He frowned and lifted one shoulder. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.” Back to scowling, he tossed out, “But I’m not sorry for what I did.”

Being a single mom raising a teenage son had me feeling like debris the size of cars kept falling from the sky. And every day, I narrowly avoided being hit. One of these days, though, I was worried I’d be outright crushed.

“And why’d you do it?” I asked, my voice straining.

Colin focused on the hand he’d used to punch Zach. Thank God Colin hadn’t badly hurt Zach, or I’d be bailing him out of jail. I’d consider a one-week suspension a gift.

“I couldn’t stand by and let him . . .” He allowed his sentence to remain hanging in the air.

I knew him well enough to know he’d eventually complete that sentence if I gave him time.

So, I stood there patiently, across from a boy who’d grown into a handsome man overnight. He was sixteen and towered over me at six feet tall. He even had scruff covering his cheeks and jawline, a jaw that was far too chiseled for a teenager.

“Zach’s a piece of shit like his father. And his old man didn’t press charges because Mrs. Pope must’ve shown him why I swung at his son in the first place.”

And there it is. The truth. I just needed him to continue laying it out for me. Build that skyscraper back up, so it wasn’t falling on me anymore. Give me a reason to understand he wasn’t misguided, just a little lost. To explain why I had to grovel to that piece of shit (he was right about that) an hour ago.

“I had a hall pass, and I was on my way to take a piss when I saw Zach shove his girlfriend against the lockers. He smacked her, then told me to get lost and act like I didn’t see anything.” He paused, letting his admission sink in, and the sad image planted roots, turning into understanding. “I couldn’t do that.”

My stepbrother taught Colin self-defense a few years ago, and he’d taken those lessons to heart. I just never anticipated that he’d use them to get into fights.

“You should have reported him instead. The cameras would’ve backed up what you saw. They’d suspend him, not you.”

He scoffed. “She did see the footage.”

“After you beat him up.”

He shoved the sleeves of his black shirt up, exposing his corded forearms, as if itching to hit Zach again.

“His dad probably threw money at the problem, so he didn’t also end up suspended. Or arrested, like he should’ve been for laying a hand on his girlfriend.”