“Didn’t think they actually gave diplomas to losers.”

I barely had time to process the words before a shove nearly sent me off balance. My heart jumped to my throat, but before I could react, Andrew was already moving.

He stepped in front of me so fast I barely saw it happen, his body tense, his fists clenched. “Say that again,” he challenged, his voice steady but edged with warning.

The guy sneered. “Oh, what, gonna cry about it?”

Andrew didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw in an instant, the crack of the hit echoing over the microphone. Gasps and screams erupted from the crowd. The bully stumbled back, and suddenly, the whole graduation ceremony was thrown into chaos.

“Andrew!” I grabbed his arm, but he wasn’t done. The guy swung back, but Andrew ducked, shoving him hard enough to knock him into the podium. Teachers rushed toward us, the principal shouting over the noise.

“Get off the stage! Now!”

But Andrew didn’t budge until he turned to me, his eyes scanning my face, making sure I was okay. Then, with that same reckless grin I’d known since we were kids, he grabbed my hand.

“Come on, troublemaker,” he said, pulling me toward the stairs. “Detention’s this way.”

The principal was fuming, waiting for us in his office like we’d just set the school on fire. But as Andrew leaned back in his chair, a bruise already forming on his knuckles, he looked at me and winked.

“Worth it,” he muttered.