Gabriel took his seat in triple science, but his mind was elsewhere. The shackles still remained heavy. His dreams may have been left in Coach Kemp's office, but his decision took a front-row seat in his head. No matter how much Gabriel tried to shake the disappointment, it refused to leave. He tried everything. He listened in on the band's conversation first.
"Dude!" Mike, the lead guitarist of Reapers of the Keys, said with excitement as he noticed Gabriel looking over at the group. "Way to kill it, bro—smashing the trials and making the football team is no easy feat, bro." Mike continued to nod his head up and down with excitement before tapping the rest of the group to get their attention.
The two other members of the band spun around to look. Lucas's bright blue eyes locked onto Gabriel first as he pinned his beach-blonde hair behind his ear. "Bro—you rocked out the trials, man. You're the talk of the entire school, dude." Lucas leaned in, making sure to cuff his mouth with his hand. "Listen—you didn't hear this from me, bro, but the word through the grapevine is that you're the new it guy around here."
Gabriel began to shake his head in utter disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Just my luck. I'm finally somebody around here, and I have to give it up. I don't know what I did in my last life, but if I was a guessing man, I'd say it must have been something pretty bad to keep getting this luck.
Gabriel knew his newfound fame was solely tied to him being on the team, and as soon as the word travelled that he gave up his spot to David, he would be yesterday's news again. "Thanks, guys, but I gave my spot to David," Gabriel said with a tinge of regret in his tone.
"Woow—dude, that's everyone's dream, to be a part of Harry's team, and you just—gave it away to someone else." Mike had that look in his eye, a look of respect as he shook his head. "I couldn't even begin to imagine being in your shoes—I'm athletically challenged and all—but bro, the balls on you to turn down what others would sell their grandmother for." He leaned back in his seat, widened his eyes, and mimed an explosion with his hands beside his head. "Boom. My mind is blown, bro. But I'll tell you this for free, dude—the size of the balls on you, you'll always have the respect of the Reapers of the Keys," he said.
In unison, the group raised two fingers, pressed them against their chests, and tapped three times in sync as their eyes locked on Gabriel, showing him just how much they respected his decision to step away from the team. "Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it," Gabriel noted as he turned his head back around.
He needed to put his focus elsewhere, and as great and heartwarming as the band's words were to Gabriel, they just made the situation that much bigger in his head. He wanted to release the chains of his dreams that pulled at his ankles, but after that conversation, it was as if there were bigger, heavier ones pulling at him—constantly trying to remind him of what he had lost, refusing to depart, and trying to lay the seeds of regret in his heart. So he did what he hadn't done all year in triple science—raised his hand to answer a question.
Miss Childs looked at him with confusion, as did his classmates, who were stunned into silence. All eyes fell on Gabriel. He could feel it—every stare burning through his skin. It felt intrusive, like his very soul had been laid bare without his permission.
He glanced left, then right, before swallowing hard. Woah… raising my hand to answer a question in triple science is that shocking? Guess I've been slacking. Mom was right—I owe her, and Miss Childs, an apology, he thought, steadying himself to speak.
But just as Gabriel opened his mouth, Miss Childs raised her hand, signaling him to pause.
"Gabriel, before you answer," she said, smiling, "I'd like to offer you a massive congratulations."
Oh no… she's not going to, is she?
"Class, please join me in giving Gabriel a huge round of applause for earning his spot on the school team!"
Yep. She did. So the teachers know, the whole school knows—perfect. No way I'm escaping this now, Gabriel thought bitterly, forcing a smile.
He lifted his hand in half-hearted acceptance as Miss Childs and the class cheered and clapped, his fake grin barely masking the whirlwind inside.
Gabriel took a steadying breath, forcing himself to focus. Then he answered clearly,
"Carbon dioxide + Water → Glucose + Oxygen. As the lamp is moved further away, light intensity decreases. With less light energy, the rate of photosynthesis decreases, so fewer oxygen bubbles are produced.
The control variable—the student should keep the temperature the same, for example by using a water bath, because temperature also affects the rate of photosynthesis."
As the words left his mouth, Gabriel blinked in disbelief. Wait… where did that even come from? he thought, stunned by his own answer.
The class stared back at him, faces frozen, mouths hanging open in shock.
"Correct, Gabriel," Miss Childs said at last, her voice breaking the silence. She gave him an approving nod before turning back to the board and moving on to the next question.
But as the class went on, Gabriel's mind began to drift. The weight of the trial had finally lifted—for now—leaving his thoughts unshackled. But that empty space was quickly filled by Daniel. He couldn't stop thinking about his brother, replaying the moment before he stepped into school.
Daniel hadn't looked fine. Not at all. The image flashed in Gabriel's mind again and again—Daniel raising his hands in surrender at the mere sight of the police. That wasn't someone holding it together; it was someone on the verge of breaking.
He tried to focus on the lesson, but every time he forced himself back to the present, thoughts of Daniel came rushing in, relentless. What's he doing? Is he okay?
Gabriel's chest tightened, anxiety gnawing at him. He found himself glancing at his phone, hoping—praying—for a message.
When the bell finally rang, he gathered his things slowly, still weighed down by unease, and made his way to the next period.
In his next class, Miss Parker asked him to work on a project with a partner. Gabriel's partner, a quiet girl named Sophia, was pleasant to work with, but Gabriel's mind was elsewhere yet again, unable to rein his thoughts and attention back in.
"Hey, are you okay?" Sophia asked, noticing Gabriel's distraction.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Gabriel replied, trying to focus.
But as they worked on the project, Gabriel couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. He kept thinking about Daniel and wondering how he was coping in class.
As the day went on, Gabriel's classes blurred together. He went through the motions in every class; his body was there, but today his mind was on everything but school.
The bell rang for final period, and students rushed into their classrooms. Daniel slid into his seat, trying to settle in as the lesson began.
Then his phone began to vibrate, not once, not twice, but over and over again.
His heart kicked into overdrive. It couldn't be his parents—they knew he was in school. And it couldn't be Gabriel either; he was in final period too. The rhythm of his pulse hammered violently as beads of sweat trickled down his face like rain.
With trembling fingers, Daniel pulled his phone from his pocket. He closed his eyes for a moment, silently praying for a friendly name to appear on the screen. But when he opened them, his blood ran cold. It was Malakie.
His eyes widened in fear, his whole body turning heavy, locked in place as though buried in ice. He set the phone down on his desk and stared as it buzzed across the surface. Malakie wouldn't stop calling—missed call after missed call flashing on the screen until the vibrations finally stopped.
Daniel let out a shaky breath of relief, but when he turned to the window on his right, his stomach dropped. There they were. Malakie and his crew, standing outside, waving at him.
How did he find me? I never told him what school I went to…
The phone dinged again, but this time it was a message. Daniel's stomach knotted as he scrolled.
Don't make me cause a scene, Daniel. It's in all of our best interests if you play ball.
Panic shot through his body from head to toe. He typed quickly with wet, trembling thumbs:
I'm not ignoring you. I'm in class—I can't just answer my phone.
The reply came instantly:
Then here's what you do. Tell the teacher your stomach hurts, that you're cramping—whatever it takes. Get out of that classroom and get over here. Now.
Daniel swallowed hard and raised his hand, his pale, sweaty face making the act all the more believable.
"Daniel, you don't look well," Mr. Humphrey said, concern in his tone.
"I need to see the nurse," Daniel blurted, clutching his stomach. "It hurts—it hurts!" He slammed his head down against the desk, groaning as if he were in real pain. For Daniel, this wasn't his first rodeo, but it was the first time he had ever put on an act for Mr. Humphrey.
Mr. Humphrey's expression twisted with worry. "Of course, of course—go, go now!" he stammered.
Without another word, Daniel shot out of his seat and bolted through the door. But instead of heading for the nurse's office, he sprinted down the hall, straight toward the exit.
His chest clenched, but he didn't slow down. He knew where he was running. He knew what waited for him.
Still, he ran head first into the lion's den.