by Ruby Vincent
People passed me in my own hallway and spat that I was a traitor. Rhys, Zack, and Sully tried to corner me again coming out of the basketball gym. Derek heard the commotion and raced out. A swift punch to Zach’s jaw shut him up temporarily, but I can’t say it solved the problem. Even so, from then on the boys signed up to help to show their support of me.
“What you’re doing is amazing,” Melody said.
The two of us were out in the hall, a few feet from the dining room. We agreed to meet up before dinner to talk.
“I wish I could start up your battle tutoring on the other campus, but I’m known as the girl against the system. People won’t buy that I’m trying to help girls work within it.”
“Little do they know...”
Melody smirked. “You are truly fearsome, Zeke Manning.”
It was wrong to toot your own horn, but I couldn’t help returning her grin. “What? All I did was turn the school against each other and get Whittaker to support the ruin of his own plans. Easy.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t believe it when Adam told me what you were doing. Building on what you did last year and training the lower classmen because you knew it riled the Bs, As, and Elites up. Eventually they’d stop sitting back and taking it. Someone would get in the wrong person’s face and it would be class against class. Junior against junior.”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I stated. “No physical fights. But yes, the hope was given enough time I could fray the peace between classes so that when the board came back, it would be impossible to cover up the harm the battle system does. It was pure luck that I got an invitation to the fundraisers and a chance to get Mrs. Jeong on board with the battle tutoring. I had all these speeches written up to convince Whittaker to let me keep going and she handled it for me.”
Melody gazed at me in whole new respect. “I’ve underestimated you and your support for the cause. Sometimes I think people believe in what Stand Up is trying to do, but the closer we get to graduation, the more they convince themselves it can be someone else’s fight.”
“Not me. This is my fight.
“Mine too. That’s why I want you to see this.” Melody reached in her bag and pulled out her tablet. She tapped the screen a few times and then showed me. My eyes widened.
“Do you think this will get the board’s attention?”
“Oh, yeah,” I breathed. “That will do it.
A line of text caught my eye and I paused. I went back and read it again. A fragment of memory broke loose and drifted through my mind.
“Let’s go in.” Melody shoved the tablet in her bag. “I’m hungry.”
I lost the thought as I walked behind her into the cafeteria.
Landon waved me over to the table.
“I have your dinner.” He motioned to the tray next to him. “And your VIP seat.” Landon patted his lap.
“Thank you very—”
“No! I’m fucking sick of this!”
I froze with my butt hovering over Landon. Across the room, a boy with a C on his chest faced off with a table of Bs—or that’s what it looked like. All of the B boys were on their feet.
The C didn’t appear concerned. “Are you refusing the battle? That’s ten points off your grade.”
“I’m not losing ten points and I’m not going along with this bullshit! I used to never get in battles but because of you fuckers targeting us, I had seven last semester. I’m not doing it anymore! I’m going to Miss Val. This is bullying.”
“That’s not even one battle a week,” Tanner shot back. “Zeke had way more than that freshmen year and he didn’t bitch.”
“So what? This is revenge for two-year-old shit?”
Tanner got to his feet. “No, this is us playing the game like everyone else. The only thing that is pissing you off is for once we’re winning.”
Slowly, I lowered myself onto Landon’s lap as the argument played out. I wouldn’t intervene. This is what I wanted.
“We’re not doing anything wrong,” Tanner went on, “and Zeke always says he’s not going to help anyone trying to battle the same student over and over. So, Miss Val won’t back you up.” He jerked his head at the C who started it all. “Jamie challenged you. Are you going to accept or not?”
“No,” the boy ground out.
“Fine,” Jamie spoke up. “Lose ten points.” He pointed down the table. “You. Omari Rodrigo, I challenge you to a battle in—”
“Challenge this, Cunt Class!”
Omari Rodrigo hefted his tray and sent it flying.
I leaped out of my seat. My gaping surprise matched Jamie’s expression as the glob of mashed potatoes dripped down his face on to his jacket.
“Guys!” I yelled. It was time to intervene. “Cool it!”
Jamie dove for the table and snatched up a plate. He flung the heavy, ceramic object at Omari’s head. The boy ducked at the last second and it smashed on the table behind him, causing the girls to scatter screaming.
“Stop!”
My cry was swallowed by a furious roar. Omari knocked his friend aside snatching up another plate, but he wasn’t the only one. Weeks and months of bubbling animosity exploded at once.
Food, plates, trays, and even silverware flew across the cafeteria. Omari and Jamie ran at each other and went down on a bed of mashed potatoes and roast chicken. I ran to pull them apart and was jerked to a stop by a tight grip on my arm.
“We need to get out of here!” Derek bellowed.
“Wha— Ah!”
Derek tossed his blazer over my head and dragged me out.
“Derek!”
Our shoes squeaked on the polished hardwood as loud in my ears as the screams and shouts from my classmates. We escaped into the hall and I threw off the jacket.
“Derek, I have to do something!”
The rest of my friends were right behind us. Landon intercepted me when I tried to go back in.
“No, Zeke! They’re losing their fucking minds in there and they blame you for starting it all. Zach has tried to get you when you were alone before. I’m not letting someone come for you in the chaos.”
Melody clutched her chest, breathing hard. A dark red stain eerily similar to blood stained her shirt. “No one is going back in there.”
“Someone could get hurt,” I protested. “They’re throwing forks!”
“The dining room workers are inside,” Hunter said. “They must have called for help by now. There’s nothing we can do but be far away when Whittaker hands down punishments.”
I wanted to argue but I didn’t like my chances of getting through Derek, Michael, Cole, Adam, Landon, and all of my friends. I let them drag me away. We rounded the corner just as Whittaker and Argyle came tearing down the hall.
A THICK SILENCE BLANKETED the auditorium. No one moved. No one coughed. No one even breathed too loudly. We all just sat as Whittaker’s glare swept over us. I’d never seen him so mad. Those caught in the cafeteria the night before said he shouted so loud, he terrified them back into their seats.
“Last night’s display,” he began after a solid ten minutes had passed, “was a disgrace. In all my years as an educator, never have I seen students behave in such a fashion.”
His voice was a low rasp. It was a disquieting effect to his unnaturally calm speech.
“Next week, the board of education is coming to meet the bright, proud pupils who embody the spirit of this school and reflect excellence every day. As I stand here before you, I don’t see those students.
“You have shamed Breakbattle. You have shamed your parents and your teachers. And most importantly, you have shamed yourself.” Whittaker shook his head. “I can’t stand the sight of you.”
With that parting shot hanging in the air, he walked off the stage.
No one moved for a minute, and then a soft noise drew our attention. Miss Val approached the podium.
“Good morning, students. Principal Whittaker is understandably upset at what transpired last night, so I
will tell you what this means going forward. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt and most students walked away with nothing more than a few scrapes.
“Nevertheless, it could have been much worse. Beginning immediately, the entire school will lose their privileges.”
That didn’t elicit the shouts of rage I was expecting. It seemed everyone knew this would happen.
“No more weekend activities. Televisions and computers will be removed from those who have it. Tablets will be turned in. The structure of library times and things of that nature will be suspended. No one has designated slots or a right to be anywhere other than their classroom or their dorm unless their teacher chooses to grant you access.
“This brings me to my next point. Battles are temporarily suspended.”
This brought a murmur of surprise. Adam and I shared shocked looks. Never in a million years did we think we’d get this outcome.
“It appears tension came to a head over ‘battle tutoring’ and the decision to not put a stop to it. Rest assured, we will look into it and if this is what we want to allow moving forward. Targeting will never be allowed and no matter what happens, we will ensure the system remains fair for all classes.”
Miss Val cleared her throat. “There will be no questions. That is all. You’re dismissed.”
THE WEEK BEFORE THE long-awaited school board visit was the quietest in Breakbattle history. The administration was serious about the loss of privileges. My room was stripped of the television and computer. The computer was also taken out of our classrooms. To do anything or go anywhere, I needed written permission from Mrs. Peterson. The irony of it all was this was the first time all the students in Breakbattle were treated equally.
Monday morning, I sat with Melody at our table. We both pushed our food around on our Styrofoam plates. There was a question between us begging to be voiced. I decided to be first.
“The board comes today,” I said. “Are you going to go through with it?”
Melody didn’t look up from her plate. “I have to. What happened last week changes nothing.”
“I’ve never seen Whittaker so angry. If he traces it back to you, you’ll be expelled.”
Her hand stilled for a beat. “He won’t trace it back to me,” she finally said. She speared a piece of potato and brought it to her mouth.
“Melody—”
“I’m eating, Zeke. We can talk later.”
After it’s too late.
I let it go. Melody wasn’t one to let people sway her after she’s made up her mind.
Partway through breakfast, Argyle entered the cafeteria.
“Morning, students.” She took her place before the head table. “As you know, the board has arrived. You all will continue your day as normal except for twelve students who I will ask to stay behind. The board will call you one by one to be interviewed, and with any luck, we’ll get through these quickly and without incident.”
She took a piece of paper out of the pocket of her pantsuit and rattled off the list.
“—Cassie Nim and finally, Zeke Manning.”
I started. What did she just say? Me?
“That is all,” Argyle finished. “Have a productive day.”
I traded looks with my friends as the final bell sounded. Melody gave me a stiff nod on her way out, telling me louder than words what she expected me to do.
The room emptied out and I sat back in my chair. Nerves crept in. I never thought I’d be one of the students chosen. I had a thousand things I wanted to say about this system, but would my influence be enough in the face of Dominick Dupre and even Jonathan Grayson.
I have some time. I’ll write down what I want to say and—
“Zeke Manning?”
I froze, bent over my backpack.
“Zeke Manning, will you come with me? Your interview begins now.”
Stiffly, I straightened and rose from the seat. A thin woman in glasses I had never seen before held out her hand as I approached.
“Hello, Zeke. My name is Miss Black. I’m Mrs. Jeong’s assistant. Follow me, I’ll give you a quick rundown on the way.”
She set off and I hurried to keep pace with her.
“The interview should be no longer than thirty minutes. They will ask you questions about your time here. As well as what you like about the Breakbattle system and what you think can be improved. Afterward, you are free to go to class.”
“Okay. Sounds simple.”
My phone vibrated in the depths of my pocket. I took it out and saw what I knew would be there. A message from an unknown number.
As Miss Black chattered on, I opened the text and clicked the link.
I stopped dead.
“What?” I whispered. “What the hell is this?”
This wasn’t the website Melody displayed proudly the week before. That was a simple, clean site titled “The Harm Caused By Breakbattle” with a list of reasons why Breakbattle wasn’t good for students. Clicking on each point took you to a separate page that backed it up with research, dates, and incidents at the school. Her decision to send the website to every student, parent, and teacher would be the final tip to the scale that forced people to see what truly went on at Breakbattle. But that was not the website I was looking at.
A blood red background made the black text stand out even sharper. The title was the same, and there was a list, but this one didn’t speak of impaired adolescence or disharmony. There were only three things on this list.
The hatred among classes is so strong, they beat on each other rather than work together.
They relentlessly push their classmates to the breaking point in pursuit of worthless privileges.
They kill.
“Mr. Manning?”
I read the last bullet point once, twice, three times. The memory jarred loose once more.
“Mr. Manning? Is everything alright?”
“Becca Taylor,” I whispered. “That’s what this is all about. That is what For All is punishing us for.
“Becca Taylor.”
“Mr. Manning?”
“I’m coming.”
Lifting my chin, I put my phone away and continued to the library. Miss Black ushered me on and I walked inside to three familiar faces. The board sat side by side at the table like a panel of judges. Completing the atmosphere was a lone leather seat sitting in the middle of the room.
“Ah, Zeke.” Mrs. Jeong beamed. “Great to see you again. I’ve been looking forward to speaking with you most of all. Please sit and we’ll begin.”
I did so.
They shuffled some papers around, whispering among themselves and passing things back and forth.
“Alright,” Jeong began. “First, tell us about a time—”
I held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jeong. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you’d let me say something first. If you do, I believe it will answer all of your questions.”
“By all means.”
“Thank you.”
Lowering my head, I let out a slow breath. When I looked up again, I knew what to say.
“Breakbattle Academy is the first school I’ve ever attended. Over the past few years, I’ve grown in ways I never expected I would. I’ve made friends. I’ve found love. I’ve learned the meaning of revenge and forgiveness. I have pushed myself past what I thought possible to achieve the highest goals.”
A smile spread over their faces as I spoke.
“I would be lying if I said Breakbattle didn’t make me who I am today. I would also be lying if I said I didn’t like that person.”
Adam’s smile flitted through my head. Landon’s laugh. Michael’s scent. Cole’s arms. Derek.
I felt them all.
“I’m stronger, tougher, smarter, and kinder than I knew I could be,” I said. “If I had the chance to go back and make another choice, I would choose Breakbattle again. This is where I was meant to be.”
Mrs. Jeong clapped enthusiastically. The other members joined her, nodding thei
r heads.
“Well said, Zeke.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied. “I thought a lot about what I wanted to say, but none of it would have been complete if I didn’t tell you how Breakbattle has helped me. It’s the only way you’d understand how serious I am when I say... you cannot approve this expansion.”
Their smiles melted away. The three of them exchanged looks.
“Excuse me?” asked Jeong.
“This school fosters a level of competition that is unhealthy. No, it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous for students to push themselves so hard they become sleep-deprived to the point of hallucinations. It’s dangerous to teach young people to look at the world around them and only see what they can take.
“It’s dangerous to allow all of that to fester unchecked until a group of students believe the only way to move up is to target a girl so mercilessly, she makes the heart-crushing decision to kill herself.”
I met their gaze in turn. “Becca Taylor and her story haunt Breakbattle to this day. We have not learned enough from what happened to her and we don’t have the systems in place to stop this from happening again. You may think you can adopt a version of the battle system that is better than this one, but I’m asking you, why would you want to?
“Why would you want students to be defined by their test scores or our athletic ability? Aren’t we more than that? Before I came here, I have never taken a standardized test or played an organized sport outside of messing around with friends. I failed the orientation test and crapped out in half the sport trials, but here I am, with an E on my chest.
“You can’t measure a student’s potential in one week. You can’t even measure it in four years. Like me, we’re spending these years trying to figure out who we are, but these letters want to do it for us. For some, it says they can achieve anything. For the rest, it tells them they’ve lost before they ever really tried. Life is going to give students like me plenty of reasons to close our hearts to those around us. You can decide right here today to not give us another one.”
I gazed at Mrs. Jeong steadily. “Because believe me when I say, if you approve the expansion, it will be the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”