[25] I just punched him in the face

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I'm not exactly sure what to expect as I walk into the doors of my school, struggling to get in, the entrance flocked with chatty students

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I'm not exactly sure what to expect as I walk into the doors of my school, struggling to get in, the entrance flocked with chatty students.

On one hand, Kit and her friends could've just been exaggerating to make me scared.

On the other hand, they could have actually done something.

No one's looking my way, no one's telling me "Kendra, come over here! You have to see this!" Like in those dramatic tv shows.

I walk to my locker. No dumb posters or pictures of me doing something weird, like I partially expected. Nothing in my locker except for the usual junk.

So I guess nothing happened.

Right?

Right.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, slam my locker shut, and head to Spanish.

I'm almost there when a hand grabs my wrist. I squeak and pull free, whipping around.

Of course.

I groan. "Brandon, I know you don't have much experience, but that's not a good way to approach a girl," I mutter, rubbing my wrist and turning back around. "Bye."

"No! Wait!" He yells, grabbing onto my wrist again. I try to pull free, but he's stronger.

And before I can react, I'm pressed against the lockers and people are flocking towards us, laughing.

Brandon's face is red.

"I heard you broke up with that loser?" He says, putting his hands up on the lockers. My eyes widen, but I don't say anything. "Came running back to me?" I roll my eyes, despite this...situation, trying to show he's not getting to me. Broke up? What is he even talking about?

"Who told you that?" I spit, gathering up all my strength. "You're the loser here. I never broke up with him, so don't get your hopes up." I lift up my hands and push as hard as I can, sending him only a few feet away from me. He's still on his feet.

"Don't touch me." I growl, stepping closer to him, away from the lockers.

Anger boils inside me. What just happened replays in my mind. How close he was. I reel my arm back, then forward, not even sure what I'm doing until my fist hits his face.
     
I just punched him in the face.
    
He falls back, more from surprise than pain, and before he can get back up to hit me or scold me or tell someone or do anything, I'm already gone.
                                              __________

"Kendra Ross and Brandon Terry, please come to the dean's office, thank you." I mentally curse as the loudspeaker beeps and then there's silence, my English class probably wondering what average, boring Kendra Ross could've done to go to the dean.

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