I stand by my friend Oliver's locker, trying not to show how heavy my books are. It's the first week back to school after spring break and teachers are already loading us up with homework.

"...And I'm like if you don't want bugs, don't get live next to a pond," finishes Oliver. He works for his dad's landscaping business and sometimes he goes on these rants that are all just gibberish to me. But I listen. That's what friends do.

He slams his locker shut and we start down the hall towards Psychology (ew). Our laughing is cut short when a group of guys yells at us from across the hall. I don't know who they are, but Oliver turns pale. "Hey, Oliver. What's up?" says one. He's jacked and has got a full beard. How is he a high schooler? "Where's my math homework?"

"I-I'm not doing your homework any more. It was getting me in too much trouble."

"No, no, no, that's not how this works. You do my homework and I won't punch you. If you don't do my homework, what's to stop me from rattling your brain between your ears?"

Oliver gulps and a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. I frown and say, "Hey, lay off. Oliver doesn't have to do anything for you."

"Who's this? Oompa loompa?"

"Okay first of all, an oompa loompa is a fictional species not a single person and secondly, I'm not even that short."

The brute narrows his eyes. "You think you're smarter than me, huh?" He snaps his fingers and his lackeys surround me and Oliver. "Say it to my face."

I proceed to push my face into his face. "I'm. Not. Even. That. Short."

"You son of a bitch! Grab him." His friends push my books to the ground and grab my arms to restrain me. Oliver tries to protest, but he's shouldered out of the way. "Nobody talks to me like that, you shit eating rat."

Shit eating rat? His statement confuses me so I don't see his fist coming. I take the punch to the eye, and Oliver takes off down the hall, probably for help. The goons continue to hold my arms. I use them as leverage and pick my feet up off the ground to kick the guy in the nuts. He doubles over in pain. The guys holding me loosen their grip in surprise, so I use the distraction to swing one into the lead douche and punch the other one in the face. I'm not feeling very creative. All three lay on the ground, trapped under the third guy (I must have knocked him out). "Mr. Drake!" gasps a voice behind me.

I turn around and whisper, "Oh crap."

"My office! Now!" orders Mrs. Halifax, the school principle.

Oliver winces behind her and mouths, "Sorry."

I slouch in my seat across from Mrs. Halifax, Jason Collie (the lead goon) and his parents. They called Sully and he's on the way. I'm in so much trouble.

It's silent until the door opens behind me. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Drake," Mrs. Halifax greets.

"Oh, no, I'm not Mr. Drake, I'm Mr. Sullivan. He's adopted." Sully sits beside me. I feel his stare and sink lower in my seat. I'm in soooooooooo much trouble.

"Okay then, Mr. Sullivan, your son was involved in a fight with three other students. One is with the nurse checking for a concussion, one is in the hospital with a definite concussion, and Mr. Jason Collie will be screened for neck injuries after this meeting. Mr. Nathan Drake received only a bruise. The most probable next step would be a five day suspension for Mr. Drake."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sully interjects. "Why are you pointing your finger at my kid? Did you even ask who started it?"

"Yeah, I didn't start the fight," I say. "I was defending my friend."

"Do not talk out of turn, Mr. Drake," Mrs. Halifax warns. "Jason, what's your take?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" his mother says. "That little rat hurt my baby and got away with only a scratch. We're suing if Jason has neck problems."

"No, that's not how this works," Sully says. "Just because Nate got away with only a bruise doesn't mean he's at fault. It means he won." I glance at Sully. He's not really helping my case. "I have yet to hear who threw the first punch and I'm willing to bet it wasn't Nate."

"Jason?" Mrs. Halifax asks.

"Uh, well-" he starts, but his father interrupts.

"You actually think a boy of his standing would throw the first punch, Mr. Sullivan?"

"This has nothing to do with 'standings'. Let your son talk," Sully orders.

"You'd talk to me that way when I'm suing you for thousands of dollars?"

"You don't think I could sue you, too?"

Please stop, I think to myself. We're in enough financial trouble as it is. Just let me get suspended.

"I don't think you would, sir."

"Try me," Sully growls.

"Okay, let's just, uh, get back on topic, please," Mrs. Halifax says, desperately trying to defuse the situation. "Jason, you were saying?"

"H-he attacked us first," he claims, glaring at me.

"No, I didn't! He did!" I explode.

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you-"

"Boys!" Mrs. Halifax barks. We stop and shoot each other menacing looks. "Who is telling the truth?"

"I am!" we both exclaim, pointing to ourselves.

"Who are you going to believe?" Jason's mother asks, "The orphan or the family who could sue your school for everything it's worth?"

"Ma'am, I-" the principal attempts to corral the conversation.

"That boy was bullying my kid and his friend. I will sue the school for everything it's worth if you suspend my boy," Sully says.

"Mr. Sullivan-" Mrs. Halifax tries again.

"My son would never bully another student. How dare you-"

"I dare because your son hit my son! Nate was exercising his second amendment rights!"

"The right to bear arms?" Mrs. Halifax wonders.

"No, the right to defend yourself," Sully explains.

"Sully, that's not-" I try to correct him.

"Whatever, I was making a point. He was defending himself. I refuse to believe anything different."

I look over at him. I wasn't expecting him to take my side. Nobody ever takes my side.

"Let's all just take a break. We'll let Jason get his screening and meet again tomorrow. I'll ask around for witnesses, since nobody here will fess up," states Mrs. Halifax.

We file out of the school without a word. Once we're separated from the Collies, Sully leans over and whispers, "Pretend like I'm busting your ass."

I have enough time to give him a confused look before he completely goes off on me. It's not hard to pretend to be ashamed when your face is already beet red from embarrassment. Most of what he's saying is gibberish, but it seems real. Once we pull out of the parking lot, he cracks a smile and pats me on the back. "Nice job, kid."

I put my head in my hands. "I'm so confused."

"There's nothing to be confused about. You were awesome! I can't believe you knocked out a kid in one punch. That is unbelievable!"

"So you're not mad?"

"Did you not hear me defending you back there? I'm not gonna be mad if you do the right thing."

Huh. That's a first.

"One more question. Are you really gonna sue Mr. Collie?"

"Psh, no," he laughs. "His lawyers would tear me a new one. I just like to rile up rich people. I really hate rich people."