There was a flash of hurt in Wyatt’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.
Asa’s heart sank to his stomach. He wanted to take those words back because he was pretty certain he didn’t want his friend to leave.
“I get that you’re dealing with feeling hurt by turning it into anger,” Wyatt said quietly. “But I can’t be your friend if you’re not going to let me be one. And yeah, Asa, you still got friends, in case you don’t remember. So when you’re ready to realise that you’re too focused on Hunter and Carson and the other idiots like them that you’ve become completely blind to Lyra and I who’ve always been nothing but good to you, come find me.”
Wyatt threw Asa one last glance over his shoulder and began walking away, turning around the bend in the corridor, leaving Asa by himself with nothing but silence as company.
This was different than watching Isla walk away. This was different that standing helplessly while Carmen pushed him away. This time, watching Wyatt leave, Asa knew it was no one’s fault but his own. And maybe it was a wake-up call for him. Maybe something was trying to tell Asa that he needed to stop losing himself to all the hate and start focusing on all those who loved him instead.
•••
Asa had entered Principal Hendrickson’s room, waiting and sitting in awkward silence for about eleven minutes or so, when his parents had walked in. Asa felt his heart—which had dropped to his stomach when he’d made Wyatt leave—sink further down to his feet.
“Papá?” he called, panic apparent in his voice, as his eyes darted between his parents. “Ma? What are you doing here?”
“I called them of course,” the principal spoke for the first time since Asa had entered the room. “They need to be here.”
Asa’s head snapped towards Principal Hendrickson. “No, they don’t!” Asa said through gritted teeth, wanting the ground to split open underneath his feet and swallow him whole until he was lost beneath the earth.
The last thing he’d ever, ever wanted to do was have his parents called down to the school. The shame ate away at him in huge chunks, and he felt himself grow smaller and smaller with each bit that was taken away.
“I don’t understand. What’s going on?” his mother asked quietly. Her forehead was creased with so much worry, and that hurt Asa more than anything else that had happened so far today.
“Why don’t you take your seats, Mr. and Mrs. San Román?” Principal Hendrickson gestured towards the two vacant chairs on Asa’s right.
His mother took the seat right next to Asa, slipping her hand into his while doing so, and the tight knot of worry in his gut came undone at the support she was giving him. The principal started with his agenda and went on, debriefing both Asa’s parents on what had transpired in the cafeteria until the other boys had managed to break up the fight in hopes that a figure of authority wouldn’t see them.
It didn’t really work out that way, seeing as how Cromwell had marched into the canteen with a thundering voice, barking out commands that sent most of the students scrambling away. Of course she hadn’t kept her mouth shut, making snide comments at Asa that made him want to punch her too.
He’d stormed towards the principal’s office, not waiting for the stupid woman (who was supposed to be a just and fair disciplinarian) to lead the way. He’d also made it a point not to glance at the table where he knew a certain girl with midnight hair and thundercloud eyes sat.
Something inside Asa hurt when he recalled the way they’d been lost in their own world, Carmen and he, when he’d kissed her on the cheek and everything had just felt so right.
And now they couldn’t even meet each other’s eyes.
It was as if Hunter always had a hold on the reins that controlled Asa’s emotions. And he, Asa, was growing beyond sick of it. He wanted to stop succumbing so easily to his rashness; he didn’t want to give himself over to that raging inferno inside him that Hunter always found a way to fuel. Asa knew he was and could be better than that.
Asa needed to be better than that.
“…your son did quite a number on the other kid,” Principal Hendrickson was saying when Asa tuned his ears back in. “So, I’m afraid to say this has taken a serious turn.”
“He deserved it,” Asa muttered, shoulders squared and chin raised, not backing down.
“Did he?” Hendrickson cocked a brow. “Want to tell me how you came to that conclusion?”
Surprise flickered across Asa’s face but he quickly composed himself. In all honesty, he didn’t expect the principal to offer him a chance to explain. Cromwell never had.
But maybe not all the figures of authority in this school were as biased as her. Maybe Asa would get to tell his side of the story after all.
“He was making derogatory comments,” Asa said in a cautious tone, not knowing how else to phrase it.
“Derogatory comments?”
“Yes.”
Principal Hendrickson sighed and leaned back in his chair, holding his chin and observing Asa with a slight frown on his face. “Care elaborating on that, Asa?”
Asa blinked, his tongue not cooperating as it twisted into a knot and stopped the jumbled mess of words from falling past his lips. “Well…” he stopped speaking and clamped his mouth shut, because he didn’t know. He didn’t know. He didn’t know. And worst, he didn’t know what it was that he didn’t know.
But Asa just didn’t know.
He knew he was supposed to say something; to shed light on the reasoning behind his
