CHAPTER 31

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The next day, the fragile peace of Midtown High was shattered. The story of what had happened in the girls' restroom spread through the student body like wildfire, whispered in hallways and texted in classrooms. After a long period of quiet, someone had finally broken the unspoken rules Aidan Parker had established. And Aidan, in turn, had shown everyone the brutal consequences of that transgression. The memory of Doreen's swollen, defeated face was a very effective lesson.

Leo, or "Viper" as his friends called him, was practically buzzing with excitement when he heard the news. It meant things were finally getting interesting again. He'd been absent yesterday, a fact he now deeply regretted. He knew Aidan's methods; a "profound" lesson usually involved a week of the offender walking very, very carefully. But when he heard the initial fight was between girls, his excitement deflated. "Ah, man," he'd complained to his friends. "A girl fight? I couldn't have gotten involved anyway."

Early that morning, a furious Ms. Phoebe marched to Mr. Simmons' office, her knuckles rapping sharply on the door. Mr. Simmons, who had just arrived with his morning coffee, was surprised to see the new teacher looking so incensed.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Mr. Simmons?" she demanded, forgoing any pleasantries.

"I am."

"And is Aidan Parker your student?"

"Well, yes," Mr. Simmons replied, a sense of weary understanding beginning to dawn on him.

"Good," she seethed. "Then you need to know that your student, Aidan Parker, brutally assaulted another student in the women's toilet yesterday. I witnessed it myself. A student that arrogant, that violent, must be expelled! I'm calling his parents!"

Mr. Simmons sighed. "Ma'am, please, come in. Sit down. Let's talk about what happened." He opened the door to his office, and she followed him in, taking a seat opposite his desk. "Tea?" he offered politely.

After she had calmed down slightly, she recounted the entire sordid affair, from the locked door to Aidan's final, chilling words.

When she was finished, Mr. Simmons pondered for a moment. "...So, it seems, Ms. Phoebe, that you witnessed the end of the event, but perhaps not the beginning."

"He was beating a helpless girl! What more do I need to understand?" she shot back, indignant.

"You're a new teacher here, correct? This is your first year."

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Then let me ask you," Mr. Simmons continued patiently, "in your time here, have you noticed that our school is remarkably free of… unpleasantness? Fights? Open bullying?"

"Well, yes, until yesterday," she said angrily.

"And that's my point. You should have heard the rumors about Midtown High before you came here. Our academic scores are top-tier, but our main selling point, the reason so many parents are desperate to send their children here, is the learning environment. It's safe. It's orderly."

"...Yes," she admitted. That was one of the primary reasons she'd applied for the position.

"And do you know the reason for that safety and order?"

"The school and the teachers are well-managed, I assume," she said, frowning.

"No," Mr. Simmons said, a flicker of pride in his eyes. "It's because of my student, Aidan Parker."

"Impossible," she scoffed. "He's a violent thug."

"Ms. Phoebe," Siman said, his voice serious, "for children of this age, in a place this large, sometimes the only effective way to suppress violence... is with overwhelming, decisive violence. Aidan is respected by the teachers. He wins academic awards for this school every year. And he manages the student body with an iron fist. Under his unofficial regime, our enrollment applications have nearly doubled. He is a natural manager." He leaned back. "That's without even mentioning that he directed a hit movie and built the world's first true fighting robot. The boy is… exceptional."

"I know about those things," she conceded, "but that's no excuse for bullying."

"Our school appreciates teachers with a strong sense of justice," Mr. Simmons sighed. "But have you truly learned the whole truth of this matter? Have you spoken to the victim, Hannah James?"

Phoebe lowered her head, thinking. "...Alright," she finally said. "I will look into it further." She felt that perhaps she had been too one-sided. She thanked him and left, a seed of doubt now planted in her mind.

In the classroom before the first bell, Aidan was chatting with Erica. "So you sent Hannah home yesterday? Is she okay?"

"Yeah," Erica said. "She's just… timid. Doesn't like to talk much. Her full name is Hannah James."

"Then you must have had a boring walk."

Erica pouted. "Totally. Still, no one should bully her anymore. She'll probably open up eventually." She then looked at him with a surprised expression. "You know, you were kind of handsome yesterday. You usually seem so gentle."

Aidan frowned. "Isn't a gentle look handsome?"

Erica shook her head, explaining with the gravity of a philosopher. "From a girl's point of view, 'gentle' is good-looking. But that cold, focused look you had yesterday? That's handsome."

"So I should get into fights more often, so you can admire me?"

Erica actually considered it for a moment. "Nah, I'd get tired of watching it all day."

"You'd get tired of this face?" Aidan asked, his expression one of mock offense. "What a ridiculous—"

BANG! The classroom door was kicked open with such force that it slammed against the wall. A burly man in a police uniform stood framed in the doorway, his face purple with rage.

"Who is Aidan Parker?" he roared.

Behind him, Doreen, a thick bandage on her forehead, peeked into the room. Her eyes lit up when she saw Aidan. "Dad, that's him! beat him in front of me!" she shrieked, her young face twisted with viciousness.

"Boy, you're coming with me," the officer, Bryce, said, pulling out his baton and pointing it at Aidan.

"...Okay," Aidan said with a cold sneer. He stood up and calmly walked towards the front of the class.

As he did, something unexpected happened. The student he passed stood up. Then another. And another. In a wave of silent solidarity, the entire class rose to their feet and began to follow him.

"What are you doing?" Bryce demanded, a trace of panic in his eyes as he watched a silent army of teenagers advance behind Aidan. "My business is with him!"

They followed Aidan into the corridor, their footsteps a soft, ominous shuffling. Bryce took a step back, then another, quickly retreating down the hall. At the far end, another group of students appeared, blocking his escape, led by a grinning Leo. He was surrounded.

"What are you doing?" Bryce yelled, his voice trembling slightly. "This is an attack on a police officer! You'll all go to jail!"

"Shooting a gun in a school," Aidan said lightly, "I believe that carries a longer sentence." He whistled, a short, sharp sound.

A blue light flashed. A faint hiss-zing cut the air. Bryce stared dumbly as the pistol he had just drawn from his holster was neatly sliced in half, the barrel clattering uselessly to the floor.

"Brothers!" Leo grinned, running forward. "This bandit brought a pistol into our school!"

What followed was orchestrated chaos. The two groups of students surged forward, running and screaming as if in a panic. In the ensuing confusion, several large boys "accidentally" collided with Bryce, knocking him to the ground. His cries for help were lost in the din of panicked shouting.

"Help! There are terrorists in the school!" "Run! He's going to shoot!" "Ahhh! I want my mommy!"

Teachers, hearing the gunshot and the screams, rushed out, saw the chaos, and immediately called the police, reporting a school shooting and an armed intruder. The school went into lockdown.

Soon, the whine of sirens filled the air. Police cars surrounded the school. The lead officer, finding the campus eerily silent, felt a deep sense of dread. "Don't let a single child be hurt," he commanded, as his team began to cautiously sweep the grounds, moving toward the silent teaching building.

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