Chapter 4 

"I told you before—I hate bullies and those who hurt the weak." His voice was sharp, barely able to contain his rage. "Leave now. He won't be out for long, and if you're still here. I might take things too far trying to protect you."

He couldn’t bear to look directly at me as he spoke; I could feel the fury radiating from him.

I rushed out just as the gym teacher rounded the corner to check on Brent. The gym teacher and D had been friends since last year, he had told me once.

If it had been another teacher, D would have been expelled or faced much worse punishment than he did.

The next day, Becky told me about a boy knocking the heavy metal gym doors off their hinges. She said it looked like "him."

I hadn’t told her that "him" was D, nor did I mention that I finally knew who he was. I had only talked about him occasionally since summer school ended.

"Beck, there’s no way," I said, uncertainty creeping into my voice. 

I knew he was strong and had grown a bit since I last saw him, but even after all I had witnessed, could he really have done such a thing? He was still small compared to most guys our age. 

"I don't think that is possible, even for a grown man. I Protested to Beck."

Rumors had said the door had a large slit down it where it had broken completely in half! They had to replace the whole thing. In the meantime, we had to use the side door of the gymnasium.  Unfortunately, they had to order a new one. So it would take a while.

I was tempted; curiosity got the best of me, and after lunch, I decided to check it out.

By then, people were buzzing over the rumors. Statements flying about the guy responsible. Some kids even claimed they knew who it was.

I was in deep thought, overthinking, and trying to analyze the sheer force required to accomplish all this, staring at the devastation of the door on the ground. 

"Hey!"—D exclaimed. He had snuck up behind me unnoticed and nearly made me jump from my skin.

"Jesus!" I gasped. "You gave me a heart attack!"

"Are you scared of me now?" he asked, his head lowered, his eyes filled with sadness.

"No," I replied quickly.  "I am just amazed that someone your size could do this." I let out a small but awkward chuckle, offering a half-hearted smile to lighten the mood.

Lifting his head slightly, I could see the peak of a slight smile; he said, "You know what they say—big things come in small packages," he joked.

"That's very true," I said as we laughed together. 

I turned back to the demolished remains of the door. "I never thought I’d see it like this... completely destroyed. I can barely open it with all my weight pushing against it. And you—you just tore it apart so easily. It’s astonishing."

I examined the massive split in the metal, tracing it with my fingers. "Did you hit it repeatedly to break it like this?"

"No," he admitted. "It was just one hit when I walked out. I didn’t mean to break it; I just wanted to open the door." He laughed. "After Brent tried to hurt you, I guess I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know my own strength."

"Wow," I murmured. "That kind of strength needs to be trained and controlled. You should consider joining a dojo and finding a master to guide you." 

"By the way, thanks again for helping me—"My words caught in my throat as I noticed his hands. "Are you okay?" I asked, Seeing his knuckles were raw and red. "Oh my! Let me see," I demanded, grabbing his hand before he could protest.

The blood on his hand showed me that he was human, at the very least.  His punch hadn’t been without some consequence.

"Haha, yeah, you should see the other guy," he joked sarcastically. 'In a funny voice as if quoting some cheap movie line.'

"You’re a dork with a capital D," I laughed. "But seriously, next time, be careful." I scolded him. 

I pulled out some bandages from my backpack. Since my legs were weak, I often fell, so I always carried them with me. "These come in handy," I said as I began to wrap his hand.

I continued to ramble on nervously. I always get pretty banged up, so I wear these long socks," I said as I finished wrapping his hand. 

Once I finished, he flexed his fingers and gave me an approving look.

Then, with a crooked smile, he said, "Next time, it won’t hurt as much when I hit a fool." 

"No!" I burst out laughing. "D, it’s for healing, not for cushioning your punches!"

"Sorry, I had to lighten things up again. It was getting too serious." 

He grew quiet, lowering his gaze. "I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I didn’t mean for you to see... the monster inside." His voice was heavy. "But when I looked into your eyes and saw the fear, it only made me angrier."

His gaze changed as he hesitated before continuing. "The look in your eyes. You didn’t even fight back. You just—accepted it. Why?" 

He looked at me with such concern. This was another side of him.  I had not seen this soft side of him before.

"Because I’m used to it," I admitted. "I’ve always been the black sheep, the target. I knew it was only a matter of time before things escalated. I can’t fight, so what’s the point? It would just get me hurt worse.

He frowned. "I’m sorry you’ve had to live that way. You’re cool, and you’re beautiful. I don’t say that to just anyone." He said with an awkward smile. "Just because you’re small doesn’t mean you should let people walk all over you. For once, stand up for yourself. Prove something to someone." 

His voice carried a new conviction. "I may be small, but the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I’ll always stand up for those in need. But you should be on your guard next time. Try to prevent it from happening. I don’t want to see you get hurt."

"What do you mean," "stop it before it happens?"

"You’re small, which makes you a walking target. They assume you're weak as well. So make them see you differently, stronger than you are, and they might back off."

I went home that day, thinking about all the bullies I had encountered. D’s words echoed in my head, and how I was a so-called.  'Walking target.' 

D’s words resonated in my head as I walked down the street. 

That night, when I got home, I stood in front of my mirror, took off my glasses, and placed them on the table beside me.

The next morning, I took a long, hot bath. Afterward, I cut my hair and put it up. I carefully matched my clothes, added some hoop earrings, and applied a touch of makeup.

I walked out the door for school. One last check: as I looked in the mirror, I saw someone new—someone tougher, like a gangster. That was the goal, after all.

People sure were looking at me differently.

"Good morning, Beck," I greeted my best friend.

"Whoa. What happened to you?" She asked, looking me up and down.

"I’m trying something new. An experiment, you could say." I grinned. "Or rather, I took some advice from a friend.  I hope I can eliminate my old bullies if this pays off."

I told her everything that had happened with Brent. Her jaw dropped—not just at what Brent had done, but at what D had done to the gym door.

"No fair! You never told me any of this before!" she scolded me.

"I wanted you to know officially. So, yeah—it was him. Doesn't that sound wild?"

"Girl, he’s like some masked hero!" She gushed in a girly school voice, as she was all happy for me. 

"Yes," I laughed; she sounded as happy as I was.  Before, with the rush of everything, I had been so overwhelmed that I hadn’t had the chance to let everything truly sink in.

I was probably feeding off her energy. But it was cool to finally let her know who he was.  I don’t know why I didn’t tell her sooner.  I squealed with delight at the realization of sharing this moment with my best friend.

Then I straightened my shirt and cleared my throat. "Now that that’s out of my system," I said, trying to regain some composure, trying to be serious. I was on cloud nine. It was time to reset back to reality.

"So, what will you do next?" Beck asked me.

I looked at her, lost and dumbfounded.  "What do you mean?" I said, puzzled. 

"Did you not know?" she asked sarcastically. "You wanted to thank him and ask him out last year, remember?" 

"I did thank him, but about the other part?  Well....Hum…"

I blushed and looked away from her. My face turned red this time, thinking about D and me together. 

"I did not think, at first, I would ever see him again because months had passed.  I thought maybe he may have moved.  That's also why I was okay with going out with that jerk, Brent. I mostly thought of getting Brent off my back."

I tried to change the subject, avoiding Beck's question.

"I was so caught up in the moment the last time we met that I never thought to try asking him out."

I blushed, looking away. "I don’t know where to start."

She grinned mischievously. "Then let’s devise a plan!"