Chapter 1: The Fight

I didn't go looking for trouble that day. Trouble found me.

I was walking to my next class when I saw it—Tyler cornering Ethan again, pushing him up against the lockers, that stupid smug grin plastered on his face. Ethan was just a kid, smaller than most of us, always keeping his head down, trying to stay invisible. But Tyler never gave him a break. He never gave anyone a break, really. He was the king of bullying, and that meant he was always on the hunt for his next victim.

I was done with it.

"Hey, Tyler!" I called out, my voice cutting through the noise of the crowded hallway.

Tyler didn't even look up at first, probably assuming it was just some random kid trying to play hero. But then he recognized me, his smirk widening. He pushed Ethan to the side with a shove, the kid stumbling before catching himself.

"What's up, Pasley?" Tyler said, rolling his shoulders back like he was already ready for a fight. "What's the matter? You need something from little old me?"

I narrowed my eyes, fists clenching at my sides. "You think it's funny, picking on him? You don't get to do that. Not anymore."

Tyler's grin faltered for a second, but then it came back, bigger and meaner. "Oh, this should be good. You're gonna try and be the hero now, huh?"

I didn't wait for him to answer. I stepped forward, pushing Ethan behind me, my gaze locked on Tyler. "Yeah, I'm gonna stop you."

Tyler chuckled, but his buddies—two guys who were always hanging around, always looking for someone to back up their bullying—stepped up behind him.

"You sure about this, Pasley?" one of them, Jake, said. He was bigger than me, but not by much. He had that cocky smirk like he thought he was untouchable.

I didn't answer. I wasn't here to talk.

Tyler lunged first, throwing a wild punch that grazed my cheek. I barely felt it—adrenaline hit me like a wave, my body moving on instinct. I ducked and swung back, my fist landing square against his ribs. He grunted, but it only pissed him off more.

Before I could react, Jake was on me, grabbing my arm and twisting it behind my back. The pain shot through my shoulder like fire, but I fought against it, trying to get free. I swung my foot out, catching him in the shin, but it didn't faze him.

"Get off me!" I shouted, struggling, but Tyler was already back on me. He landed a punch to my stomach, knocking the air out of me. My vision blurred, but I wasn't about to let it end like this.

I shoved back, elbowing Jake in the ribs, but I was already off-balance. The second guy, Carlos, hit me from behind, his fist slamming into the back of my head. I stumbled forward, my knees buckling.

It was too much.

Tyler's fist connected with my face this time, the hit so hard it sent me crashing into the lockers. I could taste blood in my mouth, and my head felt like it was going to explode.

Jake and Carlos weren't letting up, kicking at me while I was down, the force making me want to vomit. I tried to push myself up, but every time I did, one of them kicked me back down. It was three on one, and I didn't stand a chance.

"Thought you were tough, huh, Pasley?" Tyler sneered, his voice muffled by the ringing in my ears. "Should've stayed out of this."

I couldn't answer. My body felt like it was shutting down, my chest burning with every breath, but my hands were still clenched into fists. I wasn't done yet.

"Enough," someone shouted. It was a teacher's voice—Mr. Hartley, the gym coach. He pushed through the crowd of students that had gathered, pulling Tyler off me with one hand.

Tyler shoved him away, but Mr. Hartley wasn't having it. He grabbed Tyler by the collar, lifting him off the ground. "I said enough, Tyler. You and your boys are coming with me. Now."

Tyler opened his mouth to argue, but seeing the look in Mr. Hartley's eyes, he must've realized it wasn't worth it. He yanked his buddies back, grumbling under his breath.

I lay there for a moment, trying to catch my breath, my hands pressed against the cold floor, blood still dripping from my lip. The pain was sharp, everywhere.

"Get up, Pasley," Mr. Hartley said, his voice a little softer now. He bent down, helping me to my feet.

"Yeah," I muttered, shaking my head. "I'm good."

But I wasn't good. I wasn't even close.

The bell rang a few minutes later, and the hallway emptied out, leaving me standing there, my back to the lockers, the sting of the fight still fresh. I looked over at Ethan, who was standing a few feet away, his eyes wide, but he didn't say anything.

I didn't blame him. No one ever wanted to get involved.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling the bruise forming on my jaw, and exhaled slowly. Tyler had a way of getting under my skin, of pushing me until I snapped. I shouldn't have gotten involved—didn't need to, didn't want to—but when I saw him push Ethan, something inside me just snapped.

Maybe I was too much like him. Or maybe I was just pissed off at the world for taking everything good in my life.

Either way, it wasn't over. Not by a long shot.