"But I want to go to the Winter Formal!" Tricia whines, sitting on Tanner's lap. Her needy voice is drowned out by the usual din of the cafeteria. I take a bite of my sandwich, my eyes on the phone with another video of climbers playing, but my ears still register Tanner's annoyed huff as he answers, "Look, babe, I told you..."

But she cuts him off decisively, "I don't care! I told you I wanna go! And if you don't, I'll go with someone else!" With that, she jumps from his lap and hurries away. Tanner looks unperturbed, even relieved, and gets down to his own lunch, which had to endure their long make-out session and - I bet - went cold.

Liam and Rory are at the table too, but we're all engrossed in whatever's happening on our phones, so nobody talks.

"Hey, Scarface," Tanner turns to me. It's been 10 days since that fight on the rink. I've had my stitches removed, and on my chin and forehead, there's a line of scar. It's pretty thin but still visible. It looks like someone tried to cross out my face, but the pen refused to work in the middle.

I glance at Tanner wordlessly.

"Care to make some money?"

Money, well... I need money, but most of Tanner's ideas are way too shady to bother with. Too shady even for me, I mean. Still, I look at him, which prompts him to go on.

"Let's drop by Tobias' after school."

"I have practice," I counter calmly. Tanner scowls.

"Look, Forest, I'm offering you a chance to make some cash. Get your priorities straight. Or are you dreaming of joining the upper league?" Tanner sneers, casting a disdainful glance at the jocks seated at the table on our left. It's our football team. I've never cared about them, but as far as I know, they hardly win anything, yet they still carry themselves around like stars. "League of losers," he huffs, not bothering to keep his voice down.

One of the jocks hears him and gives Tanner a stink eye, but it seems that's exactly what Tanner wanted. "What's up, pretty boy? Any big games coming up? So I can watch your ass get whooped," he laughs. Rory and Liam smile, but cautiously.

The burly one with a crew cut and a letterman jacket says, "Do you have a problem, Scott?"

"Who, me?" Tanner grins, unabashed. "No! I was just trying to talk my friend out of joining your pathetic crew."

"Who needs your fucktard? Stay where you belong, shitbags."

Tanner reacts almost at lightning speed. He jumps up from his seat and lunges at one of the guys, knocking over his chair and then the next one. As the angry guys try to get up, Tanner slams the third guy's head into the table and leaps to the other side. The guys on the other side are already on their feet, and just in time, because Tanner then knocks over the table. The blood is boiling.

First, one guy, then another, tries to grab Tanner, but he deftly dodges them. Rory and Liam stand up from their seats. I lazily swallow the rest of my sandwich and glance around the cafeteria; everyone is watching another of Tanner's performances. Just another day at Lawell High School. Nothing new.

I notice a cafeteria lady slipping out from behind the counter into the hallway.

"At least everyone knows what the L on your jacket stands for!" shouts Tanner. "Bunch of fucking losers!" His lips are already split, blood smeared across his face with a wide grin, but he continues to throw punches, egging his opponents further.

I didn't dream of messing with jocks during my lunch, but we're outnumbered and Tanner is almost cornered with no way to retreat. I jump over the table, trip one guy, and tackle the other to get closer to Tanner. Rory and Liam make their way through on the other side. But as soon as we reach Tanner, an authoritative voice booms, silencing the cafeteria. Principal Dockins, accompanied by a guard, strides towards us, megaphone in hand.

"What on earth is this?!" he demands. I thought he'd been principal long enough to know that no one ever answered such questions. Why bother asking? To get an awkward silence in reply? Well, here it is, punctuated by occasional creaks, breaths, and whispers. "To my office. Now!"

Reluctantly, the football team follows him, scowling and hurling final insults at us. Tanner sneers and smiles. He thrives in it. Neither the blood on his face nor the problems that the principal's wrath can pose bother him in the slightest.

I trudge behind. Not my favorite part.

The office can't accommodate us all, but Tanner, Rory, Liam, and I are among the first ones in front of the headmaster's desk along with a couple of team players - the burly one, who I think is the captain and another guy with curly hair. He's sporting a flourishing bruise under his eye.

"Sit down, all of you," says Dockins as soon as the door shuts behind our backs. "Now, care to explain what in the world happened in the cafeteria?"

Tanner, leaning back in his chair, says with a defiant smirk, "Just a friendly debate, sir. About the sorry state of our football team."

Liam chuckles, and the hunky player tries to incinerate him with a stare. "This guy insulted us and started the whole thing!" he heatedly interjects.

Rory rolls his eyes, "Oh, please. Like your precious football team doesn't dish it out every chance they get."

"Enough!" Dockins barks, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe I have to deal with this nonsense again!" His stern gaze sweeps across the room.

"You all bear responsibility for this brawl," he says. "Fighting in my school is unacceptable, and there will be consequences."

"Consequences?" Tanner scoffs, unimpressed. "Like what? Detention? We've been through that before." And we exchange knowing smiles.

Before Dockins can add anything, the door creaks open once more, and the broad figure of the Coach enters the room.

"I heard about the fight," he says, frowning and looking at the jocks who seem to shrink a bit. "I hope you lot didn't start this."

"We didn't!" says the captain hotly, pointing at Tanner's smug face. "He insulted us! And he started the fight!"

Coach merely spares a glance at Tanner. "Well, you hotheads should've ended it right away! If you showed this kind of fire on the field, it could make a stronger point!"

Tanner smiles upon hearing that, but when Coach adds in a half-tone, "Especially for the likes of them," Tanner's smile changes into a wicked scowl.

"I'll teach 'em boys a lesson," says Coach, addressing Dockins. "Be sure they'll behave."

Dockins takes a deep breath. I think he'd prefer to hand all of us over to Coach to deal with, but he can't.

"Okay," Dockins says at last, and the jocks leave, following their coach. "So," the principal's attention turns fully on us. "Why is it always you?" He frowns when no one answers. "You all will face disciplinary actions, including suspension for a week, and mandatory counseling sessions," he says rather unemotionally because he knows it won't change a thing. Tanner is a pain, his headache, and he can only pray for Tanner to finally step over a certain line and face expulsion, or that Tanner will drop out of his own volition.

"Didn't know our school could afford counseling sessions," Tanner says with a smile.

Dockins eyes him with restrained anger. "You're dismissed."

Without a hitch, we all get out into the hall with smiles on our faces and an air charged with glee around us. It's always like this when you see someone with power, but still, he's powerless to stop you.