KEIFER'S POV
The flag hosting area felt like a sanctuary—open quad, flags rippling lazily in the breeze, a brief escape from schoolyard wars. Me, Yuri, and the rest of Section E clustered there, tension crackling despite the calm.
"That Jay-jay… turns out she's the cousin of that bastard Aries," Yuri growled, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles whitened.
Veins popped on his forearms, the kind you get from too many shadow punches.
I should be the one fuming—she'd been yanked from me, right when that electric spark in her eyes promised more. But Yuri's fury twisted something in me. Was this about section loyalty... or did he still carry a torch for Ella, projecting it onto his cousin?
"She needs to bounce from our section ASAP," I said, voice steady, masking the heat rising in my chest.
"...We can't trust her agenda. Aries's blood runs toxic."
"Keifer!"
Edrix burst from the path, sprinting like hellhounds nipped his heels, waving crumpled papers. Sweat beaded his brow; he'd clearly hauled ass.
"What'd you dig up?" I demanded, snatching them before he fully stopped.
He gulped air, then thrust the stack forward.
Jay-jay's school records—one thin sheet from our principal, one thick file from her old school.
"Current one's light—she's fresh meat here," Edrix rasped.
"But the old one? Damn."
"How many offenses?" someone from the back piped up, voice cracking.
Edrix swallowed hard.
"Eighty-six."
We all froze. Eighty-six?! Even Section E's combined rap sheet—me included—didn't hit half that.
I flipped to it. Her record was a nightmare scroll, worse than my juvie-worthy rap sheet. A chronicle of controlled fury, each line a red flag screaming danger.
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 1
—Stabbing a classmate with a pen.
—Right through the hand
I read aloud, eyebrow arched. Gutsy. Reckless. Kinda hot, if I was honest—but I shoved that thought down.
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 2
—Punching two boys in the locker room
—Broken nose, blacked eye"
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 3
—Fist to a girl's mouth in the hall
—Blood and chipped tooth.
I kept going, each one worse
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 4
—Smashing a desk over a kid's arm in math class
—Dislocated arm
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 5
—Gambling ring in the bathroom
—Caught with cards and cash.
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 10
—Throwing a chair at a teacher's aide during detention.
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 15
—Leading a cafeteria brawl
—Five kids down.
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 32
—Extortion note slipped under a bully's locker.
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 74
—Pipe to seniors' ribs behind the gym.
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 80
—Ambush on three seniors
—cracked ribs with a pipe.
"Fight after fight," I skimmed faster, pulse kicking up. This wasn't rebellion; it was warfare. The list blurred into a warpath.
I was stunned — but the last one iced my veins. It hit like ice water. I read it twice before whispering,
# OFFENSE NUMBER : 86
—Kicking and punching a boy in an empty stairwell
—nearly to death.
We all froze solid. Death?!
I continued reading,
"—He was hospitalized for internal bleeding, in coma"
Even I swallowed hard.
"She did that?"
Yuri breathed, eyes wide—like he'd bet on her being all bark.
Edrix leaned in.
"Notice anything off? Fights, always outnumbered. No punishments listed. I called the school—they stonewalled on full details."
Everyone stayed silent, the weight of it sinking in like lead. Eighty-six hits from a girl? A girl did these? Not some roided-up thug, but Jay-jay— with her sly smirk and deceptively slim frame. We'd pegged her as Aries's sidekick, maybe a flirt. But this? She was a storm in sneakers, dismantling bigger kids like it was Tuesday.
Yuri broke first, muttering under his breath, "A chick taking down dudes like that? No way... she's gotta be juiced or something."
Edrix shook his head, eyes narrowing.
"Nah, pattern screams cover-up. School protecting her—or someone higher up. Family pull?"
The quad felt smaller, breeze turning chill despite the sun. My gut twisted—admiration warring with wariness. If she turned that fury on us...
"Guys!"
Rory jogged up, phone glued to his hand, face lit with that hunter's gleam—snapping us out of it.
"Jay-jay's mom is Aries's mom's half-sister," he panted, shoving hair from his eyes.
"What else?" I pressed, adrenaline sharpening my focus.
Intel like this? Pure leverage.
"Broken home central. Dad ghosted years ago. Mom's a serial bride—fourth hubby last count. Jay-jay bounced to grandma's until last month, when Aries's mom yanked her into their house."
"So they've barely lived together," Yuri countered, arms crossed.
"...Doesn't prove Aries planted her as a spy."
"Aries has no reason—"
"Wrong"
Yuri snapped, finger jabbing my chest.
"We're his nightmare. You're his nightmare. You've pounded him bloody—in school, out. He's terrified, Keifer. This cousin gig? Perfect plan."
He wasn't wrong. I'd left Aries bruised and limping enough times; fear bred schemes.
But Jay-jay spying? Her fire felt too raw, too personal. Still, doubt gnawed—could I turn her?
"Keifer..." Rory scrolled his phone, voice dropping. "Jay-jay and Aries? Oil and fire. No love."
He shoved the phone over. Texts, rumors—Aries's facade cracking. Leverage gold, but messy. I need deeper dirt to weaponize it right.
She is a great opportunity to make Aries clear his debts.
Aries, you're now in big trouble...
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