Morning light crept through the thin white curtains, painting the walls and cluttered desk in its golden hue. Birds chattered in trees to fill the quiet suburb, flying over picket fences and landing softly on dew-covered lawns. The frosty air gently flowed through the window, cooling a room that would soon disturb this early morning peace.

  “Ace! ACE!” yelled Joseph, Ace’s father, stomping towards his curtains and hurling them to each side.

  The morning light brightened the room in an instant and hit Ace square in the face.

  With one arm dangling off the bed, sheets tangled like he’d wrestled with his dreams, Ace tiredly opened his eyes, struggling to hold them attentively as they dried out in seconds. Ace groaned incoherently to his father and rolled over to the other side of his bed.

  “Don’t you have school?!” Joseph questioned, an attempt to spark some sense into the boy who would once again skip breakfast as he rushed his morning routine.

  It was in that moment that Ace stretched his arm out to lazily open his phone, only to realise that he would need to get to school in twenty minutes. Panicked, Ace shot out of bed, his covers flying off of him. Disorientated, he rushed past his dad and dove down the stairs. Opening his fridge, Ace opted to have a chocolate protein drink as opposed to an actual meal – though to Ace, it was a decent alternative. As he rushed back upstairs, Ace panted for air, his body in a state of confusion after transitioning from a stationary position, to chugging protein and drilling up and down stairs, skipping a step each time.

  After throwing on his school uniform in record time, Ace took a quick glance in the mirror that showed a mess of hair which refused to cooperate. After a furious brushing session, he made peace with it, deciding it was ‘good enough’. Ace sprinted down the stairs, holding onto the railing like a lifeline, and jumped from the fifth step, a daring move that felt like it could have been his last. Upon a successful landing, Ace slung his bag over his shoulder leaving the house rattled and fled out the door, the cold air slapping him in the face as he rushed to pick up his bike. Guiding it through the driveway, the sound of the chains clicked to life beneath his feet.

  “Five minutes left…no problem…” He muttered to himself as he pedalled down the street hard enough to make the tires scream.

  After flying through streets, squeezing through cars, and almost hitting every pedestrian on the sidewalk, Ace eventually rounded the final corner providing him with a clear view of Blackthorn High. Ace glided on his bike towards the gates and looked down at his watch – 13 minutes late. Not his best record. Pedalling through the car park, Ace stopped just behind the school with the rest of the students’ bikes, kicking out the stand and praying he wouldn’t be the reason they all topple over like dominos… again. Taking his usual walk of shame through the cold morning breeze, he pushed open the icy steel gate, walking through to see students dispersing from the usual crowd that forms during morning announcements - something that Ace rarely catches. Looking through the clutter of students and constant movement, a familiar figure made itself known, bumping past students as he forced his way through the crowd. He moved as if he owned the place, his hands tucked in his pockets, brushing off the complaints from students he bumped into. At six foot ten and a mop for hair, he wasn’t exactly hard to miss, and often times impossible to ignore. Through the clatter of footsteps, Ace pushed himself through the waves of students towards him – his best, and only friend, Cato.

  Spotting Ace, Cato threw the back of his hand to Ace’s chest in a playful manner in order to grab his attention.

  “There he is! Late once again!” he mocked, grinning as he tossed a half-eaten protein bar at Ace. Fumbling the catch, Ace took a moment to unwrap the confusing gesture before looking back up at Cato, an eyebrow raised as he questioned whether he was serious or not.

  “Breakfast of champions,” Cato added.

  Ace sighed, tossing the half-eaten gesture inside his backpack.

  “So, what did I miss?” questioned Ace as he stepped beside Cato, brushing past the crowd and pathing towards the crowded lockers instead. The school hallway was filled with echoed chatter and the sound of squeaking locker doors.

  “Not sure to be honest,” Cato responded, turning his back towards the lockers and falling against them.

  “Were you there?” Ace questioned while unlocking his locker, always seeming to need to jiggle around the key in the padlock before hearing a ‘click’.

  “Well, yeah, I just didn’t pay any attention,” Cato replied.

  “Of course…”

  Cato’s eyes drifted through the halls as if expecting someone, until that someone he expected finally showed up. He repeatedly tapped Ace’s arm to grab his attention.

  “Yo, Ace, play it cool, Lexi and Lily are coming this way,” he whispered, kicking one foot up against the locker behind him to try and seem nonchalant.

  Ace didn’t reply, not because he didn’t hear him, but more so because his entire body froze up. Upon hearing that Lily was close, Ace grew increasingly interested in what was in his locker, taking note of every scratch and colour, picking up books he didn’t even need just for the sake of looking busy. Anytime he saw or heard of Lily, Ace’s heart would skip a beat and act a fool. He’s had a crush on her for a while now, but has never had the guts to just tell her how he feels. He could feel his cheeks turning to a shade of red, his forehead sweating as he heard their footsteps approaching them. By this point, Ace was leaning so far into his locker, that it looked as if he was trying to crawl inside.

  “What am I doing?” Ace whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the chatter of the hallway.

  “Sup Lex,” Cato said, flicking his head upwards at her.

  Lexi smiled, amused by Cato’s attempt at being casual. The afternoon sun spilled through the high windows, catching the gold in her hair as she stopped in front of him. Lily hovered at her side, clutching her books closely to her chest, her feet turned slightly inwards.

  “Hey C.C.,” she said, placing one hand on her hip, tilting her chin upwards, her signature smirk curling her lips.

  “Ready for class?” she questioned, tilting her head at him. Meanwhile, Lily was looking around, almost as if she herself were looking for someone.

  “Of course. I’m always ready,” replied C.C. confidently.

  “Oh? And where might your books be?” questioned Lexi, bringing her hand up and curling her fingers inwards, inspecting her nails as she waited for a reply.

  “Don’t need ‘em.”

  “Riiight.” She mocked. “And is there a reason your bag is the only one out of its locker?”

  “What are you, a teacher now?”

  Despite pointing out the clear evidence that C.C. had once again forgotten to bring the key to his locker, Lexi chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear and looking up at him. She was entertained by his ability to make her laugh with his inconveniences and unique attitude.

  “Besides, Ace has got me, right Ace?”, C.C. added, nudging Ace’s shoulder. Still buried inside the books of his locker, a large hand gripped Ace’s head and turned it around to face the two beautiful girls. As he locked eyes with Lily, he immediately looked away, his throat suddenly drying out. Lily on the other hand, seemed to brighten up, hugging her books tighter and giving a small smile as she finally realised that Ace had been there the entire time.

  “Hi Ace! I didn’t even notice you there!” said Lily.

  “O-oh, y-yeah I w-was just… uh… grabbing my books… and stuff…” replied Ace, his brain unable to cooperate with his heart, sending him spiralling, stricken in his ability to form coherent sentences. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

  Hearing the school bell toll throughout the halls, Lily jumped, almost dropping her books.

  “Oh! Lexiii! We are going to be late!” Lily nagged, tugging at Lexi’s jumper with one hand while holding up her books in the other.

  “Alright, alright, let’s go. See you later C.C.,” said Lexi, waving goodbye to him as she turned and stepped beside Lily, rushing to class with her.

  C.C. smiled, leaning his shoulder against the locker once more, and looked at Ace.

  “I-I-I-I w-w-w-w-was j-j-j-ust…” he mocked.

  “Shut up C.C., I was nervous, that’s all,” Ace replied, annoyed. He wasn’t angry with his friend, but at himself, for once again missing out on talking with the girl he liked. Another opportunity lost to his own sabotage. C.C. just laughed, patting Ace’s back to reassure him.

  “I’m only joking bro. But you do have to man up eventually dude. She was right there!”

  “I know! I just… I don’t know; I can’t help it. I just freeze up and get so nervous…”

  Even though C.C. would take every chance he had to mock Ace, he did have a sense of sympathy for his friend.

  “It’s alright man. Hey, by the way, can I ask for a favour?”

  “Depends what it is.”

  “I really do need a pencil for class…”

  “Oh…”

  “And maybe a snack for lunch.”

  Ace just shook his head, closing his locker and carried his books at his side, walking to class with C.C. whilst sifting through his pencil case to find a spare pen or pencil for the unorganised brute that he called his ‘friend’.

  --------------------------------------------------------------

  The dull buzz of chatter filled the math classroom as the two stepped inside. The air smelled faintly of whiteboard markers and stale air-conditioning. C.C. strolled ahead, scanning the rows of desks with all the urgency of a Sunday walk, twirling his lone pencil between his fingers. It would be his only weapon for the next fifty minutes.

  “You’re seriously coming in with just that?” Ace muttered under his breath.

  “You know it champ,” C.C. said, grinning without looking back.

  They slipped into their usual seats near the window, both Lily and Lexi sitting only a few seats in front of them. C.C. slouched instantly, chair tilted back on two legs, fingers drumming a lazy rhythm against the desk. Ace, on the other hand, lined up his books and pencil case in perfect order like he was preparing for an inspection. The contrast between them was almost comical, and maybe that’s why they worked so well together. The cool breeze from the window blew through the class, fluttering the pages of books and gently moving the dusty shutters that hung from above.

  The classroom door soon flew open, Mr. Crowl, their math teacher, rushing to the front of the room, his bag brushing pass everyone’s desk, knocking some pencils and books to the ground along the way. He ran a hand through his greying hair, leaning on the chair to steady himself. The chatter died instantly, chairs scraped back as everyone shuffled into their seats.

  “Phew, sorry I’m late everyone. I needed to be sure that I had everyone’s results for last week’s exam,” Crowl announced, unzipping his black bag and pulling out piles of exam papers, neatly placing them on his desk.

  “Oh fuck,” C.C. silently breathed, now sitting upright upon the hearing of results.

  As Crowl fell down into his chair with an exhale, he rolled himself forward in the squeaky swivel chair and picked up the first paper on the top of the pile. One by one, he called everyone’s name, passing off their results, each student either smiling down at their papers, or silently walking back to their desks, hiding their exams against their body. Soon, Ace’s name was called. He stood up from his chair, walking to the front of the class and taking his paper from Crowl.

  “Well done, Ace,” Crowl said, peering at him over the rim of his glasses. “I’d like to keep seeing these kinds of results.”

  Ace nodded and returned to his seat. The red ink on his paper burned bright against the white — 100%. Ace let out a sigh of relief, his day instantly brightened by this latest achievement. Meanwhile, C.C. was tapping his pencil against the desk, visibly nervous as he waited to hear his name.

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  “Don’t worry C.C., you’ll be fine,” Ace said in an attempt to reassure him.

  Suddenly, Crowl picked up a paper, looking up towards C.C. and letting out a sigh of disappointment.

  “Cato!” Crowl called out.

  C.C. shot up from his chair, stumbling behind Ace and making his way to grab his paper. “Hey sir, what’s up?” he said.

  “Not your grades,” Crowl replied, handing C.C. his paper.

  “Ah come on sir, it can’t be that ba-,” he said before having his words cut after looking down at his mark. Walking back to his desk, Cato set his exam face down, slouching back into his chair. “Least I got the date right this time.”

  As the rest of the results were being handed out, C.C. felt an annoying tapping on his shoulder.

  “Hey, C.C., what’d you get for your exam?” came a voice from behind. C.C. and Ace turned to see Miles “Milo” Finch - all five-foot-four of him — leaning over his desk, half-hanging off of it just to reach the giant’s shoulder. His brown hair was stiff with too much gel, standing in uneven spikes that glinted under the fluorescent lights.

  “What the- where did you come from?” C.C. snapped, brows furrowed. Noticing the familiar tension, Ace jumped in before things could ignite. “I got a perfect score Milo. What about you?”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s great Ace, but I want to know what this dumbass got,” poked Miles with a grin on his face. Any hope of upholding peace quickly faded, and Ace just turned back around resting his chin on his hand. His gaze drifted across the class until it landed on Lily. Through the blur of shoulders and moving heads, she looked ethereal. Ace’s mind began to wander, sketching impossible daydreams of the two of them together. Laughing, walking home, and maybe even holding hands.

  Quick to snap Ace out of his trance was C.C.’s bruised ego.

  “What was that?!” He asked, twisting in his seat to face Miles who had now retreated back into his own, amused by the reaction he had created.

  “Hahaha! Nah, no way you failed again!” Miles laughed, seeming genuinely shocked at the prospect that C.C. had failed yet another test this year.

  C.C. clenched his jaw and snatched Miles’s exam from his desk. Too slow to stop him, Miles’s hand slammed down on his desk, missing the paper, the loud thud between his hand and the hollow desk inevitably drawing attention towards them. Ace groaned under his breath and covered his face with his hand out of embarrassment.

  “Hey give it back!” Miles shouted, reaching back over his desk to pull at C.C.’s arm.

  “Yeah, not laughing now, are you?” C.C. snapped. “How about we swap? I’m starting to like this 78%!”

  Miles tried again, reaching for C.C.’s arm. “I said give it—”

  As he caught onto C.C.’s arm, the giant jerked his elbow back, accidentally striking Miles in the nose. Miles flew back in his chair, swearing in pain as he clutched his nose, tears welling up in his eyes. The class froze still. Even the ticking clock appeared to stop.

  “CATO! OUTSIDE! NOW!” exploded Crowl’s voice with rage as he slammed his hand against the desk, shooting up from the chair and pointing out to the door.

  “But sir, he was-” C.C. spoke.

  “NOT ANOTHER WORD! OUTSIDE!”

  C.C. sighed, standing up from his desk and shoving his hands in his pockets, striding out of the classroom and leaning against the wall beside the door, just out of sight from Crowl.

  “Ace, could you take Miles to the office to get fixed up? And tell that smartass outside to stand where I can see him,” commanded Crowl.

  Ace blinked, still reeling from the outburst, and nodded. He helped Miles to his feet, the smaller boy still sniffling through his bloody nose, and guided him toward the hallway, the murmurs of the class buzzing faintly behind them.

  “Crowl says you need to stand where he can see you,” Ace said to his friend quietly.

  C.C. grunted, pushing off the wall only to lean onto the next one closest to the door, waving to Crowl from outside. Ace walked with Miles through the halls, drops of blood leaving a trail behind them. As they entered the front office, the heaters warmth brushed over them. Ace guided Miles to a cushioned chair before walking over to the receptionist. The tapping of computer keys was the only sound between the two of them, Ace’s presence seeming to be unnoticed by her.

  “Uh… hi?” Ace mumbled, attempting to grab her attention.

  “What do you want?” the receptionist replied, her eyes fixed at the computer screen.

  “Well, Miles had a bit of an accident.”

  “He pissed himself again?”

  “What? No! No, I-I mean he has an injury. Hurt his nose.”

  The receptionist stood up, pulling her glasses down and squinting over at Miles who was silently swearing in the chair as blood dripped down from his face and staining the floor in a dark red hue. Rolling her eyes, she walked off mumbling to herself before returning with an ice pack.

  “Take him to the bathrooms to get him cleaned up. Then have him hold this against his nose,” she said handing Ace the ice pack. “And hurry up, he’s dripping blood everywhere!”

  Confused by the lack of care for the incident, Ace just held onto the ice pack and helped Miles back up to his feet, taking him to the gym bathrooms. The gym was already bustling with students. Sneakers squeaked loudly while whistles blew every few seconds, incomprehensible shouting filling any silence that tried to break through the basketball practice taking place. Ace and Miles finally made it to the bathrooms where Miles stood in front of the sink, inspecting his nose in the mirror. Ace moved aside some gym bags to make room for himself on the bench, kicking a deodorant can away from him.

  “Damn it man! I can’t stop bleeding!” shouted Miles, turning on the taps and splashing his face with water, blood swirling down the drain like paint washing off a brush. Ace leaned against the wall, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently. It felt like the entire class had passed while Miles fussed over his nose. The flickering light above buzzed like an angry fly. Cracked tiles lined the walls, and a few dead moths littered the floor beneath the sinks. Somewhere in the corner, a spider dangled from a trembling thread.

  The sound of hissing water was broken by a violent bang, the bathroom door slamming against the wall, its hinges rattling as if threatening to break. A tall figure strolled into the bathroom proudly rocking a dark blue basketball jersey. Ace’s neck snapped towards the door and his pulse quickened.

  Jaxson Kane.

  Jaxson’s grin spread slow and wide, the kind that promised trouble. He stalked past the door, his eyes immediately landing on the blood-streaked sink.

  “Oho,” he drawled. “What happened here?”

  “Nothing, you should see the other guy!” responded Miles, his voice nasal due to the countless tissues he had pressed up against his nose. Jaxson scoffed, Ace quickly catching his attention. Ace instinctively looked away, but it was too late.

  Jaxson chuckled under his breath, stepping closer. That’s when his eyes caught Ace’s.

  “Hey, hey, there he is,” Jaxson said, strolling over until he stood directly above him, close enough that Ace could smell the faint tang of sweat and cheap cologne. “You get stuck with this loser, huh?”

  “No, he just—”

  “I was talking to Miles.”

  Ace froze. Words tangled in his throat. His mind went blank — every possible comeback drowned by the thudding in his chest.

  Jaxson reached into his bag and pulled out his jacket, tossing it onto Ace’s lap. “Oh, by the way, could you clean my jacket? Lily bought me an energy drink, but I spilt it all over myself.”

  “W-what? No, clean it yourself.” Ace responded, too frightened to throw his jacket back to him, so instead placing it beside him.

  “Oh, come on. Lily will be so happy to hear that you licked the drink clean from my jacket. Do it for her!”

  “I’m not going to clean your jacket.”

  Ace stared down at the crumpled fabric, the faint smell of sugar and fruit punch clinging to it. “No. Clean it yourself.”

  Jaxson’s grin sharpened. “That’s not the right attitude to have. Lily would be so proud of you licking up the drink she bought me. You can’t say no.”

  “I’m not cleaning your jacket.”

  The room seemed to tighten. The fluorescent light buzzed louder.

  Jaxson sighed, exaggeratedly disappointed, before turning toward Miles. He grabbed the smaller boy by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back until Miles cried out.

  “Hey! What the hell — let go!” Miles shouted, tissues dropping to the floor, smeared with blood.

  “Listen, Ace,” Jaxson said, his voice low and calm. “I’m in no mood for your smartass attitude. I get enough of that from C.C.! Now, unless you want to hear this idiot’s shoulder pop, clean the damn jacket.”

  Ace’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to move and yell, but it was like being trapped in a nightmare. His body wouldn’t respond.

  “W-wait! Stop! Let him go! I’ll clean it!”

  Jaxson laughed, shoving Miles to the ground like a broken toy. He snatched the jacket back and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Thanks, Ace,” he said, already heading for the door. “But you know what? I might just throw it in the wash instead. Still, good to know that you’re always ready to help.”

  He waved lazily over his shoulder. “I’ll whistle if I need anything.”

  The door slammed shut, the echo ringing through the tiled room long after he’d gone.

  Ace stood still, fists clenched, jaw tight. Humiliation burned hot in his chest, mixing with something heavier.

  Finally, he dropped onto a bench, his leg bouncing uncontrollably. His hands tangled in his short black hair as he stared at the floor, breath unsteady. The fear that Jaxson brought into the room for Ace was gone, but it was guilt and embarrassment that he was wrestling with now.

  Behind him, Miles groaned, pulling himself up from the tiles. He staggered toward the paper towel dispenser and clawed out the last few sheets.

  “Would you hurry up, man?! It’s just a bloody nose!” Ace snapped, his voice breaking the silence. The anger wasn’t for Miles, but Miles got it anyway.

  Miles flinched, staring at him in disbelief. “What are you on about?! I got elbowed in the face and almost had my arm snapped!” he yelled back, grabbing at the empty dispenser. “Damn it! Hey, can you grab some toilet paper or something?”

  Ace shot up, eyes blazing. “Get it yourself!”

  He shoved the door open and stormed out, the slam echoing down the empty hall.

  Navigating through the halls, Ace had abandoned Miles, leaving him to care for himself. Ace rejoined his math class to see messy textbooks and loose papers scrambled all over his classmates’ desks. All except for his - and unsurprisingly, C.C.’s. Ace took his seat, his mind stuck in a loop of made-up arguments and actions he could have said or done during his encounter with Jaxson.

  “Took your time,” C.C. commented, comfortably leaned back in his seat with his hands behind his back. “With Miles gone I’ve been able to stretch myself out a lot further.”

  Ace was unresponsive, instead focusing on the lesson and trying his best to catch up on what he had missed out on. All the while C.C. was twirling a pencil around his fingers, occasionally dropping it every few seconds.

  After 14 minutes of writing out equations in an almost unreadable format, the bell tolled through the class. Ace’s working out was randomly written and completely filling up a once blank page in his notebook, a confusing mess to anyone else – but not to him. Packing away his stationary and shutting his books, Ace looked over at C.C. to see him biting at the end of the pencil he had lent him. Noticing Ace’s disappointed look, C.C. handed him his pencil back and stood up from his seated position.

  “Breakfast of champions,” C.C. yawned, shoving his hands back in his pockets as he waited for Ace to pack his things.

  “Just...keep it,” Ace said. He knew arguing wouldn’t be worth it, instead rolling the pencil back towards C.C. with the flick of his finger. As he hoisted his books under his arm, he followed C.C. out of class. The two pushed past the traffic of students that flooded the hallways, the sound chatter and squeaky locker doors filling the halls once more. C.C. crouched down to his bag, unzipping it and pulling out a change of gym clothes, throwing them over his shoulder while crumpling up his school blazer into a ball and dropping it into his bag.

  “Finally get to thrash some dogs in something I’m good at,” C.C. said, kicking his bag towards the lockers and throwing his gym gear over his shoulder. Ace followed, taking out his change of clothes and shoes and stepping beside C.C. towards the gym. Packs of students followed, slowly pouring into the gym to prepare for their Physical Education class. C.C. kicked open the locker room door, and threw his hands into the air.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! The Titan has arrived!” he announced.

  His announcements were usually met with silence, followed by quiet laughter and whispers. A reaction that C.C. has always claimed as jealousy.

  Embarrassed, Ace slipped past him, taking an empty spot on a bench and setting his clothes down, mumbling to himself as he unbuttoned his shirt.

  “Yeah, ‘Titan twat’,” spoke a student next to Ace as he tied his shoes. Unaware of the remarks made by the other students, C.C. threw his clothes next to Ace and began to change. Once they were done, a line of girls and boys followed from out the bathroom to the gym. Inside, everyone stood silent as they faced coach Fern who had his arm crossed at his chest, his eyes darting to each student as if inspecting every fibre of their uniform. Suddenly he raised the whistle that dangled from his neck, blowing it with all of his might.

  “AAALRIGHT! Listen up everyone! Today we are going to be focusing on teamwork!” he shouted, placing his hands behind his back as he began to pace up and down in front of the large class. “You’re going to learn how to win through the art of communication and strategy. Not just brute strength!”

  C.C. rolled his eyes.

  “That’s why today… we are going to be playing… DODGEBALL!” coach Fern yelled, pointing towards the centre of the court where a line of dodgeballs laid perfectly still.

  “Now, I’m going to go through and give you all a colour. That colour will define the team you are on.”

  Ace wasn’t opposed to the idea on being on a team. Especially when the chance of being on the same team as Lily was available. Ace found himself looking through the crowd for Lily, attempting to figure out where he should position himself in order to guarantee he would be placed with her. C.C. evidently had the same idea, reciting the order of colours that coach Fern was assigning to himself.

  “Blue, red, yellow, green, blue, red, yellow, green, blue, red…”

  As students dispersed to the four corners of the room, Lily’s presence was soon found, as was Lexi’s.

  “Blue!” coach Fern said as he looked at Lily, quickly moving on to assign Lexi to red. C.C. panicked as coach Fern approached, realising he wouldn’t make red. “Hey! move it!” he grunted, pushing past students and squeezing between them.

  While entertaining Ace was guilty of the same act, panicking as he tried to squeeze into the right position. That was until Ace bumped into someone, unable to push through.

  “Sorry guys!” he squirmed, still trying to push past them. But there was no chance. To make matters worse, the figure turned around to reveal themselves. Jaxson Kane.

  “Oh it’s you. I thought I felt something,” Jaxson said, brushing his shoulder and then turning back to coach Fern. Ace took a step back, the words stinging more than he expected. Part of him wanted to speak up, to explain himself, to tell Jaxson to just let him have this. Maybe Jaxson would even feel bad for him. But Ace chose silence. After all, it was safer.

  Coach Fern scribbled something on his clipboard and nodded toward Jaxson. “Blue team.”

  Jaxson smirked and strutted off, the faint squeak of his shoes echoing against the gym floor. Ace stood there, caught in his shadow until Fern’s voice pulled him back.

  “Red team, Ace.”

  Ace slumped his shoulders and dragged himself to the far side of the court. C.C. was already there, grinning like he owned the place, leaning on the wall beside Lexi and throwing out lines that made her roll her eyes, yet not walk away. Ace hovered behind them, not wanting to intrude. He crossed his arms, sinking into the background as the gym buzzed with chatter. Across the court, Lily was talking to Jaxson, laughing at something he said. Her smile reached her eyes.

  Ace tried not to look. Tried not to care. But his gaze betrayed him again and again, drawn back to her every few seconds like gravity itself was mocking him.

  In a matter of seconds, students were bundled up at each corner of the gym, coach Fern walking to the centre and blowing his whistle to gather everyone’s attention.

  “Alright! Let’s have yellow and blue up first! Winner stays on!” he boomed from the court, walking backwards until he was on the sidelines. I followed my group to the opposite side of the court, watching closely as the both playing teams lined themselves to my left and right side.

  “Now you all know how this works. Drop to your stomachs and when the whistle blows, run to grab your ammunition. Got it?” Fern shouted, his head swivelling from side to side, ensuring everyone was playing fairly.

  As the whistle blew, the blue team flew up, Jaxson especially. Being one of the top basketball players of the school, it was expected. He pushed himself off the ground in an instant, outpacing the entire yellow team and reaching the first dodgeball at the centre. The yellow team faltered. A few students stumbled to a stop, uncertain whether to dive for the remaining balls or just get out of his way. Some retreated, others froze.

  Jaxson’s grin spread across his face as he sensed the fear his image created. He could feel the tension in the room bending towards him. The throw came fast. A sharp, explosive motion. The ball smacked into a smaller student’s stomach with a loud crack, the sound echoing through the gym. The kid folded instantly, stumbling backward and collapsing to the floor before limping off the court. C.C.’s laughter burst out behind Ace, loud and cruel. Ace winced. Coach Fern seemed unbothered, almost impressed. Ace knew that this class was no longer about hanging out with Lily, it was about surviving. Ball after ball flew across the court. One by one, the yellow team fell, clutching arms, shoulders, and sides, gasping for air as they crawled off to the benches. Each hit was followed by another cheer from Jaxson’s crew, their victory cries echoing off the gym walls.

  It wasn’t long until the whistle blew, the yellow team full of injured groans and an empty court. Fern’s whistle blew loudly as he pointed towards Ace.

  “Red team! You’re up!” Fern shouted.

  Ace began to sweat. Feeling sweat run down his sides, Ace’s body screamed to run. To hide. Shoulders bumped past him, C.C. cracking his neck and knuckles as he strode over to the line with confidence, Lexi shaking her head as she followed behind him. Ace couldn’t bear to look over at Jaxson, but he could feel his stare. That his every move was being watched. Ace nervously walked over to C.C.’s side, dropping to the ground and looking upwards. He knew he couldn’t outpace Jaxson. He had to play this safe. To wait for the balls to come to him.

  The room grew silent. Silent whispers dying at the sidelines and the tension between each team eagerly waiting for the whistle to blow.

  “Can’t wait to knock these kids out,” C.C. said, eyeing the row of balls in front of him.

  As the whistle blew, the rush of students began, both teams ran chaotically to the centre of the court, the other teams yelling and cheering everyone on. Ace stood up but didn’t run. He held his distance, standing behind the frontline of students that were created, C.C. playing a pivotal role in court trash talk.

  “SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT YOU PANSIES!” he roared, pounding a fist against his chest and bouncing on his heels like a boxer before the bell. The blue team hesitated. A ripple of uncertainty cutting through their rush. Some players slowed down, others laughed nervously, unsure if C.C. was joking or actually insane. His gamble paid off. When the balls scattered across the centre line, C.C. was one of the first to snatch one up, spinning backward and cackling like a maniac.

  “YEAH! That’s what I thought!” he shouted, brandishing the ball like a trophy.

  Ace barely heard him. His focus was locked elsewhere. On Jaxson. Every movement Jaxson made drew Ace’s eyes, the way his stance shifted, the subtle twitch in his shoulders before a throw, the calm, predatory confidence he carried even in the middle of chaos.

  Ace tracked him like prey. One wrong move, one second of hesitation, and he knew he’d be next. A direct hit waiting for his temple. His pulse drummed in his ears. He didn’t blink. Ace moved from side to side, dodging each ball that flew past him, each miss only aggravating Jaxson further. Ace watched as his team was cut from full size to only half in a matter of minutes. Ace’s blood rushed through his veins, his adrenaline spiking as the reality set in that even if he was the last one left, he couldn’t win. But he didn’t need to win. He just needed to eliminate Jaxson.

  “C.C.! Come here!” Ace called out, holding his eyes on Jaxson.

  “YO!” C.C. bounded over, hands on his knees.

  “I need you to run up to the front line with me. I’m going to loft my ball into the air as a distraction. The second it goes up, you go for Jaxson.”

  C.C.’s grin faltered. “What? That trade doesn’t make sense. If someone catches your ball, you’re out. It’s one for one.”

  “I don’t care.” Ace’s jaw tightened. “I’m not trying to win. I just want that ass-wipe out. He hasn’t been benched once. If I can take him off the court, that’s enough.”

  C.C. fell silent for a moment before nodding his head. “Alright then. Ready to take that cockknocker out?”

  Ace smiled, nodding his head at C.C. as he clutched his ball. C.C.’s agreement lit something in him; hope, and a thin line of steady determination. When Jaxson cocked his arm and released a fastball, Ace saw his chance. He shouted, “Now!” and sprinted toward the centre line with C.C. on his heel.

  Ace stopped dead at the line and launched his ball straight up, high and harmless, the kind of float that invites everyone to look up and reach. Heads tipped back across the court; hands rose, eyes tracking the arc. Everyone’s attention snapped skyward.

  C.C. didn’t hesitate. He planted his foot, twisted his hips, and threw with everything he had. The ball left his hand with a whistle sailing fast and low. There was a collective intake of breath as it connected with Jaxson’s midsection, the smack echoing in the gym.

  Silence slammed down. Then a rush of gasps, a few startled laughs, and shouts. Jaxson doubled over, hands clutching his groin, curses tearing from him. He sank to his knees, eyes wide and bloodshot. A single tear cut a bright line down his cheek as he glared up through narrowed lids at Ace, the look a hard, silent promise of payback.

  For a heartbeat, the whole gym froze. No one spoke. No one moved. Then a voice thundered across the court.

  “CATO CARTER! ACE! MY OFFICE… NOW!”

  Every head turned. A man in a dark grey and blue three-piece suit stood by the doors, hands on his hips, his glare slicing through the noise.

  Ace and C.C. stiffened. They looked at each other wide-eyed, caught between pride and dread before turning back toward the one man they’d hoped wouldn’t witness their victory.

  Principal Drayden.

  What's Principal Drayden Going To Do?