It was an hour earlier, morning still cold enough to see your breath. Brookhaven was quiet in that fake way — like the city was holding its breath before the first punch.
Bianca walked alone. Bag slung over one shoulder, glasses pushed up, orange hair tied back. She kept her eyes forward. Rule #1 in Brookhaven: don't look like prey.
Then she heard it.
A girl's voice. Small. "I don't have it."
Three Blue High jackets. Cornered against a brick wall.
In the middle of them: a girl with sand-blonde hair. Back pressed to the bricks, hands clenched at her sides. She wasn't crying. She was just… shrinking. Like if she made herself small enough, they'd forget she existed.
One of the boys reached out, fingers grabbing for her collar.
Bianca didn't think. She moved.
She stepped in, caught his wrist mid-air, twisted. Used his own momentum. Over her shoulder he went.
_THUD._
Back slammed into concrete. Air left his lungs in a wet gasp.
"Three boys ganging up on one girl doesn't seem very fair," Bianca said. Her voice was even. Calm. But her eyes weren't.
"That's because it wasn't supposed to be," one of the remaining two muttered. They started circling, closing in.
Bianca helped the blonde girl up with one hand. Didn't look at her. Didn't break eye contact with the thugs. With her other hand she scooped dirt off the curb.
"May, stay behind me," she said low. She didn't know the girl's name yet. It just fit.
She threw the dirt.
A cloud hit their faces. They reeled back, coughing, eyes watering.
Bianca moved in. Grabbed the nearest two by their jacket collars. Slammed their heads together.
_CRACK._
Both dropped. Out cold before they hit the ground.
"Well. That's a crisis averted," Bianca said, dusting her hands off like she'd just finished a chore. Then she turned to the girl.
"Are you okay?"
The girl looked up. Sand-blonde hair stuck to her cheek with sweat. Eyes wide, brown, unsure if she should trust this. Her voice came out small, almost swallowed by the street noise. "Y-yes. Thank you very much."
"Sure. After all, girls gotta stick together," Bianca said, and her usual smile slipped back in. Warm. Grounded. The kind of smile that made you believe the fight was already over.
The girl — May — blinked at her. Surprised. Like nobody had said that to her before. She nodded once, slow.
They started walking. Side by side. Bianca matched her pace, didn't crowd her with questions. For the first two blocks May said almost nothing. Just "yes" and "no" and one "I'm late for class."
But Brookhaven does things to people. Ten minutes in, May's shoulders weren't up by her ears anymore. She even muttered, "Thanks. Again," when Bianca stepped between her and a group of guys whistling from a car.
Bianca grinned. "See? Not so scary once you've got backup."
May didn't smile back. Not yet. But she did glance at Bianca sideways. Like she was memorizing her.
"Bianca Burnett," Bianca said, offering a hand. "1C. Annoyingly friendly."
May hesitated, then shook it. Her grip was light. "May. 1B. Annoyingly invisible."
Bianca snorted. "Well, not to me you aren't."
That got the smallest twitch at the corner of May's mouth. Almost a smile. Bianca filed it away like a win.
They kept walking. Bianca was already planning — introduce her to Payal, maybe drag her to lunch with the group. Quiet girl in 1B with no friends? Not on Bianca's watch.
Then the sound hit them. Engine roar. High. Aggressive.
Bianca's head snapped up. A motorcycle shot down the street, weaving between cars. Rider leaning low. In his hand: a metal bat.
"Look out!"
Bianca grabbed May's arm and yanked. They hit the pavement and rolled. Scraped knees. Bianca was up in half a second, glasses crooked, eyes sharp. She stepped in front of May before May could even get her bearings.
The bike skidded to a stop inches from them. Exhaust hit Bianca's face.
"Are you Blue High guys insane? You could've killed someone," Bianca snapped. She shoved her glasses back up with one finger. Glaring.
The guy swung a leg off the bike. Brown textured hair, gold grill flashing when he smirked. A thin stitch tattoo cut across his cheek like someone sewed his face shut and regretted it.
"That was the plan, Orange," he said. His laugh came next. Loud. Nasal. The kind that dug under your skin on purpose. He knew it was annoying. That was the point. It worked — Bianca's jaw tightened.
"It's been a while since I wanted to beat someone this much," Bianca muttered. A smile, but not friendly. Irritated. Dangerous. "May, hide."
She stepped forward. Hands loose at her sides. Stance low.
The guy laughed louder, swung off the bike. He test-swung the bat once, twice. Listening to the weight. Then he slammed the end down on the pavement and leaned on it like it was a cane.
"Come on then, Orange," he said, grin widening, gold catching the morning light. "Let's see if you're as tough as you act."
The engine ticked as it cooled. Somewhere far off, a siren wailed. Brookhaven morning, officially started.
---
The fight started before Bianca could think.
First punch. Then second. Then third.
All straight, meant to end it fast.
Her opponent didn't even block hard. He just leaned. Shifted. Let her fists cut air. Like he was bored.
Bianca threw another. Her foot caught on a pebble.
A mistake. Half a second.
"Gotcha," he said, grin spreading under that stitch tattoo.
His front kick shot for her stomach. Bianca's eyes snapped open. Instinct, not lessons. She caught his ankle, hooked her foot behind his knee, and dumped him over his own base.
He hit the pavement hard.
"Don't underestimate me," Bianca said, pinning his shoulders down. Her glasses slid down her nose. She shoved them back up with her forehead.
The guy didn't stop grinning. If anything, it got wider. The kind of grin that meant he'd been bored, and now he wasn't.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said.
Then his legs exploded. He bucked her off with a scissor motion and was back on his feet before Bianca even blinked. No wasted motion. No panic.
"Clench your teeth, Orange," he said, spinning the bat once around his finger.
From that point, it wasn't a fight. It was survival.
Bianca moved. Slipped left. Ducked. Tried to close distance. But he was reading her. Every dodge barely cleared the bat. Every swing she threw, he made her pay for it.
The hits landed. Not all of them, but enough.
Bat handle to the liver — air left her lungs in a rush.
Bat head came down on her toes — pain shot up her leg like lightning.
Then he used the bat as a vault, jumped, and dropped a kick straight into her chest.
Bianca hit the ground. Concrete bit her palms. Blood filled her mouth. Copper and spit.
From the corner of her eye she saw May. Face pale, hands shaking. Horrified. Bianca tried to signal her to run, but May was already turning, sprinting down the alley. Smart. Find help before Bianca actually died.
The guy stepped closer, bat dragging on the pavement. Sparks.
"It's been fun, Orange," he said, raising the bat for the finish.
Then his phone buzzed. He clicked his tongue, annoyed, and answered without looking away from her.
"Yo, Aaron, what's up?"
His voice went casual. Like he wasn't standing over someone bleeding on the ground.
"Mmmhmm. Mmmhmm. Meeting of the ranked 1A students? Alright, I'll be there."
He hung up. Pocketed the phone. Straddled his bike in one motion.
"You were lucky this time, Orange," he said, kicking the stand up. Engine roared. "We'll finish this later."
The bike shot forward and vanished down the street, gold grill flashing one last time before the exhaust swallowed him.
Bianca lay there, chest heaving. Blood on her lips. Glasses cracked. But her eyes were still open. Still locked on where he'd gone.
One thought, sharp through the pain: _Who was that guy?_
Footsteps. Light. Cautious.
"Bianca, are you okay?"
Payal's voice. She came out of an alley, hands already reaching to help. No weapon. No fight stance. Just her, worried.
"I'll be fine," Bianca rasped. She let Payal pull her up. Every rib screamed. "But… how'd you find me?"
"A blonde, quiet girl told me to come here," Payal said, slinging Bianca's arm over her shoulder. "She said she was sorry she couldn't stay, but she had to get to class."
Bianca smiled through the blood. Small. Real.
"I see," she said.
And the flashback ended.
---