CHAPTER 28
Anthony left his second-period class and almost ran into a towering wall of muscle. He stumbled back in surprise and saw Diego cocking an eyebrow at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Walking you to class,” Diego said.
Anthony fell in beside him, more confused than ever. They’d stopped doing this months ago. Diego must have left his previous class early to get here so soon. In the past, Anthony always had to wait for him to show up.
“This is nice of you,” he ventured, “but there haven’t been any issues with Troy or his friends.”
“Oh yeah?” Diego snarled. “You still going to prom with Cameron?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted.
“Then you’re having issues.”
That was true, technically, but those problems were of a different nature.
Anthony didn’t need a bodyguard. While he was still a novice, the judo lessons he took made him confident that he could at least get away if attacked again.
And really, compared to everything Diego had been going through, his own issues seemed inconsequential. “I’m really sorry about—”
Diego cut him off. “Save the well-meaning bullshit.”
“You lost your biological father,” Anthony pressed.
“And you’re about to make me lose my temper.”
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you have my condolences. If I can be there for you in any way, just let me know. I owe you. For being a terrible friend when you needed me most.”
Diego glanced over at him sharply. Then he shook his head in exasperation. “You wanna know what this whole mess has taught me? To keep my mouth shut. Especially if there’s something you don’t want people to know. Ricky talks too much.”
“He cares about you. We all do.”
“Then prove it,” Diego said.
“How?”
“By staying out of it.”
Anthony scrunched up his face. “Staying out of what?”
“This.”
Diego marched across the hall, directly toward three guys approaching from the opposite direction.
Graham Fowler, huge and doughy with a sweep of blond hair, noticed him first. He nudged his companion, Jerome, a linebacker on the football team who had helped beat up Anthony in the cornfield last year.
With them was Traitor Dave, their former friend.
“I’ve got a message for Troy,” Diego said. Then, without warning, he swung, cracking Graham across the chin so hard that he stumbled backward.
A shocked silence fell over the hallway as everyone slowed to watch. Then all hell broke loose. Jerome launched himself at Diego in a tackle, shoving him up against the lockers. The spectators went wild, circling around them and beginning to chant.
“Fight! Fight! Fight!”
Dave took off down the hall.
Anthony shoved his way through the crowd, his height allowing him to see what was happening.
Diego shoved Jerome away and swung at him, but missed, leaving him open to Graham, who had regained his feet and jabbed at Diego while keeping his distance, as if scared to engage.
He managed to pop Diego on the cheek, but without enough force to do anything but irritate him further.
Diego moved toward him with his fists raised, slow and deliberate, like a trained boxer.
Graham backed up against the crowd, who pushed him forward.
Diego struck twice, each blow a blur that connected with Graham’s head, causing him to sway.
Diego could have easily finished him off, if not for Jerome, who snaked an arm around Diego’s neck from behind, putting him in a standing chokehold.
Diego elbowed his captor. Jerome winced in pain, but the huge linebacker merely tightened his grip, his biceps flexing.
Graham used the opportunity to take cheap shots at Diego, punching him in the face once, twice, and a third time.
Anthony tried to shove his way through the crowd, wanting to help, if only as a distraction.
Diego’s eyes were bulging out, like he was going to lose consciousness, blood splattering his face as Graham punched him again.
Diego changed tactics. He lifted his feet off the ground and kicked Graham simultaneously with both legs, the force knocking Jerome over in the process, crushing him beneath Diego’s weight on the floor.
Once freed, Diego didn’t waste any time.
He launched himself at Graham’s legs, knocked him down, and pinned him by the neck with one hand while the other formed a fist to return the courtesy that he’d been shown.
Graham was gasping for air while being pummeled.
Diego was going to kill him! He got three more punches in before Anthony finally reached him and grabbed the swinging arm.
He was only strong enough to slow it. Diego ripped himself free and rounded on him, releasing Graham’s neck in the process.
Anthony shied away from the unbridled rage in those eyes before they flickered and seemed to recognize him.
The crowd parted to allow a pudgy security guard through.
“That’s enough!” the older man panted, clearly winded.
Diego got to his feet, huffing as he oriented on Jerome, who was leaning against the lockers while clutching a shoulder, like it was injured. “Troy broke the deal!” Diego shouted, getting up in his face. “He brought this upon himself! He messes with my friends, I mess with his!”
“Come on now,” the security guard said, gingerly taking Diego by the arm.
A coach and a teacher had shown up, one of them squatting to check on Graham, who was still on the floor and moaning.
“Last warning!” Diego shouted while allowing himself to be led away. “Next time I’m coming for him!”
Anthony stared in shock. Part of him felt like he should follow Diego, to be a witness in his defense, but the truth was that the attack was unprovoked. Except maybe it wasn’t that simple.
Diego had fixed Troy’s car earlier in the year, right before he stopped walking Anthony to class. And since then, Anthony hadn’t suffered any abuse. Not until the recent change in prom rules.
Troy broke the deal!
Anthony’s stomach sank. Diego had done this for him.
Or maybe for Cameron. Despite being shaken by the violence he’d just witnessed, he was moved.
Two of the guys who had attacked him were being led down the hall toward the principal’s office.
Graham was limping. Jerome was still clutching his shoulder.
This was the closest thing to justice Anthony would receive for the night they viciously ganged up on him.
And yet, it didn’t feel like victory, because Diego was in the middle of it all, and Preckwinkle couldn’t be trusted to handle the situation with a single iota of fairness.
— — —
Diego sat in a conference room next door to the principal’s office and was filled with smug satisfaction.
Two against one, neither of the other guys a pushover, but he’d held his own.
Better than that, he’d finally gotten some catharsis, because for a brief moment, it wasn’t Graham and Jerome he was fighting but Oscar and Hector.
He had finally dished out the pain they deserved, at least partially.
He couldn’t stop grinning. Which seemed to make the security guard seated across from him uncomfortable. The door behind Diego opened. He didn’t bother checking who it was. There was no mystery as to how all of this would play out.
“Oh my goodness,” a woman said when taking a seat next to him. Judging from the first-aid kit, she was the school nurse. She began dabbing at his injuries while tutting under her breath. “I don’t know why you boys do this to yourselves.”
“I’m fine,” Diego replied. “It’s the other guys you should worry about.”
“I’ve already seen them!” she shot back.
“Oh yeah? Paint me a picture.”
Her mouth became a flat line. She didn’t say much else, except to ask questions intended to determine if he had a concussion.
After she left, Diego waited for what felt like hours.
Eventually, he heard Preckwinkle speaking to someone on her way into the room.
A police officer, he assumed incorrectly.
That might have been preferable to the truth, actually.
“I’m sure we can get this resolved quickly,” his mother said, eyeing him coolly.
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Preckwinkle replied. “Not with a disciplinary record as long as your son’s.”
“I’ve always been an overachiever,” he interjected.
Marti took the seat next to his, fixing him with a hard gaze.
Diego dropped the attitude and sat upright.
“Your son has had four unexcused absences this week alone,” Preckwinkle continued.
“We had a death in the family,” Marti said dryly. The only good thing about the trip to El Paso was returning home to tell his mother that the man who raped her had died without dignity.
“My condolences.” Preckwinkle put on a pleasant smile, as if about to engage in work she enjoyed. She settled down next to the security guard and opened a folder. “Now then, would you like to tell your mother what happened? Or shall I?”
Marti looked to him for an explanation.
“Do you remember Anthony?” he asked.
She nodded. “Of course.”
“A bunch of guys jumped him on Halloween. They messed him up pretty bad. I beat the hell out of two of them today.”
Preckwinkle was already flipping through papers. “I don’t see any record of—”
“Of course not,” Diego said. “Anthony never ratted them out.”
Preckwinkle gave up the search and adjusted her glasses. “Did this take place on school property?”
“Does that matter?”
Preckwinkle addressed his mother instead. “We take the safety of our students very seriously.”
“Then why does my son have a black eye?” Marti retorted.
That was news to him. He bet it looked awesome.
“There’s only so much we can do,” Preckwinkle countered. “Especially between classes. In this case, your son was the instigator.”
Marti frowned. “From the sound of things, the boys who attacked Anthony are the ones who started this.” She turned to Diego. “Were you protecting him?”
“Yup. Graham has always had it out for him. Like when he punched Anthony in the cafeteria.” Diego nodded at the open folder. “You got that on record?”
“The matter has already been settled,” Preckwinkle said. “Through proper channels. We cannot allow vigilantism in the hallways. Surely you agree with that!”
“I do,” Marti replied. “But I also think it never would’ve come to that if you’d kept Anthony safe.”
Preckwinkle narrowed her eyes. “Again, I must insist we focus on the matter at hand. One of the injured parties is threatening legal action.”
Marti shrugged. “Considering all I’ve heard, I’m not surprised.”
“Not toward the school,” Preckwinkle stressed. “But toward you and your son.”
Marti tensed. “Us?”
Diego sighed. “Graham, one of the guys I got into a fight with, his dad is a lawyer.”
Marti searched his eyes, concern revealed in her own. He knew what she was thinking. If they lost a court battle and had to sell the auto shop to pay damages, they would be losing their home in addition to their livelihood.
“I advise you to seek legal counsel of your own,” Preckwinkle said, “if we can’t resolve matters today.”
“How?” Marti asked.
“You are not the only parent concerned for their child’s welfare.
This unfortunate rivalry must be put to an end.
I’ve had the school draw up an agreement for you to sign.
” Preckwinkle slid a piece of paper across the table.
“In essence, your son would be suspended for the remainder of the school year and be placed on probation for the entirety of the next, with the understanding that a single transgression would result in his permanent expulsion. During his suspension, Diego will not be permitted on school property for any reason or allowed to participate in extracurricular functions, such as the theater group. Furthermore, you would agree not to hold anyone liable for personal damages, including this school and the other party.”
Marti pulled the paper close to read it. “Have the parents of the other boys already signed?”
“They haven’t been asked to,” Preckwinkle replied.
Marti crossed her arms over her chest. “Why not?”
“We’ll take the deal.” Diego grabbed the pen and offered it to his mother.
Marti ignored him, still not satisfied. “Where’s the guarantee that we won’t be sued?”
Diego wasn’t worried about that. Graham’s family didn’t need the money. They only wanted him gone. This would make that happen. If he bothered showing up next year, some pretense would be found for kicking him out permanently.
“This agreement is your only avenue to avoid litigation,” Preckwinkle pressed.
“It’s fine, Mom,” Diego said. “Really.”
She eyed him a moment. Probably because he didn’t call her that often. Marti finally accepted the pen and signed.
“Excellent,” Preckwinkle said. “My associate here will escort you both off the property.”
“We can find our own way,” Marti spat.
Preckwinkle’s smile was sickly sweet. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. As I already explained, we take the safety of our students very seriously.”
They suffered the indignation of being thrown out. Diego braced himself for his mother’s ire. Fortunately, her anger wasn’t directed at him.
“What a bitch,” Marti said, glaring at the building they’d just left. She didn’t seem to care that the security guard was standing nearby.
“Yeah, she sucks.”
Marti sighed. “I guess this means you’ll be returning to work full-time.”
Diego shook his head. “No thanks.”
“You can’t just sit around the apartment. You have to do something.”
He wasn’t interested in maintaining his fake father’s legacy.
All he wanted to do was go home and get high.
Although he should probably sell some of the weed, or Keisha would get pissed off.
That, and it would provide him with a steady source of income.
“I’ll pull my own weight,” he promised. “You’ll see.
” He tilted his head. “My bike is over there.”
Marti continued to study him. “You all right?”
“You mean this?” Diego touched his face. “I barely felt a thing.”
“I mean all of it. You said that Anthony got beat up on Halloween. Why’d you wait until now to make them pay? Is it because of everything you’ve been going through?”
“Two birds, one stone,” he said with a shrug.
“You can talk to me. About anything.”
“I’ll see you at home,” Diego said uneasily.
The offer to talk about his feelings felt weird. They didn’t do touchy feely stuff. Although he was reassured, when his mother flipped off the security guard, that not everything had changed.