“Out. Johnny knocked me out. Not up.” Oh, dear god, let me die. “Out,” I emphasized for the dozenth time. “The bump was on my head.” “How did he hurt you?” his mother asked, looking troubled and yet massively relieved. I sighed heavily. “With his balls.” “With his balls?” she repeated, looking horrified. “Johnny knocked you out with his balls?” “Ball,” I stressed, squirming in my seat. “Just the one ball—” I stopped speaking, knowing I was making a hash of things.
