Fighting For More

Chapter 1: The Last Strike

   •Ethan Walker slammed his locker shut with a force that echoed down the deserted hallway. His knuckles were bruised, and his muscles ached from the fight earlier that morning. He didn’t even care anymore. The school was a prison, and he was trapped in it. His dark brown, nearly black hair, cropped into a curly crew cut, was still damp with sweat. His dark blue, almost hunter like eyes glinted with frustration as he glanced at the faint scar on his right cheekbone in the reflection of the metal locker door.

It was supposed to be a quiet day, but as usual, things never went that way for Ethan. He’d made a habit of staying on the wrong side of trouble. And today, that trouble had a name: Chase Reynolds.

Chase, the school’s top jock, was as typical as they came. Blonde, 6'3", broad shoulders, perfect smile, and always surrounded by an entourage of wannabes. Everyone loved him, or at least acted like they did. Ethan, though, couldn’t stand him. They were polar opposites. Where Ethan was all rough edges, hardened muscles, and silent anger, Chase was the golden boy. Privileged, spoiled, and untouchable.

Ethan couldn’t even remember how the fight had started. It didn’t take much for things to escalate when it came to him and Chase. A snide comment, a shove, then fists. Before he knew it, they’d been tearing into each other in the courtyard, the crowd gathering like vultures.

“Walker!” a sharp voice cut through the silence. Coach Barnes stormed down the hallway toward him, red faced and livid.

“You’re wanted in Harris’s office. Now!" Barnes barked, his tone heavy with disappointment.

Without a word, Ethan pushed past the coach and made his way down the hall toward the principal’s office. The confrontation was inevitable. He could feel it coming ever since his fist had connected with Chase’s jaw that morning. Harris wasn’t going to let this one slide. Not after a fight like that.

The door to the principal’s office was already open, and Ethan walked in without knocking, his eyes landing on Principal Harris, who was seated behind his desk, hands clasped in front of him, his face set in a hard line of anger and disappointment.

“What is this about?” Ethan asked, trying to sound indifferent as he slumped into the chair across from Harris.

Principal Harris, a man with deep set eyes and smooth, dark skin, didn’t answer immediately. His expression was one of stern disapproval, his broad nose flaring slightly as he exhaled slowly, clearly holding back his frustration.

“You know damn well what this is about, Walker.” Harris finally said, his voice tight. “The fight this morning. With Chase Reynolds.”

Ethan scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Chase deserved it. That pretty boy’s been provoking me for weeks.”

Harris didn’t flinch, his dark brown eyes locked on Ethan. “It doesn’t matter what you think he deserved, Walker. You can’t keep doing this. You can’t just go around fighting every time someone looks at you wrong.”

Ethan clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck tightening. “He threw the first punch.”

“And you threw the last one,” Harris said flatly. “He’s in the nurse’s office with a busted lip and a black eye, and you’re sitting here with a bruised ego, as usual.”

“Cry me a river,” Ethan muttered under his breath. “The guy’s a spoiled punk.”

Harris sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Walker, I’m not going to argue with you about this. Frankly, I’m tired of it. We’ve had this conversation too many times, and I’m done pretending that you’re going to change.”