Young Bloods

Alvin texted me before first period: Out for two more days. Survive without me. That meant three days of navigating the halls alone.

When the lunch bell rang, I suffered through the cafeteria line just long enough to grab a container of pasta. The place was a sensory nightmare—the floor stuck to my sneakers, and the air smelled like industrial bleach and sweaty teenagers. I paid and walked straight out to the courtyard, claiming my usual bench under the oak tree.

It was quiet here. Most students avoided this corner. Probably because I was sitting in it. Fine by me.

"Look, boys! The stray dog is eating by himself today!"

I didn't look up from my fork. Brook. I recognized the obnoxious, nasally laugh. I kept chewing, perfectly content to ignore them.

"Oh, looks like the dog went deaf."

Heavy footsteps stopped right at the edge of my table. I let out a slow, quiet sigh and turned my head.

Brook and his two usual varsity clones were there, but they had brought a shield. A massive, thick-necked guy who looked like he had been held back three grades. He was cracking his knuckles, trying to look intimidating.

"Ah," I said, my voice completely flat. "It seems the clowns grew a spine because they brought Shrek with them."

"Who are you calling Shrek?" The giant took a heavy step forward, casting a massive shadow over my table.

I leaned back, enjoying the shade. I didn't say a word. I just looked at him with dead, empty eyes.

My lack of reaction pissed him off. His jaw locked. He swung his arm out and smacked my plastic container. The pasta hit the dirt with a wet, pathetic splat.

I looked at the ruined food. Then, I slowly stood up.

"What’s wrong with you, Shrek?" I asked, my heart rate barely elevating. "You’re going to pay for that."

He puffed out his chest, stepping right into my personal space. "Or you'll do what?"

"Try it. Find out."

He took the bait. His massive hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of my shirt collar. "Don’t act tough, Karate boy. Or you’ll—"

My dojo training kicked in. It wasn't anger; it was pure, violent reflex.

Before the word left his mouth, I clamped my hands onto his gripping arm. I pivoted sharply, driving my hips beneath his center of gravity. I pulled forward, executing a brutal Koshi Guruma.

His massive body went airborne for a split second before slamming into the concrete with a sickening thud. All the air left his lungs in a sharp wheeze.

I didn't back away. I stepped forward, planting the sole of my sneaker heavily across his throat, pinning him to the ground.

You ruined my lunch, I thought calmly.

I crouched down, grabbed a fistful of the saucy, dirt-covered pasta from the grass, and forcefully shoved it right into his gasping, open mouth.

He gagged instantly, choking and coughing up mud and noodles, his hands weakly grabbing at my ankle.

I looked up. Brook and his clowns were frozen. All the color had drained from their faces, their eyes wide with absolute horror as they slowly backed away.

"You're a psycho!!" Brook screamed, his tough-guy act completely shattered.

I stared at them, completely unbothered. All bark.

"Daeron!!"

A voice pierced the quiet courtyard. I turned my head. Jessica was sprinting across the grass, pushing past the students who had gathered to watch.

When she broke through the circle, she stopped dead. Her face went stark white. She looked at the giant choking on the ground, then at my foot on his neck.

"Release him, Daeron!!" she yelled, panic lacing her voice.

I blinked, slowly lifting my foot and stepping back.

"Brook, pick him up!" Jessica commanded, pointing to the school doors. "Get him to the nurse!"

Brook didn't hesitate. He and the others hauled the coughing giant up by his armpits and practically dragged him away.

The crowd was dead silent. Jessica turned to me. Her green eyes were wide, staring at me like she was looking at a stranger.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"They threatened me," I said, dusting the dirt off my hands. "He slapped my pasta into the dirt. I just helped him eat it—"

Smack!!! The sharp sting of her palm connecting with my cheek echoed across the courtyard. My head snapped to the side.

"Why are you acting like that?!" she screamed, her chest heaving. "Why are you acting like a monster?!"

I slowly touched my cheek, looking back at her. I wasn't angry. I was just genuinely confused. "He asked for it," I said calmly. "I was defending myself. Why did you slap me?"

"You’re sick!" she choked out. Her eyes filled with tears, spilling over her eyelashes. "You're a fucking psycho!"

She didn't wait for an answer. She turned around, grabbed her friend's arm, and practically ran away from me.

I sat back down on the wooden bench. I looked around. Every single student in the courtyard was staring at me with a mixture of disgust and fear.

I didn't understand. I didn't start the fight. They attacked me, and I ended it. It was self-defense.

I crossed my arms and sat there in the heavy silence, my cheek stinging, watching the spot where she had disappeared.

**

Twenty minutes into fourth period, the heavy wooden door opened. A disciplinary staff member stepped inside, pointing directly at me.

Every head in the classroom turned. As I gathered my backpack and walked down the aisle, the gazes sharpened. They looked at me like I was a caged animal being hauled off to the pound. I didn't look back at them.

The staff marched me down to the counselor's office. When I stepped through the door, the room was already crowded.

Brook, his three varsity clones, and the giant—Herald—were sitting in a row of plastic chairs. Herald was holding an ice pack to the back of his neck.

I didn't feel nervous. I didn't feel a single ounce of regret. He touched my food. He touched my shirt. He deserved the dirt.

I stood by the door and gave them a dead, flat stare. It was a silent promise. This isn't over. Brook swallowed hard, looking away. Herald shifted uncomfortably, staring intently at his untied shoelaces. None of them dared to make eye contact.

The counselor, Mrs. Higgins, called us in one by one. When my turn was over, she gathered all six of us into her cramped office. She rubbed her temples, looking incredibly tired.

"I do not want this to become an escalated issue with the school board," Mrs. Higgins sighed. "If you boys want to avoid a severe suspension, we are going to handle this internally. I want you to apologize to each other." She looked at the jocks. "Brook, Mario, Robby, Jay, and Herald. Will you apologize to Daeron for instigating the altercation?"

"Yes, ma’am," Brook muttered. The others mumbled their agreement.

"Good." She turned her expectant gaze to me. "Now Daeron, will you apologize to them? Specifically to Herald, for the... excessive force?"

I sat perfectly still, my hands resting on my knees. "Never."

The room went dead silent.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Higgins frowned.

"I said never," I repeated, my voice calm and even. "Until they apologize to my best friend for the last twelve months of harassment, don’t even dream of letting them escape from me."

"Daeron!!" Her voice spiked. "This is not a negotiation!"

"If you actually wanted to fix the issue, ma'am, you would look at the root of it." I didn't raise my voice. I just stared at her.

"And what exactly is the root?"

"They are bullies. They have made a sport out of targeting my best friend. I was only standing up to protect him."

"If this has been going on for a year, why didn't you report them?" she demanded, crossing her arms defensively.

"I did," I said, leaning forward slightly. "Three times. But you should ask your staff why those bastards are still buzzing around the hallways like flies while the school turns a blind eye."

Brook scoffed quietly.

"Mind your tone, Daeron!" Mrs. Higgins slammed her hand onto her desk, her face flushing red. "I will not tolerate insubordination! For this specific matter, you will apologize to Herald right now!"

"I won't."

The verdict was swift. Two months of detention for me. One month for Brook and his crew.

I didn't care. I was sick of the hypocrisy. The school system was a joke—they swept the real problems under the rug to protect their athletes, punishing the symptoms instead of the disease. But there was a silver lining. I was going to be stuck in a room with Brook and his clowns every afternoon. I was going to make that hour a living hell for them.

Except, the school wasn't stupid.

When I walked into afternoon detention, the monitor was a retired military guy who didn't let anyone breathe too loud. There was zero chance to intimidate anyone. After an hour of staring at the chalkboard in absolute silence, I grabbed my bag and went straight home.

**

My punishment wasn't just longer; it was deeper. I had been assigned Saturday detention. Fuck. Still, as I sat in the empty classroom on a Saturday morning, listening to the clock tick, I rationalized it. Alvin had a free month. He could walk the halls without looking over his shoulder. The trade was worth it.

At noon, the monitor dismissed us. I walked out of the heavy double doors, throwing my backpack over my shoulder, ready to lock myself in my room for the rest of the weekend.

"Daeron."

I stopped.

Jessica was standing by the school gates. She wasn't wearing her cheerleader uniform. She looked small, wrapped in an oversized green hoodie, her hands shoved deep into her pockets.

"What?" I asked, walking past her without breaking stride.

"Did you just get out of Saturday detention?" she asked, jogging slightly to keep up with me.

"No."

"Then why are you here on a Saturday?"

"None of your business."

She grabbed the strap of my backpack, forcing me to stop. "Daeron! I just want to apologize."

I slowly turned my head, looking down at her hand until she let go of my bag. "For what?"

"For... slapping you." She swallowed hard, her green eyes searching my face. "And... for reporting the fight to the counselor."

My calm facade cracked.

"What the fuck?" I turned my whole body toward her, my brow furrowing in genuine anger. "You reported that shit? I thought a teacher saw it from the window! Why the hell did you report it? You wanted to get rid of the 'psycho' so bad, you hoped they’d expel me?"

"No!!! No, no, no!" She stepped forward, shaking her head frantically, her voice bordering on a panic. "I just wanted Brook and his friends to stop bothering you and Alvin! I went straight to the office! I told the counselor exactly what happened!"

I let out a harsh, dry scoff. "Bullshit. The counselor didn't know a damn thing about what they did to Alvin. She only cared about my brawl."

"I swear!" she pleaded, reaching out but stopping before she touched my arm. "I told the counselor everything! If you don’t believe me, we can go ask her directly on Monday!"

"Pfft. I don’t care." I adjusted my backpack, my face returning to an impenetrable mask. "Keep your 'help' to yourself. And stay away from me. You shouldn't hang around a psycho anyway."

"Daeron! Please! Just listen—"

I turned my back on her. I didn't say goodbye. I just walked away from the school gates, leaving her standing alone on the sidewalk, and headed home.

**

Sunday morning was quiet. My room was my sanctuary—no jocks, no teachers, no screaming cheerleaders. Just the low hum of my console and the AC.

The peace broke when Alvin walked in. He looked tired, the grief of the last few days still hanging around his shoulders, but he offered a weak smile as he tossed his bag aside and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Dude. I heard you got detention?"

"Yeah," I replied, my voice completely flat. I didn't look away from the TV screen. "Got into it with small-dick Brook and his varsity clones."

"Huh? Why did you fight them?"

"They ambushed my lunch in the courtyard. Brought a giant with them to try and intimidate me."

Alvin adjusted his glasses. "A giant? Who?"

"Think they called him Herald."

"Oh, shit. I know Herald. He's huge." Alvin frowned. "Wait. You fought Herald? Why?"

I paused the game. I turned my head slowly, giving Alvin a deadpan, unimpressed stare. "Seriously? You're really asking me that?"

Alvin scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well... I mean, I wasn't there. They usually only start shit with you when they're trying to get to me. It’s unusual for them to just walk up and threaten you."

"They got bold because they brought a meat shield," I said, turning back to the screen. "It didn't work out for them. I slammed him."

Alvin let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Let me guess. You threw him, and then you either stomped his neck or pinned his head to the ground, right?"

I blinked, genuinely mildly surprised. "How did you know?"

"Dude, because that’s the exact same thing you did to Brook before the summer break!" Alvin groaned, leaning back against my headboard. "You need to be careful, man. You can't just keep dropping people like that. It's going to get you expelled. Though, I have to admit, it was a pretty stupid move for the jocks to actually report it to the counselor. They look weak."

"It wasn't them," I said, my tone indifferent.

"What?"

"It was Jessica. The ginger girl from the courtyard."

Alvin’s eyes went wide. "Wait, what? Why would she report it? I thought she hated Brook."

"I don't know, and I don't care. Ask her." I picked up the second gamepad and tossed it onto his lap. The school drama was exhausting, and I was done talking about it. "Boot it up, Al. I haven't seen your desperate, losing face in three days. I missed it."

Alvin looked at the controller, then at me, the heavy tension of the week finally breaking. A genuine laugh escaped him.

"Fuck you, man." He grabbed the controller and settled in.

**

A week of afternoon detention was mental torture. Sitting in a silent room staring at a chalkboard went against every instinct I had.

Normally, Alvin would wait for me by the gates, but Saturday detention crossed a line. It ate into my actual free time. When Alvin offered to come sit outside the school in solidarity, I told him to stay home and grind my RPG character's stats instead. I refused to lose my gaming progress just because Brook's crew couldn't fight.

To be completely honest, though? Saturday detention wasn't the worst thing in the world. It saved me from sitting in my house. My parents traveled non-stop for work. The house was massive, quiet, and completely hollow. At least in detention, there were people to glare at.

At noon, the monitor finally dismissed us. I walked out the front doors, tossing my bag over my shoulder.

Jessica was standing by the school gate.

I didn't break my stride. I just kept walking right past her.

"Daeron, please! You’ve ignored me for a whole week!" she called out, jogging to catch up.

I stopped, letting out a slow, measured breath. "What do you want, Cheeto?"

"I just wanted to apologize properly. And to tell you... your punishment has been shortened to two weeks."

"Huh?" My flat expression faltered for a second. "Why didn't the counselor tell me?"

"Listen! I went to Alvin, and we talked to the counselor together. We explained the whole context about how they target him. After cross-checking with some other students who saw the courtyard fight, the counselor agreed to reduce your sentence. They couldn't wipe it completely because you did technically start a brawl."

"You didn't answer the question," I said calmly. "If this is true, why didn't the counselor or Alvin tell me?"

"Because I asked them not to." She looked up at me, her green eyes earnest. "I caused this mess. I wanted to be the one to tell you directly, and I wanted to apologize. So... can you forgive me?"

I stared at her. She had actually rallied Alvin and witnesses to fight the school administration for me. No one had ever done that before.

I turned around and started walking away.

"Please, Daeron! I’m sorry!"

"Yeah, I forgive you," I said in a deadpan voice.

"Really????"

"No." I stopped and turned back to her, crossing my arms. "If you want actual forgiveness, you have to buy me food."

"Deal! Let’s go!"

"Just to be clear," I stated smoothly. "You are paying. Understand?"

"Yes, yes! Come on, I know a great place."

She dragged me several blocks away from campus. I figured we were heading to a hotdog stand or a burger joint. Instead, she stopped in front of a sit-down Italian restaurant with cloth napkins on the tables.

"Whoa, Cheeto. What are you thinking?" I stopped on the sidewalk. "Let’s just go find a hotdog cart."

"Let’s eat here, Daeron. You order pasta at the cafeteria every single day. I know you like it. Come on."

She walked inside before I could protest. I followed her, shaking my head.

We slid into a corner booth. The warm smell of baked dough, garlic, and rich tomato sauce instantly made my stomach growl. She handed me a menu and insisted I order whatever I wanted. Not wanting to bankrupt her, I ordered a simple Bolognese.

"I'm confirming this one more time, Cheeto. Are you sure about this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Daeron. Chill out and enjoy the food." She smiled, a bright, genuine expression that actually managed to crack my stoicism. I relaxed slightly into the booth.

"Alright then. Thank you. For this, and for the counselor."

"I should be thanking you," she said softly. "I’m really sorry you had to suffer through detention alone."

"Meh. It’s fine." I took a sip of my water. "Honestly, having them locked in a room with me every afternoon gives Alvin some space to breathe. It’s a fair trade."

She rested her chin on her hand, looking at me with a soft amusement. "You're always thinking about your best friend, aren't you? Even when you're the one facing the hardship."

"I just do what I have to do, Jess."

"Just like a superhero," she giggled.

"I’m not a hero."

"Right, right. You’re a firefighter." She stirred her drink with her straw, her eyes glinting mischievously. "But you know, after I heard what you told the counselor... about refusing to let Brook 'escape from your claws'... you sounded a lot less like a firefighter and a lot more like a Tiger."

I stared at her, completely unimpressed. "Ugh. That’s incredibly corny. You downgraded me from a public servant to an animal?"

She burst out laughing. A moment later, I found myself chuckling with her. The food arrived, but she didn't drop the joke.

"I'm serious! You’re definitely a Tiger," she teased, pointing her fork at me. "Big, firm, intimidating, incredibly charismatic... buuuut, deep down inside, you're basically just a soft little kitty. Hahahahaha!"

"Fuck off, Cheeto," I said, my mouth full of pasta. "Let’s just eat."

We ended up sitting in that booth for hours. We talked about absolutely nothing, trading insults and sarcastic banter. I realized I hadn't talked this much in months. Eventually, the sky outside grew dark, and we had to call it a night before we missed our buses.

Jessica waved the waiter over with a confident smile and asked for the check. A minute later, the leather booklet was placed on the table. She opened it.

Her confident smile instantly vanished.

"Daeron!" she hissed, sliding across the booth toward me in a panic.

"What?"

"I only brought thirty dollars... the bill is forty-five! Help me!"

"Uggggghhhhh."

I closed my eyes, letting out the longest, heaviest sigh of my life. I pulled out my wallet, placed two twenties and a ten on the table, and stood up. I ended up paying for my own apology dinner.

"Thank you, Tigerrrr!" she beamed as we walked out onto the street.

"I didn’t know it was going to cost more than thirty bucks!” She bit her lip, looking up through her eyelashes with a guilty, triumphant smile. "But you're my hero, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," I retorted, shaking my head. I had been completely scammed.

"Don’t be upset, okay? I’ll make it up to you next time, Tiger!"

"Ugh." I shoved my hands into my pockets to hide the fact that I was smiling. "Stop with that pet name, Cheeto."