Yes, she'll fight them, but not here—Heidi decides.
Her jaw clenches. "This isn't the place."
Sierra arches one waxed brow, as if Heidi just announced she'd rather go braid daisies than fight. "Oh? Afraid?"
The other girls snicker, their laughter bubbling up like the world's most irritating champagne.
Heidi narrows her eyes. "Not afraid. I just prefer somewhere with more freedom. Somewhere I can actually beat your asses without worrying about the audience."
The crowd reacts like gasoline on a match. Gasps, little laughs, the ripple of bodies leaning closer. A third-year boy with a mop of curls even mutters, "Ohhh," like this is better than theater.
Sierra doesn't miss a beat. She tilts her head, looking Heidi up and down as though she's inspecting a bug she found in her shoe. "Translation: she's scared." She lifts her hand, palm open to her friends as if she's a general explaining troop movements. "She's desperate to run away before we put her back in her place."
