Jack lifted up his backpack just in time to shield himself from Bittle’s sudden onslaught of kicks, most of which were aimed in the general direction of his face. Bittle probably would have tried to punch him, but Ransom and Holster each had one of his arms, and Shitty his left leg. Well, it could have been worse. Only half of the Samwell library was looking at them.
“Come on, he weighs like 100 pounds,” Jack hissed. “Why is it taking all three of you to hold him down?”
“I have no fucking clue,” said Holster, trying to be quiet. “He’s summoned some kind of super-human strength. It’s like wrestling a really tiny bear.”
“FUCK, Bitty, that’s my FACE.”
Bittle simply ignored Shitty’s pain and kept kicking with his free leg.
“Fuck, bro, just say sorry!” said Ransom. “What’d you even say to piss him off?”
Jack was backed up against a wall. “He was going on and on about some new album, and how it’s a huge surprise and…” Jack looked at them. “All I did was ask ‘why is Beyoncé so important?’”
“GODDAMMIT, JACK.” shouted Holster.
And now the entire library was looking at them.