James heard his father's thundering footsteps from down the hall as he sat across from the school principal. He flinched as he heard the school secretary greet his parents, "He's inside with Mr. Bradly."

James looked to the principal who just sighed, already very comfortable with this dance. The Carters would show up and he'd explain what their son did this time. Katie Carter would listen intently, occasionally looking to her son with sad, ashamed eyes that would make him shrink into his chair beside her. She'd apologize profusely for whatever had happened, but she'd defend her son the best she could, often giving excuses about something that had happened at home that could have caused him to act out in such a way. When he skipped school, it was because he'd been helping his mom doing home renovations and was tired. When he got into words with another student, he was acting out because his parents had a fight. One time Katie explained that James fell asleep in class because he was up half the night helping his freshman sister with her science project.

While Katie did everything possible to protect her son, Steven Carter would stand behind his wife with a steely glare and set jaw. He wouldn't say anything until the end of the meeting, when he'd very firmly explain that it wouldn't happen again. Whatever happened after the meeting was a mystery to the Principal, but he didn't want to be in James's shoes with the way his father would simmer quietly.

Principal Bradly prepared to begin their usual meeting, but was surprised when Steven entered alone and the door closed behind him. James's eyes became saucers when he saw his best defender was missing. He clamped his hands together and looked down, avoiding his father's gaze as the older man took a seat next to him.

"Mr. Carter." Principal Bradly greeted, feeling intimidated by the large man who sat in front of him as Steve reached out and shook his hand firmly.

"Principal Bradly." Steve replied with a curt nod, looking to his son but not addressing him, "What happened?"

"Well," Principal Bradly looked to the boy cowering in front of him, "James was involved in a bit of a locker room fight."

"Locker room fight?" Steve looked to his son, but the boy kept his eyes locked onto his shoes, "What kind of locker room fight? Who started it?"

"I didn't start it. Chad did." James grumbled as he crossed his arms defensively, "You wouldn't understand-"

"Where's the other guy?" Steve's voice stayed surprisingly even, and James's chest deflated as he felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe his father would take his side for once.

"Mr. Reynolds is being taken to the hospital by his parents." Steve's eyes widened and he gripped his chair tightly as he waited for the Principal to continue. The man sighed and added, "He has a severe concussion."

"You what?" Steve hissed as he whipped around to look at his son, "You gave someone a concussion? What is the matter with you?"

"He started it." James mumbled, seeing his hope vanish as quickly as it arrived. "I just want to go home."

Steve turned to the principal, his strong jaw slack. "I'm so sorry. Believe me when I say, he will be severely punished for this."

"I'll hold you to it, Mr. Carter." Principal Bradly said as he stood, giving Steve and James the signal that this meeting was finished, "We have lots of witnesses claiming James didn't start the fight, and Chad Reynolds will be talked to when he gets back to school. But we can't condone this type of violence. Detention the rest of the week. You're lucky it isn't suspension."

"But what about practice? It's Homecoming this weekend!" James yelped, earning a warning glare from his father. "Mr. Bradly, please, I'm the quarterback-"

"You should have thought about that before you knocked out your teammate." The principal warned, pointing at James as the boy quieted, "You can still play on Friday. If you don't cause any more trouble, I'll even consider letting you go to the dance. But you show up, you do your school work, and you keep your head down, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir." James sighed, allowing his father to lead him out of the office and out to his pickup. When they got to the parking lot, Kayla came scrambling out of the truck to see her son. She grabbed his shoulders and looked him up and down to make sure he was okay before checking Steve's expression.

"Honey, what happened? Something about a fight with another student?" Kayla questioned, but Steve's voice boomed over hers.

"Give your mother the keys to your car. You're coming with me." Steve ordered sternly and James looked to his mother worriedly. Kayla opened her mouth to question her husband, but he added coldly, "We'll see you at home, Kay."

Kayla let go of James's shoulder and he reached into his jean's pocket to grab his car keys. He handed them off to his mother and shuffled his way to the passenger side of his dad's truck. Kayla was shaking as she reached out to comfort her son. She hadn't seen her husband this angry in years. "It'll be okay, James-"

"Kayla." Steve warned, and she stopped talking, understanding that Steve wouldn't be undermined. She nodded understandingly and walked to James's car, sparing one last look before getting in and driving home.

Steve started the truck as James buckled up. They didn't look at each other and they didn't speak. It wasn't until Steve pulled out of the parking lot and turned the opposite direction of home that James knew he was in real trouble. He sighed and lowered his head submissively, causing his hair to fall in front of his face, "I'm sorry Dad. I didn't mean to-"

"To what? To knock out your classmate? What did you mean to do then? Huh?" Steve snapped, never taking his eyes off the road. James watched him shift his wrists as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really hurt someone."

"You don't understand... I had to. That asshole had it coming to him-"

"Watch your language." Steve barked, finally sparing a glance at his son. His eyes bore into the younger version of himself, filling him with even more guilt. His chest felt heavy in shame, "I didn't raise you to be a bully."

"I'm not a bully." James spat back, but Steve wasn't listening. "Dad, I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to do-"

"I want you to be better! All you do is sneak out and screw around and do God knows what! We raised you better than this!" Steve softened a little, knowing his son didn't understand the harm he could do. "You don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand! You don't understand what it's like to be me, because nobody ever counted on you. You were never put on a pedestal and judged on everything you did like I am!" James screamed back, pounding his fist against the dashboard, but Steve didn't even flinch. James growled, "Everyone is counting on me to be the best. You wouldn't know what that feels like in art school."

Steve slammed on the breaks, bringing them to a stop. James flung his arm out in front of him to brace himself, looking at his father like he was a madman. James waited for his dad to continue their screaming match, but Steve just stared ahead, his brows drawn. James grew frustrated at the silence and groaned, falling back into the seat, "Screw it. You wouldn't understand even if I told you."

"You punched your classmate against a locker. What more is there to understand?" Steve mumbled as he threw the truck into drive and took them home, not speaking again. James pulled out his phone and Steve reached over to grab it, tossing it into the door-side compartment. James drew his breath, knowing it would be in his best interest not to argue. He'd done enough damage for one day.

Steve dropped off James and drove off again without explanation. James watched him go before going up to the house, knocking so his mom or sister would let him inside. After a few moments, Sarah opened the door and stared up at her brother with wide eyes, "James?"

"Hey, Sarah." He grumbled as he pushed past her. She watched him take a right up the stairs, hearing the door slam. Sarah looked from the stairs to the kitchen, seeing Kayla close the fridge and sigh before going to check on her oldest child.

James sat on his bed with his head in his hands, thinking about how some simple locker room talk wound up getting him into this much trouble. He lifted his head when he heard the footsteps approach, "You can come in." He called before she even knocked, already knowing his mother would be on the other side.

Kayla pushed open the door to his bedroom, closing it behind her. "Hey James."

"Hi Mom." He echoed, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to meet her gaze. "Dad's really mad."

"I gathered that. What did you do?" Kayla said easily as she sat beside her son, pressing her arm into the mattress to lean against it. She looked James up and down, not seeing any sign that he'd been hurt. "Did they even get a lick in?"

"Nope." James popped the 'p' sound loudly as he grabbed a foam ball from his bedside table. He began tossing the ball lightly toward the ceiling. "One punch and knocked him down. Gave him a concussion."

Kayla closed her eyes and sighed quietly, cautious not to let her son hear it, "Why did you punch him?"

"He was talking smack." James answered, tossing the ball again, but Kayla reached out and swiped it before it landed into his hand. "Hey!"

"I never played football in high school, but my boyfriends who did said people talked smack all the time. Some gentle rough housing, lots of teasing and towel whipping. But no concussions. So I'll ask again- why did you punch him?" Kayla said as she began tossing the ball in her hand, cornering her son into getting answers. He laid there quietly, not answering, so she tossed the ball back and he caught it, "It's just you and me Kiddo. You know you can tell me anything."

"He was making fun of Sarah." James mumbled. He grunted and sat up, tossing the ball lightly to his mom, "He said... I don't want to talk about it." James grumbled, and pushed back his hair, looking over his shoulder out the window. "Apparently the cheerleaders were harassing her today and he was saying all these awful things about the dance and her, and- and I lost it. I wasn't thinking. I messed up."

Kayla shuffled herself to sit beside her son, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him close to her. "Did you tell your father you were defending your sister?"

James snorted, leaning his head against his mom's as he stared at her hand on his knee, "No. It wouldn't make a difference."

"Yes, it would. It makes a world of difference." Kayla insisted, but James just twisted his lips, listening but not believing. He laid his weight against his mom and she smiled, happy she was still strong enough to hold her not-so small baby boy. She pressed a kiss to his messy hair and rubbed his back, "You need to tell him what the boy said-"

"Dad said I was a bully. You should have seen his face." James sighed and nuzzled Kayla's shoulder, "I think he hates me."

"Your father doesn't hate you, James. He just doesn't understand the situation. Because somebody didn't tell him..." Kayla trailed off, leaning away so James would sit up and look at her. "Sounds to me like you fought off the bully. I'm proud of you."

James rolled his eyes, "Where were you when I got detention? Or when Dad ripped me a new one?"

Kayla chuckled, "You still gave your classmate a concussion. You deserve it. Also-" Kayla stood and looked around the room, taking in her son's weight collection, "No more lifting for you. I think you're strong enough."

"I can always be better." James teased, but Kayla just raised her brow, "Yes ma'am. I'll be more careful."

"The other boys your age don't weight lift as a hobby, so, go easy on them. You knock anyone out again, your father won't let you play basketball." Kayla warned and James nodded, telling her he understood. She leaned over and ruffled James's hair, then left him alone, "I'm going to order pizza for dinner. You can eat in your room if you'd like, but you're walking on thin ice. Remember that."

James nodded as Kayla left, closing the door behind her. He grabbed the foam ball and tossed it through a hoop mounted on the wall opposite wall. He laid back on his bed, cursing himself for pulling his phone out and allowing his father to take it. His friends would be wondering what happened to him. They would accurately guess he'd been sent into exile.

Sarah opened the bathroom door adjoining their rooms, peaking her head in with her hand over her eyes, "You decent?"

"Yeah." James muttered, not wanting to hang out with his nerdy little sister. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. Mom said you got in trouble at school." Sarah dropped her hand and sat herself in his desk chair, leaning over the back to get a better view. James rolled his eyes dramatically and pulled a pillow over his face so his sister couldn't bother him anymore. "James, stop being a child, talk to me."

"Is Miranda Rodriguez bothering you at school?" His muffled voice asked and Sarah's cheeks heated up, not expected the conversation to turn on her so quickly. James pulled the pillow off his face and sat up. "Chad Reynolds said she was harassing you about being my date to Homecoming."

"She's the most popular girl in school. I'm an underclassman, and your little sister, I'm not surprised she's a bitch to me." Sarah replied confidently. She leaned her chin on her hands and grinned at her brother, "I'm not a baby, James. I can take care of myself."

"I don't care. Your my sister, the only person allowed to harass you is me." James replied with a small smile. It faltered when he remembered the locker room conversation, "Just, stay away from Chad, alright? If he tries to talk to you- if he tries to bother you, let me know. I'll put him in his place."

"From what I've gathered you already have." Sarah shrugged, scooping down and picking up the ball and tossing it to her brother. The throw was bad, but he still caught it and tossed it back underhand, so gently he could have been playing catch with a toddler. Sarah snickered to herself, pulling her long hair over her shoulder, "Everyone on social media is talking about you. Said you almost knocked him out and he got taken to the hospital."

"Yup. He deserved it." James said simply, throwing the ball a little too hard. Sarah realized his error before he did and leaned to the side, allowing the ball to pummel the wall instead of her face. James winced, "Sorry."

"It's fine..." Sarah trailed off casually as she pushed herself up with a grunt. She studied all her brother's trophies thoughtfully before asking what she really wanted to know, "Did you two get into a fight because of me? Someone online said you knocked him out because he made fun of your pathetic sister?"

"You are not pathetic, Sarah, don't listen to those assholes." James slurred, patting the bed next to him as he swung his legs over the side. Sarah sidled up next to him and he put his arm around her and pulled her tight, "I love you, you know that?"

"I do. Only second after Mom." Sarah teased as she allowed herself to be squished, "I love you too."

"Kids! Pizza's here!" Kayla's voice called from downstairs and James released Sarah with a heavy sigh. "Guess it's time to face the music." James nudged his sister off his bed.

"Want me to grab you a slice?" Sarah offered and James raised his brows as he looked up at her. Sarah rolled her eyes, "Sorry, want me to bring you a pizza?"

"I'll do your chores for a week if I don't have to see Dad again today."

"Do my chores- and I get your allowance."

James considered her offer, narrowing his eyes before shoving his hand out to shake hers, "Deal."