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‘I’m going to find Mr Petros,’ she says, smoothing down her oversized school dress.
Ignoring her, I head for the trees. I hear the fighting well before I see it, people shouting and cheering. When I step out into the clearing, I see everyone gathered in a giant circle. No one’s trying to stop them, which means every person there is a spectator. I squeeze my way through so I can see who’s fighting. It might sound crazy, but I swear I can feel Hunter’s energy before I lay eyes on him.
I still when I see him in the middle, Mason circling him. At least it appears to be an even fight. I flinch when Hunter lunges forwards and punches Mason in the face—not once but twice. Blood smears his teeth. That should be the end of it.
You hit him in the face, Hunter.
You drew blood.
You win.
But Mason’s stepping up for more, and Hunter looks like he’s just warming up. I’ve never seen violence in real life like this before—or even on TV, for that matter. It’s a lot. I should leave, but I don’t. I stand there watching, still and mute.
Hunter finally takes a step back from Mason and asks, ‘Are you done?’
Mason runs at him, preparing to tackle him to the ground. Hunter shoves him back, feet moving again and eyes trained on his opponent. Those eyes flick briefly in my direction, and his fists drop a few inches. Mason takes advantage of the distraction and throws a punch into Hunter’s stomach. It’s the only one he’s landed since I arrived—and I suspect it’s my fault.
Hunter has Mason on the ground a beat later, pressing a knee into his ribs. Mason covers his face with his arms while Hunter lays into him.
Just when I think I’m either going to faint or vomit, Mr Petros pushes through the crowd of students.
‘Hey!’ He pulls Hunter off Mason and shoves him back, jabbing a finger in the direction of the school. ‘Mr Trest’s office—now!’
I half expect Hunter to start punching him too, but he backs up, eyeing Mason before turning away. His blazing eyes are a startling shade of blue as they meet mine. His face is glistening with sweat, but there’s not one mark on it. I drop my gaze and move aside as he brushes past me and sets off for the principal’s office.
Students are dispersing like uncovered mice around me now. Donna was right. I should never have left the school grounds. I’m not a rule breaker. I’m having trouble looking away from a very pale and bloodied Mason, who’s now being helped to his feet.
‘I expected better from you, Annie,’ Mr Petros says, glancing in my direction.
That’s when I realise I’m the only student still standing there.
‘Sorry, sir.’ And I mean it. I’m sorry I left school grounds, sorry I stood idle while someone was hurt, and sorry for the relief I feel that Hunter walked away mostly unscathed.
Mason spits blood onto the ground and wipes angry tears off his cheeks.
‘Grab his shoe, would you?’ Mr Petros says, nodding towards the black runner lying a few feet away. I didn’t even see it come off.
I run to retrieve it, then follow a stern-faced Mr Petros and limping Mason all the way to the infirmary. Mason sinks down into the chair and hangs his head in his hands. Because I have no idea what he needs, I slide the sick bucket close to him, then place the discarded shoe beside it.
‘You can go,’ Mr Petros tells me.
I back out of the much too small room, almost colliding with the school nurse in the process. As I pass the principal’s office, I glimpse Hunter through the open door. My feet stop involuntarily when he looks in my direction, his expression completely unreadable.
‘Close the door,’ I hear Mr Trest say.
Hunter rises from his chair and walks slowly over, watching me the whole time. A moment later, the door clicks shut between us.
