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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄—shouts, whispers, and the unmistakable hum of people recording on their phones. Alejandro nudged me, tilting his head toward the crowd gathered near the boys' changing room.
"Looks like a fight," he said casually, as if this wasn't an everyday occurrence.
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to slow down. "It's probably nothing. Let's just get to class."
But then I heard it—Rafe's name.
My heart dropped into my stomach. All thoughts of class vanished as I turned and pushed my way through the swarm of students, ignoring Alejandro's protests. The closer I got, the louder the chaos became.
When I finally broke through the crowd and stepped into the changing room, the scene hit me.
Rafe stood in the middle of the room, his shirt untucked, uniform stained with blood. His fists were clenched, knuckles red and raw, and his face was twisted in anger. Beside him, Lucas looked just as disheveled, his nose bleeding, his hair a mess. On the floor, two guys were groaning—one clutching his face, the other trying to sit up but failing miserably.
Before I could process it, Rafe grabbed one of the guys by the collar and slammed him against the wall.
"Are you crazy?!" I yelled, stepping further into the room. My voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding.
His head whipped around at the sound of my voice. For a moment, his expression softened—just for a second—before his jaw tightened again. He hesitated, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to calm down.
"Let him go," I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Rafe's grip loosened, and the guy slid down the wall, immediately scrambling to his feet and bolting out of the room. Lucas let the other one go as well, who quickly followed his friend.
The crowd behind me started to disperse, whispers and murmurs fading as the excitement died down. Within moments, it was just me, Rafe, and Lucas in the room.
I folded my arms, glaring at both of them. "You two. Sit down."
They exchanged a quick glance but didn't argue, sinking onto the bench like two kids who'd been caught stealing cookies.
I turned to Rafe first, narrowing my eyes. "You better have a damn good reason for this. Why the hell did you two beat those guys bloody?"
His chest was still heaving, his lip split and bleeding, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the blood across his chin.
