I let go and looked at him calmly.

Neil clutched his wrist, my steady gaze forcing him back half a step. The obscenity on the tip of his tongue died in his throat.

He hadn't expected me to fight back. He definitely hadn't expected me to be that strong.

In the corridor, he walked ahead of me, glancing back every few seconds to glare. His mouth, though, never stopped running. "Shameless little punk. No manners. No upbringing."

I stopped walking.

He stopped too, eyeing me warily.

"Watch your mouth."

My voice was quiet. He flinched back half a step, his lips trembling twice before he swallowed whatever he'd been about to say.

Principal Finch called from behind us. "Let's go, let's go. The whole field is waiting."

The athletic field was packed. Over two thousand students stood in neat rows by class, a dark sea of uniforms buzzing with whispers.

Neil shoved me onto the stage. He put real force into it, trying to send me sprawling, but I planted my feet and didn't so much as sway.

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face.

Vincent strode to the microphone and cleared his throat. "Today, we are holding an emergency all-school assembly!"

The field fell silent.

"This young man—" He jabbed a finger at my face. "—was caught harassing our Ivy League track student, Gretchen Delgado, in the cafeteria!"

The crowd erupted. Students leaned into each other, murmuring.

Neil snatched the microphone. "Gretchen Delgado is my daughter. First place in the citywide practice exam! The pride of this school! Our ticket to the Ivy League!"

He wheeled on me, his finger nearly touching my nose.

"There have been punks like him before. They all wanted to ruin my daughter. Ruin this school's future! What are they? Nobodies. They're not even worthy of speaking to her."

Vincent took the microphone back, softening his tone, putting on a magnanimous act.

"Apologize in front of everyone. Write a letter of guarantee. If your attitude is satisfactory, I might consider not expelling you."

I looked at that sanctimonious face and couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't even know who I am, and you're demanding an apology?"

Neil exploded. "Who are you? Who could you possibly be? You're nothing but a shameless little thug!"

His rage boiled over. He charged at me, hand swinging for my face.

I sidestepped. His palm cut through empty air. His momentum carried him forward, and he staggered two steps, nearly pitching headfirst off the stage.

Laughter erupted from the crowd below.

Neil's face turned crimson.

"What are you laughing at?!" he screamed at the students, then spun back toward me, eyes wild with something unhinged.

He dug a red marker out of his pocket and twisted off the cap.

"Think you're tough? Think you can keep dodging?"

He advanced on me, marker raised like a weapon.

"I'm going to write 'THUG' across your face! Something you'll never wash off! Let the whole school see exactly what you are!"

The laughter died instantly.

Someone sucked in a sharp breath. Voices called out that he'd gone too far.

The marker tip was an inch from my cheek when I drove my foot into his midsection and sent him crashing to the ground. Neil let out a strangled scream, his face draining of all color.

With my other hand, I pulled my credentials from my pocket and held them in front of his eyes.

"Read it."

He squinted, leaned closer. Then his eyes blew wide.

The badge read, plain as day: Colin Simmons, Deputy Director, City Education Bureau.

"You— You—" His lips shook. Every trace of blood vanished from his face.

I let go.

His legs gave out. He collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

I turned to face the two thousand students below, raised my credentials high, and let my voice carry across the field.

"My name is Colin Simmons. Deputy Director of the City Education Bureau."

Dead silence across the entire assembly.

Vincent Finch froze for three full seconds. Then he laughed.

"Do you think we're children?"

Neil's confidence surged back in an instant. "Exactly! That badge is obviously a fake!"

Vincent sneered, looking Colin up and down. "Deputy Director of the City Education Bureau? How old are you, even? You're clearly some teenager!"

Neil leaned in close to inspect the badge, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "The counterfeiting these days is really something. Almost looks real. If I hadn't seen the genuine article before, you might've actually fooled me."

Vincent turned to the crowd below the stage. "Academic Affairs! Look up which class this 'Colin Simmons' belongs to!"

The head of the Academic Affairs Office pulled out the student roster, flipped through it, and looked up. "Principal, I've checked. There's no one by that name."

Neil jabbed a finger at Colin's face, his voice shrill and cutting.

"I knew it! You're some delinquent who snuck in from outside!"

He was gaining steam now, his volume climbing with every word. "Probably from one of those vocational schools nearby! Snuck into our academy to harass female students! I've seen plenty of lowlifes like you!"

The students in the audience began to stir. Some whispered to each other. Some craned their necks to get a better look. A few furrowed their brows.

But Neil didn't care.

He was practically vibrating with excitement. "Look at him—dressed up all nice, trying to pass himself off as somebody. He's nothing but a thug! Forged credentials, infiltrated a top-tier school, specifically to harass our best students!"

He spun toward the crowd and bellowed, "Campus Security! Where the hell is Campus Security? Get up here and restrain this punk!"

The head of security jogged up the stage steps with two guards in tow. The three of them took positions around Colin but didn't lay a hand on him.

Probably because they'd watched him kick Neil to the ground moments earlier and weren't eager to test their luck.

Neil sidled up to Vincent, his voice deliberately loud enough for the microphone to catch. "Principal, this kind of street trash—forging credentials, sneaking into a school, harassing our Ivy League candidates—we need to call the police! We have to call the police! Send him to juvenile detention!"

Vincent nodded, his expression a mask of righteous authority as he pointed at Colin. "Who are you, really? Tell the truth right now, or I'm calling 911!"

Colin looked at him calmly and spoke each word with measured precision. "I already told you. I'm the Deputy Director of the City Education Bureau."

Neil let out a derisive snort. "Still sticking to that story? You're what—barely out of high school? How could you possibly be a Deputy Director? Take a look at yourself. Do you look like a grown man in any position of authority?"

Vincent's sneer deepened as he sized Colin up again. "He's right. What kind of Deputy Director shows up at a school alone? No driver. No staff. No entourage. Who exactly do you think you're fooling?"

Neil jumped back in. "Call the police! We have to call the police! This kind of delinquent is a cancer on society. Juvenile detention is exactly where he belongs!"

Vincent pulled out his phone. In front of over two thousand students, he dialed 911.

"Hello, 911? This is Vincent Finch, principal of Evergreen Academy. We've apprehended an individual on campus who forged Education Bureau credentials and infiltrated the school to harass female students. He's severely disrupted our academic operations. Yes—please send officers immediately."

He hung up, folded his arms across his chest, and stared at Colin with smug satisfaction.

Neil planted his hands on his hips, chin tilted high.

"Just you wait. When the cops get here, you'll be the one crying! Forging a government official's credentials—that's enough to put you away for a good long while!"

He turned to the audience, projecting his voice across two thousand students. "Everyone, take a good look! This is what happens when you harass our top students! Let this be a lesson—if anyone else gets any funny ideas, this is your future!"

Colin stood on that stage, the corner of his mouth curving upward. He didn't say a word.

Neil saw the smile and it enraged him. He stormed forward, getting right in Colin's face. "You think this is funny? Let's see if you're still smiling when they drag you into the station!"

Vincent moved in too, his voice dropping to something low and threatening. "Forging government credentials—that's two to three years minimum. Son, your life is over."

I looked at him, dripping with mock terror. "Oh no, I'm so scared!"

But Neil actually thought I was frightened. His voice pitched higher. "What's the matter? Scared now? Too late! You were pretty tough a minute ago, weren't you? Finally figured out you're in over your head?"

I nodded. "Sure. Let's wait and see."

Police sirens wailed in the distance.

Neil practically leaped into the air, jabbing a finger toward the school gates. "Hear that?! The cops are here! You're done!"

Vincent Finch straightened his tie, squared his shoulders, and prepared to greet the officers.

A black sedan and three police cruisers rolled through the school gates.

Neil pointed at the convoy and screamed at me. "See that?! Three cruisers! They're all here for you!"

I stood with my arms crossed, the smile on my face unchanged.

The man who stepped out of the black sedan was Geoffrey Chavez, Director of the City Education Bureau.

His expression was stone. A cold fury radiated off him in waves, and a squad of officers filed out behind him.

Neil jabbed his finger at me and shouted at the approaching officers. "Officers! That's him! That's the punk! He forged an Education Bureau ID to sneak into our school and harass my daughter! Arrest him!"

Director Chavez didn't spare him a glance. He walked straight up onto the stage.

He stopped in front of me, looked me over head to toe, and only after confirming I was unharmed did he speak.

"Deputy Director Simmons, are you alright? The second I got that call, I knew something had gone wrong."

Dead silence.

Every sound in the courtyard evaporated.

Neil's finger froze in midair.

"What did you just call him?!"