CHAPTER 30

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The final bell had barely finished echoing through the halls when Erica came sprinting up to Aidan, her face flushed and her breathing ragged from the run.

"Aidan!" she gasped, bending over and clutching her knees. "It's Doreen! She's at it again. She and her cronies, they dragged Hannah, the transfer student, into the girls' restroom by the gym!"

Aidan's expression, which had been relaxed, hardened into a flat, unreadable mask. "Physical confrontation," he mused aloud as they started walking, his tone one of detached, analytical curiosity. "An inefficient method. I thought your gender preferred cold violence—social alienation, spreading rumors. Far more effective." He had no interest in policing that kind of social warfare. But this was a blatant, physical transgression. An ugly problem that required a simple solution.

"You ask me how I know this stuff?" Erica shot back, rolling her eyes.

"Fair point."

They arrived at the restroom to find a large crowd of students huddled around the door, whispering excitedly. Erica, acting as his herald, pushed through them. "Move it, people. Get out of the way."

"Why did Erica bring Aidan Parker here?" someone asked.

"To deal with Doreen, obviously!" another student, who had clearly seen Doreen's work before, replied with a grin. "She's so screwed."

"He even gets involved in our business?" a newly arrived freshman asked, surprised.

"He gets involved in all bullying incidents at this school," an upperclassman explained. "It's because of him that you don't see fights in the hallways anymore. He came here two years ago, and everything changed."

Erica tried the handle. "It's locked from the inside."

"Stand back," Aidan said quietly. The crowd fell silent as he raised his foot. The jump shoes he wore activated with a soft hum. With a single, powerful kick, the door exploded inward off its hinges with a deafening CRACK.

Inside, Doreen, her hand raised to strike again, was slammed by the heavy door, sending her sprawling to the floor. Her two cronies stared, frozen in terror, at the figure in the ruined doorway. In the far corner, Hannah was curled into a ball, her clothes disheveled, her face covered in the bright red prints of slaps.

Aidan walked in, knelt, and gently brushed the hair from her face. "Hannah?" he said softly.

Doreen scrambled to her feet. "Parker," she snarled, emboldened by the thought of her father's protection. "I advise you not to mind your own business. My father is back."

"You should be afraid," Aidan said without looking at her, as he helped Hannah up. "Erica, take care of her." He handed Hannah over, then finally turned to Doreen. "You have two options," he stated, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Kneel and apologize to her. Or… she can have the satisfaction of slapping you herself. Choose."

"Impossible!" Doreen shrieked.

CRACK! The sound of the slap echoed off the bathroom tiles. Doreen staggered, clutching her face in disbelief.

"How about now?" he asked, his expression indifferent. "Do you agree to apologize?"

"No… but… I can!" she stammered.

CRACK! Another slap. "And now?"

"Don't…"

CRACK! CRACK!

After his arm grew tired, he finally stopped. He looked at Doreen, whose face was now a swollen, weeping mess. "And now?"

Tears streamed down her face, but seeing his hand raise again, she choked them back. She stumbled over to Hannah. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Please forgive me."

"Kneel," Aidan said lightly, folding his arms. "And you two," he glanced at her terrified cronies. "This is your first time. Apologize sincerely. No kneeling required." They rushed to Hannah, bowing and begging for forgiveness.

At that moment, a teacher's voice cut through the commotion outside. "What are you all doing? Why are you blocking the girls' restroom?" A female teacher with glasses pushed her way through the crowd.

"The door is broken, miss," a boy from the crowd said smoothly. "We're just helping to repair it. Someone's fixing it inside, it'll be fine."

"What the hell is going on in there?" she said, feeling something was wrong and insisting on breaking in. "Oh, it's really being repaired..." the boy stammered, but the teacher was worried and pushed past him.

Doreen's eyes flashed with a venomous hope. "TEACHER!" she screamed from inside. "HELP! SOMEONE IS TRYING TO RAPE ME!"

The teacher, now truly alarmed, shoved her way inside and froze. The scene made no sense. All but one of the students were female. And in the middle of the room was a girl whose head was so swollen it looked like a grotesque parody.

Aidan's eyes flashed with impatience. He strode over to Doreen and kicked the back of her legs out from under her, sending her crashing to her knees.

"Hey! Classmate, what are you doing!" the teacher shouted, moving to intervene.

Aidan ignored her. He grabbed Doreen's head and slammed it onto the tiled floor. Once. Twice. Three times. The dull, sickening thuds echoed in the silent room. He let go.

"Teacher," Aidan said, turning to the frightened woman with a pleasant smile. "I'm teaching this student a practical lesson on the experience of being bullied. I believe she now has a profound understanding of the subject." He looked at Doreen's cronies. "Isn't that right?" They nodded frantically.

"What is your name?" the teacher demanded, pointing an angry, shaking finger at him. "I'm going to call your parents."

"My head teacher is Mr. Simmons," Aidan said calmly. "Feel free to ask him about my situation." He turned to leave. "Erica, let's go."

Erica followed, supporting a slightly recovered Hannah. The teacher went outside, intending to ask for help to carry Doreen, but no one was willing to step forward. They just looked at her coldly. Doreen's own friends had already vanished. Finally, Doreen, regaining her senses, pushed the teacher away and staggered out on her own, her face a bloody, swollen mess.

Later, on the playground, Erica helped Hannah adjust her torn clothing. "Hey," she said, turning to Aidan and holding out her hand. "Take your clothes off."

"Don't you have a jacket? Why use mine?" Aidan asked suspiciously.

"I only have one nice shirt. If I take it off, I'm left in my underwear."

"And the problem is?" Aidan retorted with a smirk. "There's no difference between your upper body and a boy's anyway."

"Why you—!" Erica lunged at him, infuriated, and started tugging at his jacket. "You're blind if you can't see the difference!"

Watching them bicker, a genuine, watery smile touched Hannah's lips for the first time. She looked at the two of them—so fierce, so protective, so normal—and felt a warmth and envy she had never known.

"Here," Erica said, finally wrestling the jacket off Aidan and putting it around Hannah's shoulders. "That bastard is a man. Don't worry if he gets cold."

"By the way," Aidan asked, rubbing his now-bare arms. "Where do you live, Hannah?"

"Hawthorne Street," she said softly.

Aidan looked at Erica. "Looks like she's on your way."

"Well, you don't have to bother," Hannah said quickly, feeling like she'd been enough of a burden. "I can get home by myself."

Aidan and Erica just looked at each other and smiled. In the end, Erica walked her all the way home.