They echoed with generations of similar threats, similar moments. Caleb felt his knees buckle, partly from the pressure, but mostly from the shame burning in his chest. That's it. Trip guided him down, forcing him toward the puddle. Right where you belong.
The milk soaked through Caleb's jeans instantly. Cold and sticky against his skin. His robotics notes spilled from his unzipped backpack. Papers scattering across the wet ground. The twins circled like sharks, capturing every humiliating second.
Perfect shot. Derek laughed. This will get so many views. Hold up. Sloan adjusted his angle.
Get his face when heโ" A sudden wind seemed to sweep through the parking lot, carrying with it the sharp click of dress shoes on pavement. The sound was precise, measured. Like a metronome counting down to zero. Jada Hollis emerged from between two parked cars. Her white dress shirt crisp against her dark skin.
Black pleated skirt swaying with each deliberate step. Her ponytail swung like a pendulum as she assessed the scene. Eyes moving from her kneeling brother to the phones, to Trip's hand still gripping Caleb's shoulder. Let him go. Each word carried the weight of an iron bell tolling.
Trip's smile widened. Or what? You'll tell a teacher? Jada's stance shifted subtly. Feet shoulder width apart.
Weight balanced perfectly. Anyone trained in martial arts would have recognized the preparation for what it was. The Whitmore boys, however, only saw a girl half their size. Last chance. Jada's voice remained eerily calm.
Step away from my brother. Make us. Derek challenged, still filming. What happened next seemed to defy physics. Jada moved like flowing water, each motion precise and inevitable.
Her first strike knocked Derek's phone spinning skyward in a glittering arc. Before it reached its peak, she had already disabled Sloan with a lightning-fast joint lock that left him gasping. A girl named Luna, previously unnoticed behind a nearby car, caught Derek's phone out of the air. Without missing a beat, she turned it on the unfolding scene, capturing every second of what came next. Trip released Caleb and lunged at Jada, but she redirected his momentum with textbook Northern Shaolin technique.
Her movements were controlled, efficient, no wasted energy, no wild swings, just precise applications of force that left the bigger boys sprawled on the ground. Derek tried to grab her from behind, but Jada flowed around his attempt like smoke, using his own weight to send him tumbling into his brother. The twins collapsed in a tangle of red varsity jackets and wounded pride. Derek's phone spun through the air, catching the late afternoon sunlight like a jewel. Time seemed to slow as Jada stepped forward, her movements fluid and purposeful.
Behind her, Caleb scrambled to his feet, clutching his soggy robotics notebook against his chest like a shield. His jeans were still dark with spilled milk, but his eyes were fixed on his sister. "Think you're special because you took a few classes?" Trip snarled, his face flushed with rage and embarrassment. His perfect hair was mussed now, his varsity jacket wrinkled.