Free Chris Wakes Up by Sean Platt, David Wright Page A

and filling the locker room with Noella’s screaming on repeat. 
    Mako was rounding the opposite row of lockers, coming from the restroom. Vicky turned toward her, took the phone back from Jenny, then held it up for Mako to see. 
    “Look, Mako, your best friend is on YouTube!” Vicky held the phone up and pressed play. 
    The Noella in the video screamed. 
    “You delete that!” Mako shouted, stepping into the huddle until she was just inches from Vicky’s face.
    “Or what?” Vicky said, taking a step forward. She was easily six inches taller than Mako, and athletic while Mako was petite. The number of girls swelled around them at the prospect of a fight. 
    Noella ran to Mako. “Forget about it,” she said, pulling Mako from the crowd. “This bitch isn’t worth it.” 
    Noella turned and walked back to her locker, holding Mako’s hand behind her. They made it halfway there when Vicky said, “I bet they’re gonna sneak back to the showers together. Boys don’t want them, but at least they have each other! She love her long time!” 
     Vicky laughed hysterically. The chorus of sheeple echoed her mania, and the cork finally popped from years of Noella’s bottled rage.
    Noella’s fists curled into balls, her lip twitched, and she could feel the rage stirring deep in her gut. An inhuman growl fled her lips as she turned toward Vicky, then ran at her screaming, knocking her cell phone to the floor, and punching her hard in the face.
    “Becca’s not here to save you this time,” Vicky screamed, rubbing the splotch of crimson on her left cheek for a second before shoving Noella back and into the lockers. As Noella fell back, Vicky jumped her.
    They fell to the ground, swinging, scratching, and kicking as the girls around them shouted, “ FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!!!”
    The crowd receded, giving the girls room to roll around on the floor,  as an evil trinity of Vicky’s girls held Mako’s arms and kept her from jumping in or stopping the fight.
    But no one was holding Coach Carla, who rushed at the girls and pulled them off one another and split them apart. Coach Carla tossed them each toward opposite lockers, and yelled at the other girls to get to class.
    Vicky had a nasty bruise on her left cheek, and a good scratch right next to it. The back of Noella’s head throbbed where Vicky had landed two punches, but other than some hair pulling, Vicky hadn’t hurt her too bad. If there was a winner of this fight, it was Noella by a landslide.
    Though, whatever pride she felt at getting a few good hits in faded when she saw Coach Carla’s eyes.
    Coach Carla gave Noella a sympathetic look, and Noella wasn’t sure which stung worse — the look of pity, or the look of disappointment which followed. Coach Carla sent them both to the dean’s office. 
     
    **
     
    Noella was silent as Dean Dinnen read her the riot act, and simply nodded when he asked if Coach Carla’s story was true. Per school policy, Noella was sent back out to the office to wait for her parent or guardian. 
    Vicky’s mom appeared just before sixth period, petting the back of her daughter’s head and showering her with baby talk, while shooting Noella the evil eye as if to say, “How dare you hit my precious baby?” 
    Noella had to wait until 45 minutes after the final bell for Josie and Randy to show. 
    Josie’s eyes were bloodshot and leaking, though it probably had a lot more to do with her near-constant sneezing and rattling cough than the call from the dean. If anything, Josie seemed sad and slightly hollow, silently sorry for the life of misery Noella was forced to endure. But there was also a look of relief when the dean told her about the fight. Noella wasn’t sure why, but the dean failed to mention what started the fight — an almost repeat of the incident, which must’ve been a huge relief to Josie. 
    If Josie had compassion in her eyes, Randy had whatever the opposite was. She had gotten in trouble and wasted his time,