The air shifted. A crackle of energy rippled through the hallway. Before Simi could utter a word, Ada's friend thrust her hand forward—no warning, no hesitation. A force, invisible yet powerful, slammed into Simi, sending her crashing against the cold metal lockers with a resounding clang.
But she didn't stay down.
With a sharp inhale, Simi pushed off the locker, eyes flashing with something unreadable. Her left hand shot forward, fingers splayed. A gust of unseen power surged from her palm. Ada's friend gasped as her feet left the ground, her body suspended in midair like a marionette caught in tangled strings.
Then—Simi dropped her hand.
Gravity took over. Ada's friend plummeted, hitting the tiled floor with a sickening thud.
Silence.
The hallway stood still, save for the lingering echoes of impact. I stood frozen, my breath caught in my throat. My pulse pounded, ears ringing with the weight of what I had just witnessed.
This wasn't a school fight.
This was something else entirely.
Before anyone could react, students had already swarmed around us, their hushed murmurs blending into a thick, restless buzz. Eyes darted between Simi, Ada, and the girl still groaning on the floor. Whispers snaked through the crowd like wildfire.
Then—click.
A door swung open. A teacher stepped out, her sharp gaze cutting through the tension. "To your classrooms. All of you," she commanded, her voice ringing with authority.
No one dared to protest. The crowd broke apart, but not without stolen glances, lingering stares heavy with curiosity.
Ada, still standing, wiped a streak of dust off her sleeve and turned to Simi with a slow, knowing smirk. "This isn't over," she murmured, her voice dripping with promise before she and her friends disappeared down the hallway.
The moment they were gone, the air felt thin, stretched.When we got to the classroom, I barely had time to process what had just happened before the school's intercom crackled to life.
"Simi and Dara report to the principal's office."
A collective inhale swept through the class. I could feel their attention latch onto us like a leech, feeding off the tension.
I turned to Simi, my stomach twisting. She was fixing her uniform, smoothing out the creases with deliberate ease, as if we'd just returned from a casual stroll instead of a fight in the hallway.
She didn't look at me. Didn't say a word.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry.
Without a word, we stood and made our way to the principal's office.
With every step toward the principal's office, I could feel the weight of the whispers behind us.
When we stepped into the principal's office, Ada and her friend were already there, seated like they owned the place. Ada lounged back in her chair, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. Her friend—Nancy, I think—shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tapping against her thigh.
The principal, an older man with sharp eyes that missed nothing, leaned forward in his chair. His gaze settled on me.
"What happened, Dara?" His tone was calm, but there was an edge beneath it, a weight that made the air feel heavier.
I stiffened. Why me? I hadn't thrown a single punch. But I swallowed those words, knowing better than to argue. Instead, I kept my voice steady.
"Sir, Ada and her friends blocked our path while Simi and I were heading back to class after lunch. Things escalated, and it turned into a fight."
The principal's gaze flicked between us. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the silence stretching, pressing down on the room like a brewing storm.
"Who threw the first hit?" His voice was sharp now, demanding.
Without hesitation, I lifted a hand and pointed at Nancy.
She tensed, her jaw tightening. Ada shot her a look, a silent warning.
The principal turned his attention fully to Nancy. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his desk, each beat echoing through the still room.
"Nancy," he said, his voice slow, deliberate. "How many times have you been involved in a fight this semester?"
Nancy hesitated. I saw the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she admitted, "Three times."
The silence that followed was suffocating. The principal sighed, rubbing his temples.
Nancy didn't look at him. Didn't look at anyone. But Ada? She sat there, completely unbothered, her smirk never faltering.
The principal leaned back in his chair, his gaze cool and unwavering. "Well, that's three days of detention for both of you," he said, directing his words at Ada and Nancy. "The next fight will earn you a temporary suspension."
Nancy barely reacted, but Ada shot up from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"What? "I wasn't even part of the fight!" she snapped, indignation flashing in her eyes.
The principal didn't flinch. His lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "But you instigated it," he countered, his voice laced with quiet authority. "It all started because of you. "You think you're smart, don't you?"
Ada's mouth opened, then closed.
He turned his sharp gaze to Nancy. "Maybe next time, you should be smart too."
Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.
"Now, get out of my office," the principal ordered, his tone final.
Ada turned on her heel, storming toward the door with Nancy trailing behind her. But not before she threw one last look at Simi and me—a look that promised this was far from over.
As the door clicked shut behind them, the principal shifted his attention. This time, his focus was entirely on Simi.
She had been silent the entire time, arms crossed, face unreadable.
"Well, now, Simi," he said, steeping his fingers. "What do you think is the best punishment for you and Dara?"
Simi straightened, her jaw tightening.
"Should I tell your parents?"
"No, sir!" We both blurted out at the same time, voices overlapping.
A slow smirk pulled at the principal's lips.
"Why not?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Simi let out a breath, her voice steady but laced with something unreadable. "Well, you know my parents won't take it lightly with me, sir."
The principal studied her for a moment before shifting his gaze to me. "And you, Dara?"
I swallowed, adjusting my glasses. "It's my first day… my parents can't hear of this."
The principal exhaled, shaking his head as if he had expected nothing less. "Fine. "One day of detention for both of you." His tone was clipped, leaving no room for argument. "Now, get to class."
"Thank you, sir," we murmured in unison before stepping out of the office.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, Simi huffed, brushing imaginary dust off her uniform. "That could've been worse," she muttered.
I glanced at her, my stomach still in knots. "Could it?"
She smirked. "Trust me. It could."
An hour crawled by, thick with whispered stares and unspoken words. Then, at last, the closing bell rang, its chime slicing through the tension like a blade.