II: Spite and Suspicion

Caelan knew his face wouldn't swell as badly as a human’s face would, but he wanted to milk the situation as much as possible, to sell it to the Principal that he was the victim in this situation. That is why he had an ice pack pressed against a dull-throbbing cheek. Other than the faint bruise on his face, his ego was bruised as well.

He didn't even land a fucking punch on Ryker before the teacher swept in and yanked both of them into the Principal's office. The Principal seemed to have done the drill too many times to miss a beat when she saw them.

She phoned their parents and ensured that she kept their seats very far apart to ensure none could reach the other. But who was she kidding? She was allowing them to stay in the same room: two men with egos the size elephants, and addressing both of them at the same time. Shit was bound to happen.

“You tell this imbecile to put a leash on his fucking dog! How dare he hit my son!?” Magnus leaned forward, his face was red with anger, almost as red as the tie he was wearing.

“Mr. Magnus, please, refrain from using such language,” Mrs. Harriet, the Principal, rubbed the bridge of her nose, already worn out from an hour-long argument. She was sure she had gotten the lump on her nose because of these two.

“If your stupid son had kept his mouth shut then he wouldn't have gotten hit. How did you even train him? Why is he such a pussy? A little hit and he comes running to Daddy?” Dorian, Ryker's father, balled his hands into fists and mocked as he wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

“Did he say anything wrong? You're claiming a land that you don't even own when you can't even afford resources of your own, dependent fuck! I will end you, Dorian. I swear it. Caelan, let's go.” Magnus pushed the chair back and it clattered to the floor, he wiped his suit like there were germs from just being in the same room with Dorian.

“Mr. Magnus, we aren't done,” Mrs. Harriet called after him as he walked out of the room with grace. Caelan stood and drove his heel into Ryker's shin before suavely sliding out of the door.

“You little shit!” Ryker cursed through gritted teeth as he clutched his shin, glaring daggers at Caelan as he disappeared between the door.

~~~

“Bro, relax, any tighter and I won't be able to breathe.”

“What?” Ryker glanced at the yellow satin belt he was tying around Josh's waist.

“Fuck, sorry,” he left the hem like the material burned his skin. Josh dramatically exhaled as if he had built up pressure in his lungs for too long. He scanned the annoyed look on Ryker's face and sighed.

“Are you too preoccupied with your lover again?”

“Who the fuck are you referring to?” Ryker replied too quickly and Josh had a feeling Ryker knew whom he was referring to.

“Caelan,” Josh pitched in a sing-song voice.

“Say that again, I double dare you,” Ryker's tone dropped and his muscles tensed, he balled his hands into fists, his veins popping out. His face contracted and anger beamed from his eyes.

“Chill out, Jesus. Who pissed in your cereal?” Josh rolled his eyes while wrapping the bandage over his hand for practice.

“He just has a way of getting on my nerves.”

“Are you still strung up from the morning event? Didn't you punch him though? If there's anyone that should be a bitch right now, it's him. But he looks pretty chill to me,” Josh pointed out.

Ryker ignored him, “I wish coach would let me spar with him just once, I will pummel his face into the ground,” Ryker pounded his fist into his other palm.

“Yes, and I wonder why he doesn't. Forget about him, okay? Let's just practice. Spar with me?” Josh batted his lashes imitating a lady.

“Uh, never do that again,” Ryker shivered in disgust and walked toward the sparring mat, he took one last glance at Caelan at the extreme of the room where he and his stupid friends were, scrunched his face and took a fighting stance.

~~~

Ryker drove his fingers through his hair as the water slid down his back. It was a great relief after the stress of today, and by stress, he counted the interaction he had with Caelan early in the morning. He shook his head, wading off thoughts of Caelan. He didn’t want to think about how annoying or childish he was, he just wanted to shower.

He pressed his hands against the wall, letting the cold water nurse his aching muscles from sparring too hard today. He had stayed out on the mat so long that everyone had already showered by the time he was in the changing room. At least it would reduce the interaction he would have with that…He sighed.

“Stop thinking about him,” he chastised himself.

He had just finished rinsing the soap suds from the wall when he heard a clanging sound like someone had banged a pipe.

He whipped behind, shutting the jets of water off, “Hello?” He called out. “Is anyone there?” He grabbed the towel off the rack and wrapped it firmly around his waist, wiping the excess water from his face with his hands.

“I swear to the goddess, Josh, if that is you, I’ll bury your face in the lockers.”

Ryker stepped out of the shower, leaving wet footprints across the floor. He flung his face from east to west, there was no one in sight. He shrugged his shoulder and turned toward the changing room.

The lights at the end of the shower room burst and it startled Ryker who slammed himself into the doorpost.

“Fuck!” He massaged the spot he had hit, cast one last glare at the darkened corner and moved into the room, muttering strings of curses.

A few feet away, in that very dark corner, stood a being, a hood shielding its face, watching Ryker.