Broken Hands

23. Betrayal

The history bell blared, signaling the end of class as students pored out, buzzing with chatter. Russell gathered his books, and Milo fell into step beside him as they navigated the crowded hallway.

"Finals are creeping up, and it's like they're only getting harder," Milo said, grimacing.

Russell nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I know. Almost done, though. Kind of... gonna miss this place."

Milo snorted. "Miss it? Only thing I'll miss is lunch with you guys."

Russell's smile turned bittersweet. "Yeah... me too."

Milo glanced around, then asked, "Haven't seen Grayson lately. Is he doing okay?"

Russell sighed. "You know how he is. Sometimes he just... loses himself in dumb stuff. He'll pull through."

Milo shook his head, concerned. "How's he handling therapy? Never been through it, but I hear it's tough. And Gray has been through a... hell lot."

Russell shrugged, trying to brush it off. "He doesn't talk about it much. Barely focused, to be honest. Lately, he's always out with Amber. I can't remember the last real conversation we had... but he'll figure it out. He always does."

"Let's hope." Milo gave a small nod, and they parted ways.

Russell made his way to his locker, shoving in his history book and grabbing his English materials. He hesitated, glancing toward the girls' restroom area. Things with Emily had been tense lately. She'd stopped answering his calls, barely replied to his texts. He didn't want to seem like he was suffocating her-but giving her space felt like watching her drift away.

"Hey, Captain." A voice pulled him from his thoughts. It was Dory, one of Emily's cheer friends, her dark hair framing a bright smile.

"Oh, hey, Dory. Have you seen Emily around?"

Dory thought for a second. "Last I saw, she was heading to the theater to check on the stage for our demo."

Russell's expression softened in relief. "Thanks, Dory. I'll see you around."

Heading toward the theater, he fished a box of chocolates from his bag, hoping maybe a small gesture would bridge the growing distance between them. He nudged the door open, peering into the dark room. The theater was empty, the lights off. He turned to leave, hesitating-then instinctively flicked the lights on.

He froze.

In the dim rows of seats, Emily stared back at him, her eyes wide with shock. Next to her, a guy tugged his hood up, hiding his face. Emily's lipstick was smeared, her hair disheveled. Before Russell could react, the guy bolted toward the back exit.

Rage twisted inside Russell as he broke into a sprint, pursuing the figure down the hall. Students dodged out of his way, their startled expressions a blur. He didn't care about the warning shouts from Mr. Peterson, who had spotted the commotion barely stepping out from his office. He only knew one thing-he wasn't letting this go.

With a surge of adrenaline, Russell launched himself, tackling the guy to the floor. The figure struggled, but Russell's grip was unbreakable as he yanked back the hood.

Cooper's face stared up at him, pale and panicked. Time seemed to stop. Russell's heart thundered, every piece falling into place-Cooper's threats, his taunts, and now, this.

"Principal's office. Now!" Mr. Peterson's voice cut through, breaking the moment. He hauled both boys to their feet, the hall clearing as students whispered and scattered.

In the principal's office, Russell sat beside Cooper, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white. Cooper, on the other hand, stared at the floor, his resistance tempered with embarrassment.