Chapter 1

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  Drew's eyes were closed. Actually, he couldn't open them. His face was being pushed against something firm and rough, like brick. Well, that's was what he was getting pressured into.
  He felt a firm hand on the back of his head holding him to the brick wall of BridgeStone Middle School. The kid was laughing, voices behind him were cheering and chanting loudly, "Fight, fight, fight, fight!"
  Drew was angry. He didn't know if it was the scraping pain in his face from the wall, the way the kid was laughing and holding him, or the way that other students were encouraging this. But it made him mad. Very mad.
  He pushed off the wall with his hands, spin around to face the kids that had been pushing him into it (A kid named Gunner, a big, burly guy with balled fists, curled lips, and a snooty little piggy face), and punched him. Square in the nose. Gunner stumbled backward, his arms flailing out for balance, and grunted deeply. When he had regained his posture, he stampeded back at Drew, with his head forward, like a bull. Drew simply sidestepped and pushed Gunner to the ground. Gunner was forgetting Drew had fought many, many, many kids, and always came out on top. He might be smaller than Gunner, but he still packed a painful punch.
The kids circling the two, watching the fight, all succumbed to a screaming silence when Gunner splatted to the ground. He landed on his face, letting out a breathless groan. Drew poked the boy with his shoe.
"Are you dead?" He mocked. Gunner was up in an instant, but his entire, already chubby face was swollen and
layered with redness and bruises.
  "Not if you want me to be!" He howled as he bowled toward Drew with his arms outstretched. The crowd began shouting again as the two boys clashed and clambered to the ground: kicking and pushing and biting and pulling each other's hair. But they were soon silenced as Mr. Thee, the biology teacher, marched through the horde of people and straight to the pile of writhing boys.
"EVERYBODY BE QUIET!" He roared. The boys discontinued to wrestle and untangled themselves, standing up squeamishly. Mr. Thee stared at them with outraged eyes.
"I thought I was teaching sophisticated young men," He hissed, "But I should have lowered my standards for you two. I should have known this was happen. So I guess I'm the stupid one here. Is that correct?"
Drew didn't know how to answer. Was it a trick question? All he knew was: you never insult authority.
"No sir," He replied solemnly. Gunner just looked at the ground, silent.
"You two are an example to these other kids. An example of what not to be. Come with me." He sneered harshly.

  Half an hour later, Drew was slouching in the passenger seat of him mom's Camry.
  "Drew," She ranted from the driver's side, "Why? Why do you do these things? You know better than that!"
  "Mom," He said defensively, "He came at me! What was I supposed to do? Sing him a song to ease his anger?"
  His mother glared at him. "Drew!"
"Mom, I'm not lying! It was self defense completely!"
  "Well, why don't you tell that to the suspension you just got!" She snapped. Drew looked back out his window, watching the scenery blur by in fused colors. He sighed.
"I'm sorry, okay?" He said after a moment. "I know I get in a lot of fights, but, I can't help it. I just... I get frustrated, and angry, and defensive, and-"
"Drew, we all get mad sometimes," His mom interrupted, "But you don't take it out on other people, honey! I thought you knew that!"
  "I do know that! It's hard to remember when you're constantly getting attacked, though."
His mom sighed. "I know, I know it's hard for you, Drew."
"It's like other kids just see me as a... As a target that's to be challenged. A fighting dog that keeps getting targeted."
His mother reached across the console and rubbed his shoulder without taking her eyes off the road. "I'm sorry, Drew."
She turned right and eased into their driveway. Drew sighed. He had been suspended for the next week, and probably grounded for the rest of his life.

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