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Recovery Time Part 2 - Zoey's rage

Tracy's POV

My blood freezes. Principal Randall is standing there, her arms crossed, her expression sharp and disapproving.

"Nothing, Principal Randall," I say quickly, as Kira helps me up. I try to take a step, but a wave of dizziness washes over me. The pain in my right shoulder is spreading like fire down to my elbow, and my vision blurs. My knees buckle, and I start to fall.

Kira catches me, her eyes wide with alarm. "Whoa, easy, Tracy!" She helps me sit back down on the floor and leans me against the lockers.

Principal Randall's POV

It didn't take long for me to put two and two together. I'd seen this dynamic a hundred times before—a jealous athlete and her brutish boyfriend acting as her enforcer. But this was different. This was worse.

"Miss Burlew," I say, kneeling down to be at her level, my voice low and serious. "What Mr. Halls and Miss Bueno did is not trivial high school bullying. They threatened you when you were already injured and more than likely harmed you more by slamming your injured arm into the lockers. This is an assault."

"My elbow never hit the lockers," Tracy says, her voice small but surprisingly clear. "Just my shoulder."

Tracy blinks a few times, trying to shake off the dizziness, but it's obvious that the pain in her shoulder, combined with the pain in her elbow, is overtaxing her system. She looks pale and shaky.

I stand up, my decision made. "Miss Ford," I say, my voice sharp and commanding as I look at Kira. "Get Miss Burlew to the nurse. Now."

I turn my gaze back to Zoey and Grant, who are watching with a flicker of something that might almost be fear. "As for you two, my office. Move."

I don't wait for them to follow. I walk briskly down the hall, knowing they are trailing behind me. I hold the door open, gesturing for them to enter first before closing it with a firm click. I point to the two chairs in front of my desk.

"Sit."

They sit, and I take my own seat, steepling my fingers on the desk. The silence in the room is heavy, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock. I pick up my phone and dial the athletic department.

"Bueno," a gruff voice answers.

"Coach Bueno, it's Principal Randall. I need you in my office immediately. It concerns Zoey."

Assistant Coach Bruno's POV

 I hang up the phone, my stomach sinking. What has that girl done now? I walk briskly down the hall, my mind racing. Zoey is my daughter. She's my pride and my greatest frustration. I know her competitive fire can border on vicious, but I've always hoped she'd learn to control it.

When I reach the office, I see her sitting in one of the chairs, her face a mask of sullen defiance. Grant Halls is next to her, looking like a scolded dog. I don't even bother acknowledging him. I walk in and stand behind Zoey, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. She flinches at my touch.

I wait in silence, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. We're not just waiting for me; we're waiting for Grant's parents to arrive. A few minutes later, they are ushered in, their faces confused and concerned. I give them a tight, grim nod. This isn't going to be a simple discussion about a poor sportsmanship call.

Principal Randall's POV

With Grant's parents seated and Coach Bueno standing like a silent sentinel behind his daughter, I begin.

"Let's start with the easy part," I say, my voice dangerously calm. "Miss Bueno, you are the current captain of the softball team. Mr. Halls, you have a lengthy disciplinary file for aggression. Miss Burlew is a new student with a documented injury from her very first game. Am I correct so far?"