for his phone. At least they hadn't take it. Although the screen had gotten broken.
Wilt tapped the broken screen of his phone, his fingers shaking slightly from the adrenaline. He needed to call for help. But before he could dial, he heard footsteps approaching.
A young girl slowed her jog as she noticed Wilt on the ground. She was about his age, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her face flushed from her run. She looked at him with a mix of concern and surprise. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft but clear.
Wilt looked up at her, struggling to keep the frustration from his voice. "Do I look okay?" he snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he saw her flinch. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer. "I just... I got mugged."
The girl's eyes widened. "Are you serious? This park used to be a lot safer when we were kids," she exclaimed, looking around as if expecting the thugs to jump out from the bushes. She crouched down next to him, her eyes filled with worry. "Where did they hurt you?"
Wilt grimaced as he tried to sit up, his left leg throbbing with pain. "My ribs and leg, but my leg got hit harder," he grunted, his fingers brushing against the tender skin. "I think it's broken. And they took my watch."
He could see the sympathy in her eyes, but there was also a spark of determination. "We need to call the police," she said, reaching for her own phone. "Do you remember what they look like?"
Wilt shook his head, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. "They wore hoodies. I didn't see their faces."
The girl nodded, dialing a number on her phone. "Don't worry," she said, her voice steady despite the situation. "We'll get your watch back. And they'll pay for what they did. But for now, we need to get you to the hospital."
He smiled. It was nice to see the world still had nice people.
"There. I called for medical help. Rest easy, don't move or you might puncture something."
"Say, do we know each other?" Wilt asked. There was something familiar about her voice.
She smiled. "Guess you don't recognize anymore, huh? We used to go to the same elementary school. I'm Natasha Valoskya."
He gasped. "Braces girl!"
Natasha sighed. "Yes, 'Braces girl'."
Wilt felt a sense of guilt wash over him. He and his friends used to tease her a lot during elementary.
He winced at the memory, his childhood taunts echoing in his ears. "Natasha, I'm... I'm sorry for the way I treated you back then," Wilt began, struggling to find the right words. "I was young and stupid, and I didn't realize how hurtful my words and actions were."
Natasha gave him a small smile, a sad glint in her eyes. "That's in the past, Wilt. People change. And it seems like you've grown up quite a bit."
Before Wilt could respond, the sound of sirens echoed in the distance. Relief washed over him as the ambulance pulled up, the paramedics rushing out with a stretcher.
Natasha stepped back, allowing the paramedics to get to work. She watched as they carefully lifted Wilt onto the stretcher, her brows furrowed in worry. As they started to load him into the ambulance, she quickly dialed another number on her phone.
"Hey, it's Natasha. I'm at the park... Yeah, Wilt... He got mugged... He's on his way to the hospital now. I'll meet you there."
Wilt glanced over at Natasha, curious who she was calling, as the paramedics started to close the ambulance doors.
"I called your sister, Wilt," she called out. "She's heading to the hospital right now."
He was surprised she had Vanessa's phone number. Then again, Natasha was the cousin of Yosiah.
As Natasha joined him in the ambulance, Wilt couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. Despite their past, Natasha had been there for him when he needed someone the most. And in that moment, he knew he owed her a debt he could never repay. But he would certainly try.