NEMESIS

CHAPTER THREE — BEFORE EVERYTHING CHANGED

CHAPTER THREE — BEFORE EVERYTHING CHANGED

Three years earlier.

Luna was sixteen when she first learned that being strong did not always mean fighting.

Sometimes, it meant knowing when to fight.

Other times, it meant knowing when to walk away.

But Luna had never been particularly good at walking away.

She sat at the back of the classroom with her arms folded, staring at the rain falling beyond the windows.

It was the last period of the day.

The teacher was still writing notes on the board, but Luna had stopped copying several minutes ago.

Her mind was somewhere else.

University.

That was all she could think about.

She had spent years telling people what she wanted to become.

A paramedic.

An emergency medical responder.

Someone who could run toward danger while everyone else ran away from it.

Her father had encouraged the dream.

Her mother had worried about it.

"You want to work around accidents and blood?" her mother had asked the first time Luna told her.

Luna had laughed.

"Someone has to help the people who get injured."

Her mother had stared at her for a long time.

Then she had smiled.

"You sound exactly like your father."

Luna hadn't understood why her mother had sounded worried when she said it.

Now, sitting in the classroom, Luna smiled to herself.

She was almost done with secondary school.

University was waiting.

A new life was waiting.

Unfortunately, not everyone was happy about her future.

"Luna."

She ignored the voice.

"Luna."

Still nothing.

A hand reached across the desk and pulled her bag from the floor.

Luna looked down.

Her bag was gone.

She slowly turned around.

Three girls were sitting behind her.

At the center was Patricia.

Patricia had been making Luna's life difficult for months.

Sometimes it was her accent.

Sometimes it was her clothes.

Sometimes it was because Luna didn't join them when they gossiped about other students.

Sometimes, there didn't seem to be a reason at all.

Patricia held Luna's bag up.

"Looking for something?"

Luna stared at her.

"Give it back."

Patricia smiled.

"What?"

"My bag."

"I can't hear you."

The girls laughed.

Luna stood.

"Give me my bag."

Patricia tossed it to another girl.

The girl caught it.

"Come and get it."

Luna's eyes narrowed.

"Return my property."

"Or what?"

Luna looked at the clock.

Five minutes.

She didn't want trouble.

Not today.

She walked toward them.

"Patricia, I'm warning you."

"Oh, you're warning me?"

The classroom became quieter.

Several students turned to watch.

Patricia stood.

She was taller than Luna by a little.

"You always act like you're better than everyone."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to."

Patricia moved closer.

"You think because your father works in emergency services, you're special."

Luna's expression hardened.

"Leave my father out of this."

"Why? Is he going to come and save you?"

A few students laughed.

Luna's jaw tightened.

Patricia reached into Luna's bag and pulled out a notebook.

She opened it.

"Look at this."

She held up Luna's notes.

"Medical rubbish."

Luna stepped forward.

"Give me that."

Patricia tore one of the pages.

The sound was small.

But something inside Luna snapped.

"Why are you so angry?"

Patricia tore another page.

"Maybe because nobody likes you."

Luna grabbed the notebook.

Patricia refused to release it.

The two girls pulled in opposite directions.

Then Patricia shoved Luna.

Luna stumbled backward.

The class gasped.

Patricia laughed.

"See? You're not so strong."

Luna stared at her.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then she walked forward.

Patricia raised her hand.

The slap came quickly.

It struck Luna across the cheek.

The classroom fell completely silent.

Luna slowly turned her face back.

Her cheek burned.

Patricia smiled.

"Now what?"

Luna looked at her.

"Give me my bag."

Patricia laughed.

"No."

Luna punched her.

The sound of the impact echoed through the classroom.

Patricia stumbled backward and crashed into a desk.

Someone screamed.

The teacher turned around.

"What is going on?"

Everyone began talking at once.

"Silence!"

The teacher rushed toward them.

Patricia was holding her nose.

Blood was running between her fingers.

Luna stood completely still.

The teacher looked from Patricia to Luna.

"Luna!"

"She slapped me first."

"I don't care who started it!"

"But—"

"Office. Now."

Luna's stomach dropped.

THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE

The principal's office smelled of old books and furniture polish.

Luna sat in one chair.

Patricia sat across from her, still holding tissue against her nose.

Her mother had been called.

So had her father.

Luna stared at the floor.

The principal removed his glasses.

"Do you understand how serious this is?"

"Yes, sir."

"You punched another student."

"She slapped me."

"You could have reported her."

"I asked her to return my property."

The principal sighed.

"You are sixteen years old. You should know better."

Luna remained silent.

Patricia's mother was furious.

"She attacked my daughter!"

Luna's father arrived several minutes later.

Paul walked into the office wearing his work clothes.

He looked at Luna.

Then at Patricia.

Then at the principal.

"What happened?"

The principal explained.

Paul listened without interrupting.

When he finished, Paul looked at his daughter.

"Did you hit her?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She slapped me."

Paul nodded once.

Then he looked at the principal.

"She should be punished."

Luna looked at him, surprised.

"Daddy—"

"But," Paul continued, "the other student should also be punished for starting the physical confrontation."

The principal leaned back.

"That's what I intended to do."

"Good."

Paul turned to Luna.

"You don't solve every problem with your fist."

Luna lowered her head.

"Yes, sir."

"But you also don't allow people to treat you however they want."

She looked up.

Paul's eyes were serious.

"There is a difference between defending yourself and looking for a fight."

Luna nodded.

"I understand."

The principal sighed.

"Both students will receive a one-week suspension."

Luna's eyes widened.

"One week?"

Paul looked at her.

"Don't argue."

She closed her mouth.

Patricia's mother began protesting, but the principal remained firm.

The decision was final.

THE RIDE HOME

The ride home was silent.

Luna sat in the passenger seat.

Paul drove.

Neither spoke for almost ten minutes.

Finally, Luna said:

"Are you angry?"

"Yes."

She swallowed.

"Very?"

"Very."

Luna looked out the window.

"I'm sorry."

Paul didn't answer.

"I'm really sorry."

"I know."

Another silence.

Then Paul said:

"You are grounded."

Luna turned.

"For how long?"

"One week."

"But I'm suspended for one week."

"Then you will enjoy a very quiet week."

"Daddy."

"No friends visiting."

"Daddy."

"No going out."

"But—"

"No arguments."

Luna sighed.

"Fine."

Paul glanced at her.

"And Luna?"

"Yes?"

"I'm proud that you defended yourself."

She looked at him.

"But I'm not proud of the way you did it."

Luna smiled faintly.

"Okay."

Paul smiled too.

Neither of them knew that years later, Luna would remember that conversation differently.

She would remember how carefully her father had chosen his words.

How he had spoken about violence.

How he had told her there was a difference between defending yourself and looking for a fight.

And she would wonder whether he had been talking about more than a schoolyard fight.