Page 68 of The Moment I Knew

“They ended up in the hospital. Nothing permanent,” he added quickly. “Broken nose. Concussion. Couple cracked ribs.” His mouth twitched. “Guess I aimed well.”

I didn’t laugh.

“The school called it excessive force.” His tone turned mocking on the last two words. “Said I escalated it beyond self-defense. They were going to expel me. Cops got involved. It was a whole thing.”

My heart was beating too fast now, but not from fear.

“What happened?” I asked softly.

“My parents freaked out about my ‘future,’” he said, air-quoting the word. “Didn’t care much about why it happened. Just cared that it happened. The school said they could keep it off my permanent record if I voluntarily transferred. No formal expulsion. Clean slate.”

He gave a humorless smile.

“So my parents called my aunt. She lives here. Next thing I know, I’m packing a bag.”

Just like that.

“Did they talk to you about it?” I asked.

He shrugged, but it wasn’t careless this time. It was tight. Controlled.

“Dad told me I embarrassed the family. Mom cried. They said this was an ‘opportunity to start fresh.’” He stared at the streetlights, his posture rigid, his jaw clenched. Then he gritted out, “Nobody said thank you.”

The words landed heavier than anything else he’d said.

“For helping Evan?” I asked quietly.

“For protecting him,” he corrected. “They just kept talking about how I should’ve walked away. How I should’ve gotten a teacher. Like that was an option.”

He huffed a humorless laugh.

“Evan tried to say something,” he added after a moment. “But he’s fourteen. Doesn’t carry much weight.”

The wind shifted, colder now. I realized I’d stepped a little closer to him without meaning to.

“So no,” he said finally. “I wasn’t in juvie.”

I let out a breath, only now realizing how relieved I was to hear the confirmation. I’d suspected for a while he wasn’t in juvie, but something in me relaxed at knowing the truth. Maybe because I was one of the few who actually knew the real reason he transferred here. Yes, it was because of a fight, but it was a fight to protect his little brother. It was a noble cause.

“And now everyone here just assumes I’m some delinquent who got kicked out,” he finished. “Which… I guess isn’t entirely wrong.”

My heart cracked slightly at the sad way he said it, like he was fully resigned to this untrue reputation everyone assumed of him. I turned fully toward him.

“It is wrong,” I said. His eyes flicked to mine, searching. “You defended your brother,” I continued. “Maybe you went too far. Fine. But you didn’t start it. You didn’t just decide to hurt someone for fun.”

He held my gaze, like he was trying to decide whether to believe me. “You don’t think I’m violent?” he asked.

I thought about it. About the pebbles against my window. The jacket on my shoulders. The way he’d refused to come inside.

“I think,” I said slowly, “that you care about people more than you’re supposed to.”

Something in his expression shifted. Softer. Unsteady.

“That’s not exactly a compliment,” he murmured.

“It is in my books.”

He stared at me for a beat, like he was trying to mull the words over in his mind. For a second, neither of us spoke, then he dipped his chin in a nod and faced toward the street again.