#NecessarySacrifice - 2

Honey’s in a bad mood.

She was losing her only lead to gaining the popularity she deserved. If Charlotte was able to take over her school, why couldn’t she?

And this damn Midnight Fight everyone kept talking about but lacked any sort of details to help her partake in it. It was like some sort of secret they were all keeping from her.

That or news of Honey’s assault last Friday spread fast and now everywhere she goes people avoid her. Turns out the phone boy she harassed was quite the gossiper.

At the very least she was satisfied people acknowledged her presence rather than skirt around her like an apparition.

The lunch bell rings and Honey’s ready to rattle off the little threat she prepared after their morning altercation, but Misha’s out of his seat and making for the door before she can turn to him.

Misha’s hand pats her head in the way you’d tell a dog to behave while you’re out.

She wants to grab that hand and rip it right off.

Where does that loser go every lunch break? A secret? Blackmail potential? Something related to the Midnight Fights he’s hiding from her? Is he worried she’ll take over his school?

Honey’s hand gets tangled in her curls. She pulls. Hard. A few strands come loose.

With her mood sour, her appetite consequently disappears. A fire she hasn’t been able to put out since that student had the guts to mention the devil’s name in her presence.

She slinks out of the classroom.

Misha was still her only lead, or the only one at Godforsaken High that would actually talk to her without giving her that accursed, demeaning look. It reminded her too much of-

Forget it.

If anything, she never fought well in closed spaces, so this might be the perfect chance to plan an ambush. Last resort is an apology and a bit of bribery as much as it hurts her pride.

A necessary sacrifice. This is the one thing that will go her way. It has to go her way. She’ll make it happen.

Honey grapples the shoulder of the student nearest to the 2-B door, a girl with a nose so large it takes up her entire face

“Where’d the hair clip idiot take off to?”

The student and some of her equally spaced out friends are slumped against the hallway windows that seem to be supporting their weight more than their scrawny legs. Her eyes drift along the ceiling and slowly focuses on Honey’s hand.

This girl is as high as a kite.

“Ugh, nevermind.” Honey tosses her back against the wall. Typical Godforsaken High School.

Coincidentally, outside the window, Misha sprints across the back courtyard and takes one graceful leap over the iron barred fence into the public riverbank just behind the school.

Who would go this far just to have lunch?

She chases after him.

Down the stairs, out the back entrance, over the cigarette butts, past the badly covered up graffiti that says something wildly inappropriate. Honey clambers over the fence, her skirt catching on one of the metal rods as she jumps and tactfully lands on her feet.

It’s shocking how quickly the environment changes, like she’s stepped into another world entirely.

A few kids loiter out on the riverbank, relaxing in the lush sloped fields of green and blue sky. It’s not just Godforsaken students too, there are preppy kids with pretty royal blue embroidered sweaters from Cavalier High School, across the river. A bridge settles between the schools.

The difference between Cavalier and Godforsaken is like the difference between Heaven and Hell. Except Heaven only accepts the rich, wealthy elites. Popularity there meant how many houses in Paris you owned or if you could afford the latest AI technology to do homework for you.

Plus everyone there looked like a show poodle.

Exactly like the one sitting beside Misha just a few feet from Godforsaken’s fence.

A princely-looking Cavalier boy with orange-colored hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose. The gaudy blue blazer with the black and gold trim looks even more expensive next to Misha’s grey uniform jacket.

Open lunch boxes sit comfortably between them along with a thermos that Honey notes isn’t Misha’s. They laugh at something she doesn’t quite hear.

It’s strange.

Suddenly the anger crawling up her throat secedes. Maybe it’s the fresh air or the light atmosphere surrounding Misha’s little picnic, but her feet bring her back to Godforsaken’s fence.

Like her whole body is telling her it’s not worth her time.

So the hair clip idiot did have friends? Why did he even bother to sympathize?

Then a group of idiots who look like something you smear off the bottom of your shoe saunter up to the peaceful little picnic scene and throw a kick aimed directly at Misha’s head.

Honey spots an opportunity when she sees one.

--

“How’s the knee?” Misha asks when he comes up behind Elias, who’s sitting on the grass in their designated spot by the river bank. He taps Elias’ leg gently with his toe and Elias shakes it back and forth as if to show it was still somewhat intact.

“Same as always,” Elias smiles, unwrapping his lunch and separating the two boxes for both of them. He hands Misha a box full of creamy, shrimp pasta.

Misha digs in almost immediately, “You know, we can eat on your side so you don’t have to walk so far.”

He gestures to Cavalier’s side of the riverbank, which is slightly more populated than Godforsaken’s side because students actually spread out nice picnic gear. Someone even brought a table for their group of friends.

“Don’t treat me like I’m old,” Elias snorts, shoving Misha’s shoulder playfully, “also Cavalier students are afraid of you Godforsaken High students.”

Misha laughs and Elias pours him a cup of tea before he chokes on his pasta.

“Ah, I get it, I’m here as a deterrent from your ‘fans’.” Misha wipes his mouth and opens the lunchbox he brought, revealing beautifully decorated strawberry shortcakes.

“These are-”

“Look out!”

Honey’s barreling towards them at full speed and Misha thinks she’s out here to pick a fight again, but a sudden foot enters his peripheral.

With the warning, Misha blocks it, the impact striking his wrist just before it hits his face.

That kick might’ve damaged the special hairclip.

“Hey, dimwits,” The owner of the foot cackles like some sort of cartoon villain, rubberhose animated limbs and all, “You remember me?”

Misha doesn’t.

He tosses the foot back, but misses another kick aimed at their lunch and the pasta along with the pretty little shortcakes go flying straight into the grass.

“You stole my rank in front of my crush and she rejected my confession,”

Misha still doesn’t remember, but he’s pretty sure that the rejection wasn’t his fault. The boy looked like a vulture with no wings, back hunched over and neck pulled into his shoulders. A vulture and his flock of equally ugly students.

“I’m a lot higher in The Midnight Rankings now, while you must’ve gotten rusty from all that time away,” And if the boy’s shoulders could tuck any farther into his neck they do.

His fists are raised and Misha doesn’t think he’ll have any luck trying to talk him down.

He’s tired of this. Why had this been brought up twice today? After being able to avoid the topic for so long, why today?

Exhausted from all this talk about the Midnight Fights, he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

“I’m not interested in fighting-”

Misha catches the fist before it collides with his temple.

“I didn’t ask if you were interested.” The boy says with a twisted smile.

Misha looks at their wasted lunch and mourns the remains of his cream pasta spilling out over the lawn similar to a gutted animal. Trying to think of some way to deescalate this.

Before he has his solution, two of the motley crew approach Elias.

Then Misha realizes it. They aren’t just here for him this time.

His body reacts faster than his mind does.

Knuckles into a jaw, a fist that sounds like a clap of thunder and hits twice as hard. Misha doesn’t pull his punches and takes out both sleazy teenagers with a single swing.

Misha hates doing this. He hates having to resort to violence time and time again, even when he’d promised to quit it two years ago. Before he took a year-long break from school. He comes back to using his fists no matter how far he runs away from it.

And this time Elias was dragged into it. Again.

“The Midnight Fights,”

He wants to be rid of this curse that follows him everywhere.

“There’s nothing I want more than to destroy it.”

Then Honey arrives. And so does her bloodlust.

Her knee crashes into the student closest to her, which just so happens to be the oily-looking vulture jerk. His sunken face registering the pain with a slight delay.

Hair billowing out from behind her like a lion’s prideful mane and face just as scowled and furious as it had been earlier that morning, Honey endows all her rage into this powerful knee to the left side of this poor student’s ribs.

Honey sends him flying.

The flock of students helplessly watch their ‘leader’ be thrown mercilessly to the side.

He lands face first into the grass, skidding a distance away before slowing to halt. He recovers, reeling around so fast, the hem of his untucked shirt whips around his torso.

He wipes spit and dirt off his face.

“W-Who the hell are you?”

In a way that is Honey, and only Honey, she flips her hair over her shoulder, golden curls obnoxiously splayed in a sudden breeze that coincidentally comes out of nowhere, and makes her introduction.

“Hunnie.bunnie143 on Sinstagram,” Then with malicious intent, “make sure to follow me.”

The confusion on their faces is evident. Even Elias shares a look with Misha.

She’s just a girl. One with a perm and enough beaded bracelets to make them feel like they’re in the presence of a walking jewelry store.

That might’ve been true, but the sinister quirk tugging at the corner of her lips tells them otherwise.

She isn’t just some girl.

Misha can attest to that but not confidently. He barely knows her. So when she dodges the first attack, a wildly uncoordinated punch, it becomes blatantly clear her little outburst back in the classroom wasn’t just a hoax.

The fist just barely brushes the fabric of her button down shirt, rolling off her shoulder.

Honey twists around the blow, the movement of her dodge allows her hands to get under his arm and on his side. With a powerful shove, the boy is off his feet and on the ground in an instant. She leaps and drives both feet into his gut.

He crumples.

Another one tries to tackle her, using his bulk to his advantage, but Honey ducks easily. His unsuccessful tackle becomes more of a clumsy stagger.

Honey uses her whole body to ram into him, her shoulder plunging right into his torso. He doesn’t fall, much to her visible dismay, but he’s wildly flapping his arms to stay on his feet.

It’s enough time to whip around and throw an elbow right into his jaw.

His head snaps back.

An unlucky fellow behind her reaches for her mass of golden hair. He must have thought it was an easy target since it trailed so freely behind her head.

It’s the worst decision he will make in his entire high school career.

She catches both his wrists in a crushing hold and drives a foot right between his legs.

The blood drains from his face.

Everyone present collectively winces.

Nobody else dares to make a move. Some of the boys begin retreating back up the hill, leaving the ones curled up in pain at Honey’s feet like sacrifices. Her arms across her chest, she seems to be waiting for someone else to challenge her.

When she turns, they all flinch.

She looks directly at Misha. Then lies through her teeth.

“I’ll help you destroy The Midnight Fights.”

She thinks she has him, there’s a slight glimmer of hope behind his eyes and she wants to exploit it. This will be her ticket to revenge.

“No thanks.”

Honey watches the opportunity slip from her hands