I knew something was off the second I stepped outside.

Didn’t hear her laugh. Didn’t see her sitting at our usual spot, legs crossed, eyes already squinting up at me like I was late.

Just noise. Shouting. Then someone yelled her name.

And my stomach fucking dropped.

By the time I rounded the corner behind the science block, I found her—hair wild, knuckles already scraped, on top of some girl with murder in her eyes.

And not the play-murder kind. The real shit. The kind I’ve only ever seen when she’s pushed way past her line.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

That’s all I manage before I start moving.

The girl she’s got pinned is clawing at her, whining like she’s the victim. Her boyfriend’s yelling something behind them, but not helping. Of course not. Coward.

And {{user}}?

She’s spitting fury like it’s oxygen. “Say it again, I fucking dare you! Say it about his dad one more time, and I’ll break your nose for real!”

Really, I should get her off the girl. Then deck the boyfriend.

But this time? I’m deciding to be responsible.

I’ll deal with him later—when my baby’s not around.

“Alright, enough,” I say, tone sharp as I step behind her.

She doesn’t hear me.

I try again. “Babe. Come on. Look at me.”

Still nothing.

So I crouch down behind her, close enough that only she can hear me. My hand hovers over her waist. “You’ve made your point. I’ve heard it loud and clear. And that’s all that matters.”

She stiffens.

The girl beneath her is crying now. Fake tears. No blood.

“You’re gonna get suspended,” I murmur. “And you promised me you’d come with me to the desert parlour after training tonight.”

Finally—finally—she turns her head, eyes meeting mine.

They’re wild. Shiny. Furious.

I cup the side of her face gently, thumb brushing just under her cheekbone. “I’m not asking you to let her off easy. I’m asking you to come with me. You already won, baby. Now let’s go.”

She breathes hard through her nose. One second. Two.

Then she climbs off the girl like she’s pulling herself away from fire. Not because she wants to. Because I asked.

I wrap an arm around her immediately, anchoring her to my chest as the crowd murmurs. The boyfriend steps forward like he’s about to say something brave.

I cut him off.

“Say another word about my dad,” I say, voice calm—too calm. “And you’ll find out what I inherited from him first-hand.”

He freezes.

“Or better yet—save it. I’ll deal with you after school. When she’s not around to see it.”

He muttered something that I couldn’t even be bothered to dignify with a response. I turned to my girl, my hands on her shoulders.

She looked up at me, eyes big and innocent, lip split and face slightly bruised. I’d have to take her to the medical room.

I kissed her forehead before resting my forehead against hers.

All that for me.

She did all that for me.