“You haven’t messaged her back yet?” Sam shouted in shock, making me wince from our close proximity.

  “Can you be a bit louder? I think there are still some people at the back of the line who hadn’t quite heard you.” I replied sarcastically, with Sam at least having the wherewithal to look abashed by his behaviour.

  At the moment, we were both waiting in line once again in the school cafeteria, waiting for our lunch and being squished from both sides like sardines in a can. The smell of some kind of, what I believed to be stew, lingered in the air, the hint of some kind of mystery meat being the only ingredient I could decipher from the heavy stench slowly clogging my airways. Thankfully, I was able to have some breakfast that morning from the groceries I got. Meaning I wasn’t in desperate need to shovel down the gruel they gave us.

  “Sorry mate, but, I mean, come on! You finally got her number, through no action of your own might I add, and you haven't even sent her a single message. What’s the harm?”

  “The ‘harm’ as you put it is that I say something completely fucking stupid and look like a total moron, which is pretty fucking likely if my past interactions with her are anything to go by.”

  Sam released a loud sigh of exasperation at my response. “You know, for someone so brash, you can be such a wimp. Just man up and message her. The worst that can happen is she realises how annoying you can be. Something she was bound to figure out at some point anyway.”

  “For fucks sakes, fine! I’ll message her at the end of the day.“ I grumbled, more so he would drop the conversation than any actual desire to do so, which, going by the blank stare he gave me, he clearly knew.

  With that said, conversation continued quickly, the two of us light-heartedly chatting about inane topics, such as what happened in class or the recent gossip, something which still seemed to only be about me. There was no mention of what was discussed the night before, Sam knowing I had no desire to talk about it again so soon after our last talk. Of course, I knew that wouldn’t be the case forever, and soon it would have to be broached once more. If not just to talk about what I wanted to do in my last few months, a sobering topic if there was one.

  As we got our gruel and began walking with our plastic trays to the tables scattered around sporadically, I saw Sam’s face suddenly stretch into a mischievous smile, looking one step away from cackling madly. Before I could question why, and hopefully stop whatever it was he had planned, he quickly turned to the right and marched away, all but forcing me to increase my pace to hurry along after him.

  It was then I saw what his goal was, as directly in front of us on a small table to the side were two girls chatting together. One of them being Helen. Immediately, I attempted to grasp onto Sam's shirt, precariously balancing the flimsy tray with one hand and trying not to spill any of my stew onto the ground. Yet Sam took those few seconds I needed to balance the tray to increase his pace and stand directly in front of Helen and her friend. Whose attention was now firmly on us.

  “Hey there, ladies. We were just wondering if these seats were free?” Sam said with a charismatic smile.

  The girl to Helen's right couldn’t have looked more confused if she tried, with the bewilderment she was clearly feeling radiating outwards in droves. A fair reaction on account of the fact that neither Sam nor I had ever spoken a single word to her throughout the entire past three years of high school. Helen, on the other hand, was sporting a small smile on her lips as she looked towards me. A smile, I hoped, meant she was happy to see me.

  Before her friend was able to give a response, Helen quickly replied, “Sure, help yourself. The more the merrier I say.”

  Apparently, that was all Sam needed to hear as he immediately sat down with his food directly across from Helen’s friend, leaving only myself still standing. A part of me very much wanted to quickly run away and vacate the area, away from the possibility of any awkwardness or embarrassment this interaction would produce. Something that was highly likely with Sam also being present. Yet when Helen turned her gaze back towards me, I couldn’t find it in me to turn away, and so I made my way over and sat down beside Sam and in front of Helen.

  “Hey! The name’s Sam. I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced.” Sam said politely to the girl beside Helen with a charming smile.

  A smile that appeared to have no effect on her as she derisively snorted and replied. “Yeah, I know who you are, as does the rest of the entire year. You know, you and your buddy there have quite the reputation.”

  “All good I hope.”

  “Oh, of course, not a bad word between the both of you,” she remarked sarcastically with a grin before going back to eating.

  Before Sam could respond once more Helen quickly jumped in “Come on Susan, play nice now.” she said, giving Susan a glare that was promptly ignored.

  I sat there mutely, unable to comprehend how in the span of only a couple of minutes I ended up sitting across from Helen and eating lunch together. Helen must have felt my stare as she quickly flipped her head back in my direction, making eye contact. Frozen in shock and not knowing what to say, I quickly, and stupidly, said the first thing that came to mind.

  “How's the, uh… food?” I asked nervously.

  The moment the words left my mouth I immediately wanted the ground to swallow me up, preferably forever for asking such a dumb question. My face burned so bright I was surprised I wasn’t setting things in my surroundings alight. At my question, Sam turned his head away to the side, his shoulders jumping up and down erratically while the only noise able to be heard was that of quiet snickering. After looking stunned at my choice of question, something which I really couldn’t blame her for, Helen replied.

  “It's fantastic, couldn’t have asked for more. Truly Michelin-star-level quality. How about yours?” The pretentious expression she wore brought a smile to my face, despite the ball of nerves I currently was. The relief I felt seeing that Helen hadn’t thought my awkwardness weird was immense.

  Letting out a secret sigh, I answered. “Couldn’t be better, truly the chef who made this food must be a one of a kind genius. Truly God's gift to food.” I proclaimed passionately, earning a laugh from Helen and even a small chuckle from Susan. Out of sight of the two girls, Sam gave me a wink and flashed me a quick thumbs up. An action that both helped to calm my racing heart and caused my face to once again burn bright red for a moment.

  As I got more comfortable and no longer seemed to be about to pass out at any second, conversation flowed well between us, with plenty of jokes and laughter being shared. I quickly learnt that if I had thought Sam was the most sarcastic person I knew, Susan beat such an assumption by a country mile, constantly throwing sarcastic retorts towards Sam that left me in a never-ending state of laughter. Helen on the other hand seemed to find immense joy in trying to wind up Susan as much as possible to the other girls' chagrin. Something which seemed especially easy while in front of Sam and I.

  “I swear to god Helen, you say one more word and I’m going to drown you in this abomination of a stew!” Susan shouted in frustration.

  “Now Susan, no need to be embarrassed. I’m sure there's many people who are still afraid of-” Helen said in a false caring tone before swiftly being interrupted with a palm forcefully placed over her mouth and Susan bellowing out a loud yell to drown out whatever Helen was trying to muffle out.

  While this did succeed in stopping whatever it was Helen was going to say, it did end up drawing virtually the entire cafeteria's attention to the two girls messing around and, in extension, both Sam and myself as well. Luckily, this attention only lasted a couple seconds before people slowly started to look away, going back to whatever it was that they were doing before. A sight that left me sighing in relief, wanting to have as little attention on me as humanly possible. Unfortunately, it seemed I sighed a bit too soon.

  “Adam! It’s so good to see you again! Though I am a bit surprised to see you so soon. Hope you're not too badly hurt after what happened last time.” A smug voice I knew far too well rang out from somewhere behind me.

  Immediately, a feeling of annoyance started to bubble within me as I turned around to once more come face to face with Matthew and his buddies standing a few feet away looking impossibly smug. All of them except Steven, who was glowering at me with his narrow pinprick eyes and his chest heaving in strength. As I looked at Matthew and his mate’s cocky and arrogant demeanours, something felt strange, something that took a few seconds for me to figure out what it was. When I did, however, I was left in a state of complete surprise. I wasn’t afraid.

  That sense of constant fear and dread I used to feel before whenever I was faced with a potential confrontation with Matthew and his goons was no longer there. At least not to the levels it was before. Now, that wasn’t to say that I abruptly thought I could beat Matthew in a fight; the odds of that were just as abysmally low as they were before. Instead, it was simply the fact that the idea of sustaining a few bruises and cuts no longer seemed as world-ending as it once did. I was soon going to be dead. Compared to that, Matthew’s playground taunts and juvenile bullying seem childish in comparison. After all, in the end, nothing they said or did was going to change that I would soon be dead.

  Lost in my introspection, Matthew, seeing no response and unable to see any glimpses of fear that could usually be found on my face, started to grow irritated. The smug expression promptly fell from his face at the apparent slight I gave him as he stormed closer towards me, bringing my attention back to the present.

  “Oi! Did you not hear me prick? Did I end up giving you brain damage or something? That wouldn’t surprise me, not with how hard I dropped your ass.” He sneered derisively, laughing along with his mates at his juvenile insult.

  Feeling a sense of deja-vu and seeing the way this situation was going to go, I came to a decision. A foolish decision but a decision nonetheless. Not wanting to continue trading barbs like last time, I suddenly stood up, to the surprise of everyone watching and faced Matthew.

  “Just shut up dickhead. If you want to fight let’s just fucking fight. I can’t be arsed hearing your whiny little voice even a second longer.” I said, speaking with a confidence I for once wasn’t faking.

  I wasn’t sure where this sudden assertiveness came from. Whether it was because Helen was nearby and I didn’t want to appear weak, knowing how futile this was in the grand scheme of things or the fact that I just really wanted to pay back Matthew for the punch he gave me before, I didn’t know. However, in the end, such a reason didn’t matter. What did was the fact that I said it, and I was past the point of no return.

  It was clear however as I stood there that I wasn’t the only one surprised with what I said, Sam and Matthew both having expressions of complete bewilderment on their faces at my sudden aggression. An expression most people in the cafeteria who heard what I said seemed to possess as well. That is everyone besides Susan who, for some reason, was sporting a terrifying smile that sent shivers down my spine. It was only later on that I learnt that Susan was a fighting maniac who loved more than anything to watch fights of any kind.

  “What the fuck are you doing!?” Sam suddenly frantically whispered from my side. A whisper I ignored as I continued to stare down Matthew.

  Once Matthew finally processed what I had said, his face lit up. However, not in anger or rage like I had expected but with unbridled joy, looking as if Christmas had come early. He even turned to his friends as if to make sure that they heard the same thing. After realising that I really did say what I said, he faced back towards me and closed the already small distance between us, leaving no more than a couple feet of space. As he did so everyone around us began filling the cafeteria with a cacophony of jeers and shouts. All so eager to see yet another fight so soon after the last.

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  “Well, if you're so eager to have the absolute shit kicked out of you again, who am I to deny you such a privilege.”

  “Big words for the bloke that was only able to beat me when I was already on death's door. '' I spat, smirking at the ironic phrasing that only Sam and I would truly understand.

  “Then let's go!” With that, he stepped back and drew his arms up as his goons meandered back, merging with the onlooking crowd.

  I gave one last look to the people behind me, Sam with his teeth clenched and legs taut, ready to jump in at a moment's notice. Susan who held an excited gleam in her eyes and Helen who was biting her lower lip and looking at me with a worried expression. I flashed what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile before turning around and raising my fists too, flinching in pain as I clenched my right fist and realised that a good night's sleep wasn’t enough to get rid of all the bruises and scrapes that peppered said hand.

  The moment we were in position the tension around us rose, everyone waiting with bated breath for the first punch to be thrown. Remembering what had happened last time, and not wanting to be put on the back foot, I immediately took the lead, stepping forward and throwing the first punch. My left hook flew cleanly towards him, incomparable to the wild flail of a punch I threw last time in my panicked and half-delirious state.

  Clearly not expecting me to throw the first punch, Matthew stood in shock, only reacting once my punch was less than a foot away. Unfortunately, that was still enough time for him to madly backpedal away to safety. However, seeing I had him panicked, I kept up the pressure, charging forward and throwing out an array of jabs, straights and hooks. As I did so, I could feel as my punches got sharper and cleaner the more the fight progressed, the years I spent fighting as a child all coming back to me. Eventually, after continuously blocking and dodging every punch I threw, whether it was skill or just plain luck, one of them finally managed to slip through Matthew’s defence. A loud groan could be heard as my fist smashed into his nose with as much force as I could manage, causing him to fall to the ground with a heavy thump.

  In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Matthew placed his hand up to his nose and saw the small droplets of crimson blood now upon it. The audience soon exploded into a cacophony of noise, not having expected the fight to have gone in such a direction. I looked around, high on adrenaline, and caught a glimpse of Helen and Sam's reaction from behind me. Reactions that left me almost bursting into laughter upon first glance. The way their eyebrows reached the ceiling and their mouths dropped to the floor was one of the funniest things I had seen in a while.

  As I brought my attention back to the fight, I immediately wanted to take advantage of this sudden lull, to keep the upper hand and continue applying the pressure. But before I could, I saw the way Matthew's eyes changed. No longer did he appear so easygoing and flippant. No, that had all been replaced with a steely seriousness reflected in his eyes and a burning anger shown in the heaving of his chest and the muted growls he released.

  Before I had any chance to react, he lunged towards me at a frightening pace, slamming one of his powerful fists into my sternum and causing my entire body to cave in on itself. It felt as if I had just been hit by a wrecking ball. My ribs creaked and groaned, feeling on the verge of snapping. My lungs squashed flat with all air forced out with a ragged wheeze. My chest exploded in pain. Yet Matthew didn’t stop, continuing to pile on the punches wherever he could: stomach, chest, arms, face, no area was safe from his onslaught. Every cell in my body screamed for mercy, a mercy I was not given.

  My arms were up in a vague attempt of defence, a defence that was continuously pushed aside, treated as more of a nuisance than an actual guard. Fighting through the pain and unsure what to do next, I did my best to look up and face him, seeing that god-forsaken smirk painted on his face, curled in unsaid mockery and contempt.

  The moment I saw that smirk, it was like I was teleported back through the last few years. How Matthew would always show that irritating smirk as he mocked, humiliated and belittled me whenever he had the chance. I thought about how much I despised him, how he made my life miserable at every chance he got. And then I thought of how he was punished. A big house, loving parents, everyone at school treating him as if he was a fucking king!

  And what about myself? A rundown shack for a home. A dad I rarely saw nor talked to and an entire student body treating me like an outcast. But was that enough? No. Despite wanting to live a peaceful life I now found myself sentenced to fucking death before I even reached adulthood! While Matthew got to do whatever the fuck they wanted.

  In the face of such injustice, my brain was suddenly overrun with an onset of rabid anger, a fiery cascade of rage all directed towards Matthew and that irksome smirk. Ignoring the excruciating pain I felt and the rain of fists still being thrown my way, I all but threw myself forward, regardless of the protests my quivering muscles and lungs made, and collided head-first into Matthew's stomach. An exclaimed gasp was all I heard before I felt myself fall to the floor along with Matthew, landing on top of his collapsed form.

  Having learnt my lesson, without giving him time to react as he lay down puzzled, I sat upon his chest, pinning his upper arms to the floor as tightly as possible and began thrashing my arms against him. No technique or skill, just pure, uncontrolled strength. I watched with maddened glee as my fists pummelled against his face, making him hiss and wince in pain with every punch. The crunching of bones and the pitiful wails he released were like music to my ears, doing nothing more than to spur me on.

  Finally, after close to a minute of pummeling, his body, which had been writhing around tirelessly in a vain attempt to escape, started to slow, along with the strength and speed of his thrashing and swings. His moans became more and more frail and scared with each passing second, almost sounding childlike in nature. Yet, even still, I didn't stop.

  My fists never faltered, striking true with every punch. Smashing away any meagre resistance Matthew still had until there was simply no more defence to be seen. Still, I continued attacking. Even as his body stilled, his whines ceased, and his face became blank, no longer scrunched up in pain and agony, I continued to throw punch after punch. I was too overcome in my anger to stop, my anger at Matthew, my situation, everything, and so I let it out the only way I could, revelling in the sense of power and control I felt. Something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  The audience around us, which until this point had been filled with a constant stream of cheers and shouts, started to lessen. The cheering quickly replaced with panicked murmurs as they all looked at one another, wondering if someone should try to intervene before anything went too far. None of them did. And so I continued, my hands a bright red at this point, covered in Matthew’s viscous blood, hiding the bruising and swelling that were already there. However, it was then, suddenly out of nowhere, that I felt a pair of thick arms firmly grasp me from behind, forcefully yanking me away from the now-unconscious Matthew.

  Still lost in the anger-filled haze clouding my mind, I thrashed against the new restraints around like a deranged animal. Whether that was to escape or to continue attacking Matthew, I wasn’t sure. At that point I was moving only on instincts, all rational thought having been lost. It was only when I heard the familiar voice of Sam behind me, telling me, begging me, to stop and to calm down, that my actions started to cease.

  The moment I finally came to a stop all the energy I possessed disappeared. Replaced with an onset of deep exhaustion that permeated into my lead-filled bones and seemed to physically weigh me down. My lungs burnt with every shallow breath I took, putting me on the verge of passing out. When I looked behind me at Sam, who still had his arms caged around me in his embrace, I saw him looking at me with no small amount of trepidation and worry.

  “Adam? You alright pal?” He asked nervously.

  I didn’t respond, too busy taking in what happened. It felt as if I had been possessed, as if I hadn’t been in control. I looked around at the sea of faces surrounding and staring at me. I was used to people staring, staring in disgust, in ridicule, but never as they were now, in fear. The way their wide eyes would look down wherever we made eye contact. How they inched away from me whenever I faced in their direction. I spotted Steven standing near the front, not too far away, his eyes stuck to the floor, away from my own. It was at that moment that I felt a sense of power I had never felt before. And I loved it.

  I remembered the feeling of being on top of Matthew, the pleading gaze he held as he was at my mercy for a change, powerless to stop me and resigned to the continued attack I unleashed. Thinking of Matthew I looked over to see his body still unmoving on the floor. His face was caked in an obscene amount of blood and, if not for the slight rising of his chest, looking dead to the world.

  “Fucking hell! Did I really do that?” I asked in surprise, an undertone of giddiness to my voice as I looked at the damage I was able to do. Before Sam could respond, loud yelling could be heard coming from the entrance of the cafeteria.

  “What in the bloody hell is going on? All of you move! Move!” Bellowed a loud and authoritative voice. A voice I recognised as belonging to Mr. Lycett, a prominent teacher at the school. And true to my thoughts, only a couple seconds later, a heavy-set man plodded into view, barreling through the onlooking crowd and into the open space where the fight had taken place. Seeing the current situation, his face, which at that point had been scrunched up in a permanent scowl accompanied by a bright red sheen and a scattering of sweat along his brow, turned to one of horror as he saw the state of Matthew lying on the floor.

  “Dear God! What the hell happened here!” he yelled in panic, his voice an earth-shaking howl able to be heard for miles.

  Everyone's eyes turned to me, yet not one of them said a word. A small smile appeared on my face at the palpable fear and tension every student was showing; the feeling of power I felt like a drug I could never get enough of. Mr. Lycett followed their gaze, turning in my direction, an angry and stern expression plastered on his face.

  “Were you involved in this?” He asked loudly. A stupid question considering the state I was in. My fists and clothing were coated in blood and a variety of bruises along my face were already swelling in size.

  “Yes sir. We had a fight.” I replied calmly, stating the obvious.

  “I can see that!”

  “Then maybe don’t ask such stupid questions.” I said dismissively, too high on adrenaline from finally beating Matthew to care about the consequences of what I said.

  Mr. Lycett stilled, his massive frame no longer wobbling in motion and accompanying his exaggerated movements as he processed what I had said. A couple of seconds later his face went an even brighter red, if that was possible. His breathing became ragged and his chest heaved as he worked himself into a fit of anger.

  “Get up now boy! You're coming with me to the headmistress!”

  Despite the apparent threat, I felt nothing, my emotions in a state of complete disarray. I simply stood up and waited for Mr. Lycee’s instructions, ignoring the continued stares of everyone around. I looked at Sam, who was still kneeling on the floor from where he had subdued me, and flashed him a reassuring smile. Or at least my best attempt at one.

  While looking at Sam I remembered Helen. I quickly turned around and spotted her, along with Susan, only a short distance away. Yet the moment I saw her face, it was as if I had swallowed a pit of ice. All the excitement, glee and adrenaline I felt were extinguished in an instant as I witnessed her expression of disgust and horror as she gazed upon me. My blood ran cold. My cockiness and exuberance over victory vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving me in a state of complete exhaustion as the adrenaline fled my system.

  It was in this state that I was shepherded along out of the cafeteria and towards the headmistress’s office by Mr. Lycee, only snapping from my stupor as we reached the end of the final corridor and came to a stop, arriving at her office. Mr. Lycee stepped up to knock on the door. The loud banging of his meaty fist rang down the desolate hallway I was in.

  We waited by the door for over a minute in silence. Without the euphoric feeling of victory clouding my mind, I was finally able to think about the consequences of my actions. My mind was suddenly filled with the various punishments I could be given. Ranging from detention all the way to criminal charges for assault. I hadn’t a clue what it would be.

  Suddenly, a woman's voice, cold and authoritative, drifted through the door in front. “Come in.”

  “Stand over there and don’t you dare move!” Mr. Lycee ordered in a voice dipped in loathing as he pointed along the side of the wall before quickly entering the door and shutting it firmly behind him.

  As I shuffled next to the door I did my best to overhear what was being said. Unfortunately, only the sound of muffled murmurings could be heard, with Mr. Lycee’s murmuring getting progressively louder as the conversation went on. What I expected to be only a short talk before I was forced into the conversation ended up lasting longer and longer, going from one minute to five, five minutes to ten, ten minutes to thirty.

  After almost an hour of waiting my legs were begging for rest, the muscles aching and spasming with every second they held my tired body up. I wondered whether this was due to exhaustion from the fight or my debilitating condition. Either way, I soon began wheezing in struggle as the minutes continued to pass slowly. Throughout my wait, the once-barren corridors soon sprung to life with students charging past on their way to class as the lunch break ended, each of them giving me and my blood-soaked figure a multitude of pointed stares and whispers. Just as I felt my patience thinning and thought I was about to collapse into a heap on the floor, the door finally opened. The voice of the stern woman I heard before drifting out again.

  “Mr. Collins. You may enter now.”

  A sense of relief and trepidation hit me all at once, relief that I would hopefully be given a chance to sit down and trepidation over what this conversion would entail. Thankfully, over the past hour, with not much else to do, I had the chance to calm down and truly consider what my punishment could be. I realised it would most likely be only a few detentions or a suspension at worst. After all, we both agreed to the fight, and we were both injured, so I doubted I could be charged with anything serious like assault, regardless of the damage I did. With those thoughts in mind, I squared my shoulders, held my head high, took a deep breath, or as deep of a breath as I could manage, and walked into the headmistress’s office.