By Tuesday, the fight wasn't just a rumor anymore—it was an incident. Roosevelt High didn't like incidents. They liked discipline reports, rules, neat little boxes to check. But Derrick Kane didn't fit in boxes. He ripped them apart.
The intercom crackled during second period. Everyone froze, waiting for the name we all knew was coming.
"Derrick Kane. Report to the principal's office immediately."
The classroom went dead silent. Even the teacher's chalk stopped mid-scratch. Derrick didn't move at first. He let the silence stretch, daring anyone to breathe too loud. Then, slowly, he stood, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and walked out like he owned the hallway.
I shouldn't have cared. But when the door shut behind him, I realized I was holding my breath.
---
They said the principal, Mr. Grant, was tired of him. They said this was Derrick's final strike. They said suspension, maybe even expulsion, was on the table. And for once, I believed the rumors.
By lunch, the story spread: Derrick had mouthed off to the principal. Said something sharp, something dangerous. No one knew the exact words, but whispers claimed Mr. Grant's face had turned red, and the vice-principal had to step in.
Some students cheered. They wanted him gone, out of the way. Others looked nervous—because if Derrick left, Roosevelt's football season would sink with him.
Me? I wasn't sure what I wanted. But I knew one thing: Derrick wasn't afraid of the principal. He wasn't afraid of anyone. And that was the problem.
---
After school, I caught a glimpse of him outside the office. He leaned against the wall, waiting. His hoodie shadowed his face, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the restless tapping of his foot.
"They want to suspend me," he muttered, not even looking at me. I didn't know why he spoke—maybe because I was the only one dumb enough to be standing there.
"Are you surprised?" I asked.
His eyes flicked up, sharp and cold. Then, for the briefest second, a smirk tugged at his mouth. Not a happy one. The kind of smirk that hid fire behind smoke.
"Surprised?" he said. "No. But they'll regret it if they try."
And with that, he walked away—like the whole school board was just another opponent he planned to dribble past.
---
The next morning, rumors exploded. Derrick's hearing was scheduled. Suspension papers were ready. Teachers whispered he was finally finished. But deep down, I knew better.
Derrick Kane didn't end with a suspension.
He began with one.
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