Chapter 1: The Fight

Marc lunged towards Sam, attempting to punch her. He was badly injured, dripping blood all over the ground. They've been fighting for quite a while already. Sam ducked, swiftly dodging Marc's punch. She followed through with a kick to his solar plexus, catching him off guard. He crashed to the ground, then scrambled to get back up, but was smashed back onto the ground by Sam's foot, firmly stepping on him. He coughed, and struggled weakly, before going limp. Sam stared at him angrily. He deserved this for what he said.

Sam cautiously lifted her foot off his back, seeing that he wasn't moving anymore, signifying that he'd surrendered. She then walked off with her back to him. 

Down on the ground, Marc silently sneered at her. Did she think that he was going to give up this easily? No. He was going to prove that he was better than her. Marc leapt off the ground and charged towards her, his face contorted with pain, anger, and resentment. He roared like an animal, looking like a deranged maniac. 

There was blood trickling down his nose onto his shirt and the ground, but he didn't care anymore, he was blinded by revenge. Just as he about reached Sam, she turned around and flipped him onto the ground. He grunted loudly as he painfully flew back first towards the ground once more.

Sam reached down and pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, and said with cold fury in her eyes, "I let you go, yet you try to attack me with my back turned? You're just as low as I thought, if not lower. You call yourself a fighter when you can't even beat a girl? Who do you think you're kidding? You're weaker than a toddler!"

Marc thrashed around in her grip, his face turning blue from lack of oxygen.

Sam threw him on the ground for the third time and left with one last warning, "If you try to pull another stunt, I can promise you at least a few years in the hospital,"

Seeing that he'd finally given up, she marched off, satisfied. She went to the washroom to wash the blood off her hands. She also had a few minor injuries herself, so she bandaged herself after washing. Just as she finished, she heard the intercom come on.

"Samantha Johnson, please report to the office, Samantha Johnson, please report to the office,"

She grumbled as she made her way to the office, knowing that Marc obviously snitched on her.

When she got to the office, she pushed the office door open, knowing already that her parents were there.

The principal stared at her expectingly and motioned for her to sit on the empty chair next to Marc, who shot her a nasty look. Marc was heavily bandaged, with half his face in bandages and his arms practically coated in them. Her parents were there like she'd predicted because they were there every time. They stood next to the principal, with their poker faces on. 

"So," Mr. Zackwell, the principal said, twiddling his thumbs, "I heard that you two got into a little fight."

There was a short awkward pause of silence before he spoke again.

"Mr. Alexander here tells me that you attacked him for no reason," He pointed to both of them before continuing, "Is this true, Ms. Johnson?"

"Not at all." Sam replied angrily, "He was making sexist remarks about women and insulted me. Would you like me to repeat his exact words or do you believe me?"

"Samantha," Her dad said in a warning tone.

"That makes more sense. Mr. Alexander, is this true?"

"What-? Of course not! Don't you see what she did to me? She attacked me for no reason!"

Sam scoffed, "Continuing with your bullshit? You have some nerve, you bastard! There were witnesses too! I could name a dozen on the spot! Stop lying!" She'd jumped up from her chair, eyes blazing with anger.

"Please sit back down," Mr. Zackwell said in a monotonous voice.

She took a deep breath, before sitting back down.

"Who were the witnesses, Ms. Johnson?" He asked her calmly.

Sam did manage to spout a dozen names, and the principal called them all to the office.

When they all stood for what Sam had said, there was no question who was lying.

Sam left with her parents with the sounds of Mr. Zackwell berating Marc echoing through the halls.

The Johnsons were in their Volkswagen, driving home.

"Samantha," Her dad said, before being cut off by her, "It's Sam," She'd been telling her parents for years to call her that yet her dad didn't want to.

"Alright, Sam, we think that it's time to discuss your future."

Sam scoffed, "What? Why now? And if it's about me getting married, you can forget it."

Both her parents already knew about her sexuality and didn't mind.

Her dad reassured her, "We know, we weren't going to make you anyway. What we really wanted to talk about was your career."

Why were they talking about this now? It better not be because of all the fights that she'd been getting into. It wasn't her fault that there were so many stupid people looking to be beaten up by challenging her.

"What about my career? Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?"

Her dad ignored her second question and replied with a question, "Well, what do you want to do in the future?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I don't care either. I probably don't even have to worry about it until at least 3 years later anyway."

Her mom butted in, "You're a 16-year-old in 12th grade, Sam. You're going to graduate soon. And 3 years is shorter than you think."

Sam rolled her eyes, clearly not caring. "Yeah, well, I don't care,"

Her mom didn't believe her. "You seriously don't even have a dream or anything?"

Sam told them flatly, "No. I told you, I really don't care,"

Her dad jumped back in, "The reason we bought up this topic was because your mother and I have a potential career in mind for you."

"And, you want me to pursue it?" Sam said with her eyebrows raised this time.

"Just hear us out first, alright? We're not going to force you if you don't want to."

"Okay, okay, just tell me."

Her father suggested, "How about you become a bodyguard?"