Sophia didn't give herself time to think. She didn't weigh the consequences or consider how the entire class would react. She simply acted on pure instinct, driven by a mixture of irritation, adrenaline and a sudden burst of protectiveness she didn't fully understand.
She tightened her grip around the foldable metal chair, feeling the cold steel press against her palms. The boys were still towering over Graham, their attention fixed entirely on him as he struggled on his knees. Ken raised his fist again, preparing another blow to Graham's already bruised jaw.
Sophia stepped forward with a quick, determined stride.
Her arms swung the chair in an arc wide enough that several students gasped even before it connected. The edge of the metal seat slammed into Ken's back with such force that the sound echoed around the room like a flat, sudden thunderclap. Ken's entire body lurched forward from the impact, his breath exploding out of his lungs in a painful gasp. He dropped to his hands, coughing violently as the shock ran through him.
The other boys froze for a split second, completely taken aback. No one had expected Sophia of all people to intervene with such ferocity. Ken himself looked over his shoulder with disbelief etched across his face, as though he couldn't reconcile the beautiful girl with the weapon she had just swung.
Sophia didn't stop or hesitate. Her eyes flashed with a fierce determination that none of the students had ever seen in her before. She shifted her stance and swung the chair again, this time at the nearest boy who had been gripping Graham's left arm. The metal struck the side of his face with a thudding crack that sent him collapsing backward, sprawling across the cold tiles. His head bounced once on the floor, dazing him instantly.
A wave of shock rippled through the classroom. Someone gasped loudly. Another student whispered, "She actually hit him."
Sophia lowered the chair slightly, breathing hard as she stared down the remaining boys. Even though the chair felt heavier now and her hands were trembling from the raw power of the blows she had delivered, she didn't back away. She simply stood between them and Graham, her shoulders squared and her expression unreadable, as if silently daring anyone else to move toward him.
Ken struggled to rise while holding his back, coughing and wheezing from the strike. The boy who had been hit in the face was still trying to gather his senses, blinking rapidly as he tried to sit up.
Sophia barely had time to steady her breathing after the last swing before one of the larger boys lunged toward her. He caught her wrist, twisted the chair out of her grasp and shoved her backward with a burst of irritation that made several students gasp. She stumbled but didn't fall, though her expression shifted from shock to a simmering anger that she couldn't hide.
Ken was still down on one knee, one hand pressed against his ribs as he fought to recover the air that had been slammed out of him. He wheezed, looking up with disbelief at Sophia.
"You really want to start something you can't finish?" Ken muttered, wincing as he tried to stand.
Sophia shot back, "I'm finishing the nonsense you started, not the other way around. If you think you'll walk around here acting like you own everyone, then you need to wake up."
The boy who had knocked the chair away glared at her. "Stay out of this, Sophia. This is between us and him. You don't want the kind of heat that follows."
She raised her chin stubbornly. "You boys keep imagining you are storms when most of you are barely puddles. I'll step in whenever I want."
While their exchange simmered, Graham pushed himself off the ground, coughing as he forced air back into his lungs. His vision pulsed with a deep ache from Ken's blows, yet his mind was clear, sharp and unshaken. The fight was far from over, and something in his posture made several students lean forward instinctively as if they sensed a shift that none of the attackers noticed.
Graham reached down without any rush or panic, fingers brushing across the shattered remains of the desk that had collapsed beneath him. He found two thick wooden slats among the debris, each fractured but solid enough to be used as makeshift weapons. He gripped them with both hands, testing their weight and balance with a slight turn of his wrists.
The boy nearest to him hesitated. "He actually picked those up," he muttered to the others. "Why is he acting like this is some kind of duel?"
Graham didn't bother answering. Instead, he slowly raised his head, his eyes finding each of the boys. Hailey watched him from the corner where she stood, her heart hammering loudly enough that she could hear her pulse in her ears. She whispered under her breath, "Please, just… be careful."
Ken finally staggered to his feet and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "You think a few sticks are going to make a difference?" he growled. "You're outnumbered, Don't pretend this ends any other way."
Graham just stared at them with a steady, unblinking expression.
A girl near the window whispered to her friend, "Look at his eyes. He isn't scared at all."
Another added, "This is going to get worse before it gets better."
Sophia, rubbing her wrist, stepped slightly behind Graham.
Graham finally shifted his stance, one foot sliding back, his shoulders straightening with the faintest hint of readiness. Students who had been recording earlier continued filming.
Graham breathed in and held it for a moment, steadying the lingering pain, steadying his thoughts, steadying the weight of the sticks he held like extensions of his own intent. Then he met the eyes of all four boys at once...He looked at them dead in their eyes.