Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Going to a public school, with actual classmates, a variety of teachers, school sport, recess and, most importantly, girls, had been a first to Ash and he had to admit, in the beginning he had been a little nervous. It hadn't taken him long, however, to adjust and become comfortable with his new environment.
His mother had dragged him all over the world, he had spent time in Russia and Hong Kong, acquiring an acceptable social position in the social microcosm of an US-American junior high had been a challenge, but not one he hadn't been prepared to master. His athleticism, his more and more handsome looks and his natural sense of humor pretty much paved him the way into the "most popular" league within a couple of months and by now, two years after his arrival, his status was well cemented. He had established a certain reputation.
Others were not so lucky.
Ash knew Andrew from the ice-rink. He was a figure-skater. Jeez, talk about a shitty position to start from… The second the other boys in his year found out he spent his free time doing girly moves in leotards to pompous music he had lost all chances of ever getting a proper date – or a recess in peace.
Andrew usually hid in the library. He was heading the library club und could always say he was busy labeling new books or whatever and thus couldn't join the others in the official recess areas. Sometimes, however, he couldn't help it. He needed food just like everyone else.
Order in the cafeteria itself was maintained under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Caroline Bingham. Pranks, teasing, any kind of mischief with the food were totally out of the question. After more than forty years of working school cafeterias, she knew how to deal with bratty teenagers. Do not mess with Mrs. Bingham. Not if you ever want to enjoy eating in the cafeteria again. Remember, she controls the meals' ingredients…
So, the cafeteria was a safe haven. The stairs to the cafeteria, however, were a totally different story. The teachers barely set up camp there, they were too busy keeping an eye on more prominent trouble spots such as the area behind the gymnasium, where the really brave souls dared to have a smoke. Of course the school had surveillance cams, but, let's be honest, when did they ever work?
San Francisco's fiscal gap was wide enough for a parade of monster trucks to ride through and budget cuts were affecting schools badly. The director of Ash's school had decided to divert a little money from surveillance so that he could keep another chemistry teacher.
Opportunity makes the thieves… and the bullies.
"Oy, princess!", Alec yelled, making Andrew ascend the stairs even faster.
"Leave him alone, will you?", Ash interfered absent-mindedly. He was just in the middle of chatting up that really hot new girl from his Spanish course and Alec's yelling significantly disturbed the atmosphere.
Unfortunately Taz was already a step ahead of Andrew and blocking his way, Andrew, busy with concentrating on Alec, saw him too late, stumbled against him and there you have it, the perfect excuse for Taz to give him a heavy shove that sent him tumbling backwards against Alec who used that as an excuse to push him forwards again…
"Jeez, will you stop it already?" The two idiots were seriously sabotaging Ash's game plan with the new girl. He was already losing her attention.
"What, Ash, playing White Knight for the damsel in distress?", Alec teased, who too had cast an eye on the new girl from Spanish class.
"Stop being an asshole, Alec and leave him alone. He's pissing his pants already." Ash returned his attention to the girl.
Now, in every person's life comes a line-in-the-sand-this-far-and-no-further moment that's on the one hand crucial to protect one's poise and dignity, but unfortunately, on the other might lead to stupid decisions. Such as Andrew whirling around and giving Ash a violent push – "I DIDN'T PISS MY PANTS!"
Ash would later blame it on instinct and reject all accusations that he might have done it on purpose, most likely it was a heady mixture of both, reflex and anger for being humiliated in front of a possible date. Whatever, the result remained the same anyway: Ash pushed Andrew back and goddamn, ice-hockey had given Ash broad shoulders and quite strong arms.
They sent Andrew flying down the stairs leading up to the cafeteria.
Never ever, not even on that dreadful day he had had to kill the dog, had Ash felt more helpless and terrified. He saw Andrew falling, saw him twisting and turning in all the wrong angles because he was hampered by the rucksack on his back and knew, just knew that this was going to end badly.
Andrew's terribly pained outcry as he hit face first the foot of the stairs with his knee at the oddest position half upside down, half buried underneath his body, only confirmed his worst fears.
Oh good lord, what had he just done?
Ash dashed down the stairs and rushed to Andrew's side. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!", he kept repeating over and over again, horrified.
Blood was streaming down Andrew's face, from a cut above the eyebrow and his mouth. Was that a broken tooth on the floor? As Ash was pushed aside by Mr. Cramer, the history teacher, he could only think one thought, again and again and again: I'm sorry.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, very faint, barely audible: Dad is going to kill me.
As the ambulance arrived and EMTs rushed in to see to the injured boy, Mr. Cramer gave up his position at Andrew's side, let go of his hand and instead focused all of his attention on Ash.
"The principal's office. Now."
"Unless mom gets to me first", Ash couldn't help but think. His heart heavy with worries about Andrew and yes, himself, too, he sat down outside the principal's office's door under the close watch of both Mr. Cramer and the principal's secretary, Ms. White.
They needn't say anything. The looks they gave him were completely enough.
This time he had gone too far. Way too far.