Marcus
I didn’t plan to hit him. I planned to walk into the gym, keep my head down, and survive practice without losing it. That was the plan.
Then Vel opened his mouth.
“She said you needed to learn your place,” he muttered, just loud enough for the others to hear. “Stacey’s words, not mine. Betty’s just a freak, man. We were doing you a favor.”
Then he grinned.
That smug little grin was all it took.
I didn’t even feel the first punch—I just watched it land, his head snapping sideways like a ragdoll. Blood sprayed the lockers in thick splatters. He staggered, coughing, his mouth already leaking red.
“Still want her?” he spat, blood slicking his teeth. “The girl whose underwear’s all over the uni?”
I roared.
I tackled him so hard we hit the ground like a dropped boulder. The tile cracked beneath us. Then I hit him. And hit him. Again. Again. My fists were fire. My vision was static. All I could think of was Betty—her shaking voice, her swollen eyes, the way she looked at me like I was the last person she could trust.
He broke that.
He broke her.
And I was going to break him.
His nose crunched under my fist. His lip split open. My hands were soaked in blood—his and probably mine. His arm bent the wrong way when he tried to block another hit. He screamed, high-pitched, helpless.
“Say her name again,” I growled. “Say it.”
He didn’t.
He couldn’t.
Then came another voice.
“Marcus, STOP!”
Stacey. Rushing in with Kate, her heels slipping in the blood. Her scream cracked like glass.
She threw herself at me, clawing at my arms. “This isn’t you! You’re not a monster—please!”
I didn’t stop until she grabbed my wrist with both hands.
I froze, panting, fists trembling.
“Why did you do this?” I said, my voice low and shaking.
“I made Vel help me!” she sobbed. “I asked him to take your phone. I knew Betty had stuff on there—she was obsessed, Marcus, it was weird! I just wanted to show you what she was really like - the ugly braceface taling ugly videos. You were losing yourself over her. I thought you’d thank me.”
Kate stood silent, hugging herself like she’d seen a ghost.
“She’s not one of us,” Stacey said, voice breaking. “She’s not worth your time. You forget who you are around her.”
“You’re right,” I said slowly. “She makes me forget who I am.”
I looked down at Vel, barely conscious, choking on blood.
“And for once, that’s a good thing.”
Coach burst in, eyes sweeping over the carnage.
“Jesus Christ,” he gasped. “What did you do?”
He rushed to Vel’s side, shouting for towels, shouting for help. The gym was chaos.
“Mitchell, get out. Get out now. You’re suspended,” he barked. “Indefinitely.”
I didn’t argue.
I walked.
And waiting just outside, arms crossed, suit pristine, was my father.
He looked at me like I was something he’d scraped off his shoe.
“You unbelievable idiot,” he hissed. “You think beating a kid bloody helps anything? Do you even understand what this looks like? What it does to me?”
“He got what he deserved.”
“You just nuked your future. No scouts. No offers. No NBA. You’re a liability now.”
“Good,” I said.
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not your brand. Not your second chance. I’m not your legacy, Dad. I’m done.”
His mouth opened. Closed. Nothing.
I walked right past him.
And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care what he thought.
For the first time, I knew exactly who I was.