It was already dark by the time you found him.

Spencer sat on the edge of the old skate ramp behind the school, one arm draped over his knee, the other cradling the side of his face. His knuckles were bloodied. The right side of his jaw was beginning to swell, and there was a split just above his eyebrow.

“Spencer!” you rushed over, a bag from the chemist swinging in your hand. You dropped to your knees in front of him, your breath caught somewhere between worry and anger. “What the hell happened?”

He tried to grin. “You should see the other guy.”

“Seriously?”

Spencer winced when he moved his mouth. “It was nothing. Some dickhead was talking shit about you again. I told him to shut up. He didn’t.”