Sharp and swift, Spencer shot towards him, scowling. Hadley did not turn away. Their eyes met; Derain green, flashing. That bright, bitter face.
He thought of the bruise forming on the right side of Spencer's jawbone, how ugly it would be.
Spencer was the first to look away.
"So, what exactly happened?" Mr Martinez pressed, eyes darting between them as he leaned back in his chair, swaying right to left, left to right.
"It was lunch and I was standing by my locker," Spencer began impassively, the words monotonous in their slow march. He was doing it on purpose— he always did things like that on purpose. "Then, Hadley came up to me so I said 'hey' and he punched me in the face."
Principal Martinez glanced dubiously towards Hadley, who had eventually torn his eyes away from Spencer, and asked, slowly, sceptically, "Why?"
He took another glance towards Spencer who had shuffled in his seat and taken his arms off of the arm of the chair, instead bringing them closer to his side, his gaze locked on the light carpet. He made no sound and held the ice pack firmly against his jaw, his face expressionless and gaze focused on nothing.
"Well?" Mr Martinez insisted.
When Spencer did not look back, Hadley turned away. The distant, echoic silence was creeping back into the room and he supposed that it was because the whole thing seemed too personal to talk about. It was as though it was some gentle, fragile creature that would break and shatter upon its name being spoken. 
Before he could answer, Principal Martinez wryly suggested, "Lover's quarrel?"
He opened his mouth and then closed it without saying anything. Then, slowly, almost cautiously, he replied, "Yes."
Mr Martinez's eyebrows shot up and his eyes grew wide.
There was a beat of silent, tense and tight.
Martinez turned towards Spencer and cleared his throat. "Anything that the prosecution would like to add?"
In his thin, uncomfortable chair, Hadley resisted the useless desire to shuffle around and drew his attention back towards the window. He tried to catch a glimpse of the trees. He tried to count his heart beats.
Without looking up, blushing slightly, Spencer shrugged. 
After another stretch of silence, Principal Martinez sighed and declared, "Well, then, Hadley, if you've nothing to add either, then two– no, three– no– uh– hm. Yeah, we'll do two. Hadley, two weeks of detention and consider yourself officially on probation. Any more fighting within your detention-probation period, then that's a call back to my office and potential suspension. But for now, two weeks. Yes?"
"Yes," he agreed with a quick nod of his head. He glanced towards his right hand and flexed his fingers.
"And Spencer," he continued, smiling a tight, bored smile. "Whatever you did to get punched in the face, try to do less of it."
Spencer glowered.
"Alright, well," he announced suddenly, clapping his hands together. "I think we're all done here, boys. So, you know," — he smiled again — "get out. Off you go. Back to class."
Spencer was like a bullet. As soon as he sensed dismissal, he was on his feet and out of the office, the door slamming shut behind him without so much as a glance.
Glancing once more at Mountains at Collioure, considering those merging shapes and the unchanging trees, Hadley forced himself to his feet, glanced politely towards his vaguely amused principal and sauntered out of the office, closing the door with a quiet click behind him.
As he began to walk to class, he passed the nurse's office. Spencer was closing the door, empty-handed and with a large, red bruise on his jaw.
Something stirred in his stomach when he saw it; that violent new accessory. He came to a stop, unable to tear his gaze away from what he had done and when he could feel a snapping remark rising from Spencer, he said, "It's going to look even uglier tomorrow."
"Don't worry," he replied swiftly, contemptuously. His green eyes were bright and cool. His arms were locked at either side of his body, his hands formed in vague fists, fingernails digging into the pad of his thumb. "Your girlfriend won't mind."
"No," Hadley agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady and heavy. "I imagine she'll love it."
Without speaking, Spencer eyed him with something akin to Mr Martinez's curious impatience and their gazes locked. There was a quick pulse in his jaw and a brisk movement passed through his throat as if he was trying to swallow any of his anger back down into his body.
When he finally spoke again, his voice was much calmer, much quieter than it had been before. "I can't believe you chose to do this on the day that we share an afternoon class." Without bothering to wait for a response, he turned his gaze away and began walking slowly back to class.
Falling in step beside him, Hadley shrugged and said, "As good a day as any."
"Principal Martinez should've enrolled you in some kind of anger management class," he muttered, daring to tenderly graze his bruise with the back of his fore and middle finger.
"I'm not angry," Hadley promised lightly, as though attempting to offer some kind of assurance. 
"Of course you're angry," Spencer snapped, shaking his head dismissively and staring straight ahead. A shadow of irritation passed through his eyes. "We both know why. It's very black and white. I get it. I deserved it."
As they walked, he looked around the hallway, staring at the posters and the pale lockers and the trophies behind the glass and the banners as if it was the first time he'd seen them. It was cold and darker than it should've been because there was nowhere for the sunlight to stream in.
"I'm not angry," he insisted softly, his voice almost a whisper.
As if ready to burst with fresh anger, Spencer turned hastily towards him and opened his mouth, brows furrowed and eyes wide, then closed it again. He stopped, relaxed his brow and tilted his head away from Hadley. "No," he replied curiously. "You're not anymore. But you were."
"I wasn't ever angry," he remarked, stopping in front of their classroom door. He threw Spencer a smile and murmured, "I just wanted to know what it would feel like to punch someone."
The whispers started as soon as he walked into class. Glances were exchanged. Some mouths fell open at the sight of Spencer who had followed him in, his gaze burning. They swiftly took their seats and the whispers persisted and Mrs Taylor tried to get everyone to shut up.
When Hadley took his seat, people looked at him, amused and curious and disgusted, and he didn't see any of them. He watched the back of Spencer's head, the shortened hair at the nape of his neck, the slender hand brushing against that striking red bruise. 
It was only when he noticed more people looking at him that he turned his attention instead to the window, happy to find the sky where he left it. He watched the clouds passing, the white sunlight still breaking through like a shining needle. Somewhere, the birds were still whistling.
note
hello and thank you for reading the first chapter! it always makes me both excited and nervous to start a new book so I hope to have your company throughout this new journey :')
as always, any votes or comments are always appreciated. I love responding to any thoughts or feedback! thank you again and I hope to see you next time <3
originally published
01. february. 2025.