Her shoulder became the pivot. Her hips became the fulcrum. Her motion became the throw. Milo's body snapped forward, feet leaving the ground as if he'd been yanked upward by an invisible hand, his back arched midair, mouth open in silent confusion. The world flipped around him, the sky, the vent, the railing, Nadira's silhouette, then crash.
His body slammed into the concrete so hard the sound cracked through the air. a hollow, shocking, spine-rattling impact that echoed across the rooftop and down the building's walls. For a split second, everything stopped. The wind cut out. The boys froze. Even the loose tarp near the railing stilled as if the entire rooftop held its breath.
Milo groaned just once. Then his head dropped back against the concrete. Arms splayed out like he'd been dropped from the sky. Zayn blinked in disbelief. Trent's lips parted, but no sound came out.
Riker's jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his neck jumped. "What the hell?" Zayn whispered. "No one answered. They couldn't because none of them had seen anything like that in their privileged, consequence-free lives.
They had thrown punches, shoved kids, beat down smaller students in locker rooms and hallways for years. But none of them had ever witnessed a move so practiced, so calculated, so effortless. Nadira hadn't just resisted. She had dominated. She took one slow breath, steady and deliberate, grounding herself again.
The wind tugged at her damp sleeves, but she didn't waver. Below the rooftop, something shifted. A teacher, Mr. Hanley from the math department had been walking across the courtyard, coffee in hand. The loud crash above made him look up and there, through the glare of the sun, he saw it. A body, Milo's hitting the roof with unnatural force.
His brow furrowed. His steps stopped. Suspicion took root. No one on the rooftop saw him yet, but he saw just enough to know something was very, very wrong. Back on the roof, Riker's breathing changed.
It wasn't the casual mocking rhythm he had earlier. Now his breath came harsher, heavier, edges rough with panic he refused to admit. "She—she threw him," Trent whispered, voice trembling. "No, she cheated," Zayn insisted. She tripped him or something.
But they all knew better. Especially Riker. For years he'd controlled the school with intimidation. Fear in classrooms. Fear in hallways. fear in anyone too weak to fight back.
No one ever pushed back. No one ever forced him to reconsider his own strength until now. He stared at Nadira, standing between them and the stairwell door. Quiet, centered, unwavering, not frantic, not wounded, not weak, a threat, a real one. His lips curled as he tried to shape this into something he could still dominate.
"So that's how you want to play it, huh?" Nadira didn't speak. She didn't need to. The silence between them was louder than the rooftop wind. Riker's eyes twitched.
Anger battling fear and fear losing. "No more games," he snapped. "All of you now," Zayn swallowed. Trent hesitated. Milo moaned on the ground, but Riker barked louder, voice cracking under pressure.