Kyle's momentum carried him straight into a support beam with a hollow clang. Trent's face contorted with rage. "You're dead." He charged like a bull, both fists swinging. Jamal's training took over.
He sprawled backward, catching Trent's wild rush with a textbook hip throw. The basketball captain flipped through the air, landing hard on his back. Before he could rise, Jamal had him in a careful mount position, controlling but not striking. "It's over," Jamal said firmly. "I'm going to let you up. Then we're all walking out of here."
In her hiding spot, Lily's hands trembled as she kept filming. The live stream counter showed thousands of viewers already, comments flooding in faster than she could read them. Brent staggered to his feet, holding his shoulder. Kyle sat dazed against the beam. But Trent wasn't finished.
The moment Jamal released him, he scrambled up and pulled something from his jacket, a small knife glinting in the phone lights. "Think you're better than us?" Trent snarled, slashing wildly. "Let's see your kung fu handle this." Jamal's eyes narrowed. When the knife came at his face, he didn't back away.
Instead, he stepped in close, trapping Trent's knife arm in a precise wrist lock. With careful pressure, he forced Trent's fingers open. The knife clattered to the ground. "It's jutsu," Jamal said calmly, maintaining the hold as Trent grimaced in pain. "And I trained for weapons defense, too."
The crowd noise above suddenly seemed louder. Footsteps pounded on the bleachers. Adult voices called out, getting closer. "Secur's coming!" Kyle shouted, scrambling to his feet. "We got to go."
Jamal released Trent, who stumbled backward, clutching his wrist. The three bullies fled toward the far exit, leaving their phones and the knife behind. Moving quickly, Jamal untied Marcus. His friend rubbed his wrists, tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," Marcus whispered. "They jumped me in the hallway. I tried to..."
"It's okay." Jamal helped him up. "You're not hurt?" "No, just scared and mad at myself for falling for it." Lily emerged from her hiding spot, phone still recording. "Don't be. Look."
She showed them the stream. "Over 10,000 viewers now. The comments are full of outrage and support. Everyone saw what really happened. They can't lie their way out this time." Flashlight beams cut through the darkness.
Security guards and teachers appeared at both ends of the bleachers, followed by Principal Morris and, Jamal's heart lifted, his mother. Simone rushed forward and pulled him into a fierce hug. "Are you okay? I called security the moment you left." She held him at arm's length, checking for injuries. "Did they hurt you?"
"I'm fine, Mom." Jamal managed a small smile. "They're the ones who need ice packs." "And the whole school needs to see this," Lily added, holding up her phone. "The whole internet already is." The police cruisers' lights flashed red and blue against the gym's brick walls.
Two officers led Trent, Kyle, and Brent toward separate cars while Detective Martinez interviewed Jamal and Marcus near the bleachers. Lily stood nearby, her phone still recording everything. "And you're saying they lured you here by threatening your friend?" Martinez asked, jotting notes in her pad. "Yes, ma'am." Jamal pointed to the duct tape and knife that evidence texts were photographing.
"They had Marcus tied up when I arrived. Then Trent pulled the knife." Simone's hand tightened on Jamal's shoulder. "My son defended himself using his martial arts training. Nothing more. The video confirms that." Martinez nodded toward Lily.
"Smart thinking with the live stream, young lady. Makes our job much easier." Principal Morris hovered at the edge of the group, his face ashen. "Perhaps we should discuss this in my office." "Perhaps you should explain why these boys weren't suspended after the locker room incident," Simone cut in, her voice sharp. "Or why you ignored my calls about the harassment."
Before Morris could respond, an expensive-looking SUV screeched into the parking lot. A tall man in a business suit stormed out, Trent's father, Richard Walker. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded, marching toward them. "Why are you arresting my son?" "Mr. Walker." Martinez stepped forward.
"Your son and his friends assaulted two students, used racial slurs, and brandished a weapon. It's all on video." "Video can be manipulated," Walker sneered. "My son is the victim here. That boy attacked him. I want him arrested."
Lily held up her phone. "It was live streamed, Mr. Walker. Over 50,000 people watched it happen in real time, including the part where Trent pulled a knife." Walker's face reened. "I'll sue. I'll have everyone's jobs for this. Morris, call the school board right now."
"I think the school board will be very interested in this footage," Simone said calmly, "along with the previous video of your son assaulting Jamal and the racist messages and the principal's failure to act." More vehicles were arriving, news vans with satellite dishes, parents who'd seen the stream, community members drawn by the commotion. A reporter thrust a microphone toward Principal Morris. "Sir, can you comment on allegations that the school ignored repeated incidents of racial harassment?" Morris backed away, tugging at his collar.
"No comment at this time. We take all student safety concerns very seriously." "Then why didn't you investigate when these boys attacked Jamal in the locker room?" another reporter called out. "Or when they vandalized his locker with slurs," shouted someone in the growing crowd. Walker grabbed his phone, pacing and shouting at his lawyer.