Five

A full month had passed since I started at Red Lodge High, and I was already drained.

Most of the student body were racist pricks, and while their comments stung, I never let it show. I'd also finally learned the name of the girl who'd tried to humiliate me in the cafeteria.

Margaux Dubois.

Her name was just as overly dramatic as she was.

Margaux and her circle took turns tormenting me every chance they got. I had to be increasingly careful, especially in PE.

Just last week in the locker room, I was two seconds away from taking off my trousers when a group of girls walked in.

If they saw what was between my legs, I'd probably be dragged out and burned at the stake. This town felt like it was stuck in the 1700s.

Currently, I was at basketball practice.

The coach looked like he'd swallowed a lemon when I showed up for tryouts, and he almost didn't let me on the court.

But, surprise, I made the team anyway. I just hadn't been put in an actual game.

Being a benchwarmer also gave me a perspective I didn't want.

The team gave me smug looks during every break, and the urge to wipe the grins off their faces grew stronger every day.

"Pass the ball here, Alvarez!" Michael yelled from across the court. He was one of the few teammates I could tolerate.

It was nice to know someone here didn't judge a person by the shade of their skin.

I forgot to mention that this school apparently didn't have a girl's basketball team for some unknown reason.

I drove toward him, ball in hand, when suddenly all the air was knocked out of my lungs. I hit the floor with a dull thunk.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there," Kevin's grating voice rang out. "I guess there isn't much difference between you and the floor. You should stay down there; it's where you belong."

I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the cheerleaders enter the gym.

"Mind if we watch?" Margaux asked with a smirk, popping a bubble with her gum.

"Not at all, ladies," Kevin responded, ogling them shamelessly. I scrunched my face in disgust.

"Shit, that was a hard fall. You okay?" Michael held out an arm. I took it, pulling myself up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered, though my head throbbed. I heard giggles from the cheer squad and rolled my eyes.

"Why are you treating this thing like a person, Michael?" Kevin laughed. "It doesn't deserve it."

"She is not an object, Kevin," Michael snapped, stepping into Kevin's space. "She's a human being. I don't get why you're being such a dick when all she's doing is existing."

Margaux scoffed from the bleachers. I raised a brow at her before turning back to the brewing storm.

Coach was nowhere to be found, and the rest of the team was starting to circle around.

"That's the problem!" Kevin shouted, jamming a finger into Michael's chest. "She exists! Her and her people are tainting the world, and I'm sick of looking at it."

The words stung like acid, but I kept my face like stone.

"Shut the fuck up," Michael warned, his breathing turning ragged.

"Yeah? Make me." Kevin was baiting him. He wanted Michael to throw the first punch so he could use his superior size to pulverize him.

"Michael, don't. He's not worth it," I said, stepping forward to pull him back.

"Listen to your pet, Michael," Kevin sneered. "It's finally barking some sense."

Michael's fist connected with Kevin's cheek before I could stop him.

The gym went silent as Kevin staggered back, a look of pure rage crossing his face.

"You bastard! You'll pay!" Kevin pounced, tackling Michael to the ground.

"Stop it!" I tried to move in, but two of Kevin's lackeys blocked my path.

"Where are you going with that mud-colored ass, Alvarez?" the one with the mohawk asked.

"To stop the fight, you dumbass," I snapped.

"Oh, she speaks," the one with dyed purple hair mused. "I wonder what else that mouth can do?"

"First of all, ew. Second, step aside or I'll do something I won't regret."

They laughed. "She thinks she's Supergirl."

"You asked for it," I muttered. I drove my fist into Mohawk's jaw, knocking him out cold. I shook my hand out as he crumpled. I turned to purple hair.

"Get out." He scurried off instantly.

I felt a gaze on me and looked up. Margaux had a look of genuine shock on her face, though she quickly masked it with her usual scowl.

I turned my attention back to the floor. "Kevin, stop."

"Fuck off, slave," Kevin spat.

That did it. I grabbed Kevin by the back of his jersey and tossed him off Michael like he weighed nothing.

Kevin scrambled up, his face beet-red.

"Aw, are you mad that a 'servant' touched your precious jersey?" I teased. "You look like you're about to pop a vein. Get a grip."

He lunged for my collar, screaming a rainfall of insults, but I tuned him out.

Michael landed another clean punch, sending Kevin to the floor just as a booming voice echoed through the gym.

"Jesus H. tap-dancing Christ! What is going on here?!"

Coach stood at the entrance, fuming.

The cheerleaders and the rest of the team vanished into the shadows, leaving Michael, Kevin, a semi-conscious Mohawk, and me.

"Principal's office. All of you. Now!"

The Principal sat behind her desk, looking between us and the bruised faces of Kevin and Mohawk.

"Alvarez, you haven't been here a semester and you're already in a brawl."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I didn't start it," I said.

"That's a lie!" Kevin shouted. "She started it. She's been aggressive all practice and I finally told her off."

"He's lying," Michael countered. "He was hurling racial slurs at her. I stood up for her and things escalated."

Principal Anderson sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm calling your parents. We're going to sit here until they arrive."

An hour later, the room was full. Marcus stood behind me, his arms crossed, his face a mask of professional stoicism. My father was still in LA, so Marcus was my proxy.

"I will be calm when that girl gets the punishment she deserves!" Kevin's mother shrieked, pointing at me. "Look at my son's face!"

"She knocked my Carl unconscious!" Mohawk's mother added. "She should be behind bars."

"Your sons were picking on a defenseless girl," Michael's mother retorted. "Look at her face, she's all bruised and bloodied."

Kevin's father sneered at me. "She's clearly not a 'defenseless girl,' Diana."

That we can agree on, asshole.

The bickering continued until Michael's father, Christopher, made a comment about Kevin's father's anatomy from their high school days.

I caught Marcus's eye; he was fighting a visible twitch in his jaw to keep from chuckling.

"Enough!" Principal Anderson yelled. "Alvarez, let's hear things from your side."

I told the truth. I told her about the names, the trips, and how I only hit Mohawk because he was blocking me from stopping a fight.

Kevin tried to maintain his lie, but he stuttered when Marcus pointed out that his injuries didn't match his story.

"His silence is enough for me," the Principal said.

Kevin, I'm disappointed. Two weeks suspension. Carl, one week. Remington and Michael, one week of detention for fighting on school grounds. You're Dismissed."

As we walked out, Kevin hissed, "This is all your fault, blackie."

I stopped. I'd had enough. "If you'd kept your mouth shut, we wouldn't be here. You're pathetic, thinking the world revolves around you because you're white. Grow a pair, Kevin."

He punched me in the face. I didn't think; I swung back.

"Ms. Alvarez!" Marcus barked, his grip on my bicep like a vice.

Kevin stumbled back, clutching his jaw where I'd managed to connect, a look of pure shock crossing his face.

I tried to reach forward again, but Michael grabbed my other arm, adding his weight to Marcus's to keep me grounded.

"Let me go!" I snarled, my vision tunneling on Kevin's smug, bloodied face.

"Yeah, listen to your handlers, Alvarez," Kevin spat, wiping a trail of red from his lip. "You're just a violent animal. I knew you'd show your true colors eventually."

"Oh, I'll show you an animal!" I yelled back, my voice breaking.

"Control yourself!" Marcus's voice was low and dangerous, the kind of tone that usually meant someone was about to get hurt.

He wasn't looking at me; he was staring directly at Kevin's father, who was watching the scene with a disgusted sneer.

"Get your son in the car, Mr. Levine. Now. Before I decide that my job description includes clearing the trash out of this parking lot."

Malcolm Levine's eyes widened slightly at the coldness in Marcus's tone. He grabbed Kevin by the shoulder, shoving him toward their SUV. "Get in the car, Kevin. She's not worth the paperwork."

Kevin threw one last glare over his shoulder, his eyes promising more trouble before slamming the door.

I watched the tires screech as the car pulled away, my heart thundering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "He gets on my last nerves!"

"I know," Michael said, squeezing my shoulder. "But sometimes, some people aren't worth it. I'll see you tomorrow."

Marcus threw an arm over my shoulder as we walked to my Camaro. "It took everything in me not to kick that kid so hard he'd be singing soprano for a month," he muttered, his voice low and serious.

"You and me both," I sighed.

"Let's get you home and into a shower. You look like hell." He gave my shoulder a firm, supportive squeeze.

"Screw you," I muttered, but I caught a glimpse of Margaux in my rearview mirror. She was just...watching. Then she drove off.