Orion observed a black scuff mark on the floor—which ran from the front-left leg of his chair up along the length of his foot—and wondered how it had gotten there. Maybe it was left behind by rubber shoe soles or wheels, but on closer inspection, it was also plausible that dragging the chair up to the wall could've caused it. His eyes shifted to the chair's rubber foot, and his theory was proven true. Now that his thoughts were no longer occupied by something as meaningless as a scuff mark, Orion was forced to think of the situation at hand.

The tension in the waiting room was almost palpable; it was an uncomfortable burden which rested on everybody's shoulders. Nobody dared to so much as shift in their seats, for fear that it would set off an explosion in the room. Orion sat with his head hung and his back curved, sandwiched between his parents, while Barbara sat on the row across from him with her mother.

Brad and his own parents sat a good distance away from the others—his face was disfigured and it had taken only a glance at it for Orion's stomach to lurch. For him, the only evidence of Friday afternoon's fight was the redness of his knuckles and a shredded, bandaged back.

-

When the school fight was finally broken up by a teacher, an ambulance was called for Brad while Barbara and Orion were dragged back into the building. The parents of all three were informed of what happened and told to come pick up their children immediately.

Orion remembered his mother's entrance as clear as day—she had locked up the store and rushed over, her clothes dishevelled and her eyes wild. All the power, the strength, the satisfaction Orion had felt as he beat up Brad vaporised into thin air when he laid eyes on her, and the gravity of his actions sunk into his bones.

After being informed of a scheduled meeting with the principal for Monday afternoon, the pair had walked back to the car, and driven home in complete silence. It was a silence charged with things that were better left unsaid, with shock and disbelief as to what had happened. Orion had to battle the urge to unbuckle his seatbelt, open the car door, and throw himself onto the busy road.

He didn't want to face the consequences of his actions, he didn't want to see his mother look at him with disappointment in her eyes—although she never explicitly said it, it was impossible for her to hide it, no matter how proficient she was at masking her emotions. Never in a million years would she have expected her son to get involved in a brawl, never mind sending a kid to the hospital—Orion could read her thoughts as if they had been said aloud.

The only time she spoke was when she pulled into the driveway and switched off the engine. I won't tell your father about this, she had said, her eyes glued to the steering wheel. The simple phrase was enough to quell Orion's anxiousness, and, for the next few hours, Orion really believed that what had happened would remain between him and his mother.

Until his father came home, checked his email, and stormed up the stairs to Orion's room.

The boy had never gotten belted before, but the moment his bedroom door flew open, and he saw the mask of pure wrath on his father's face, he knew that he would soon experience it for the first time. The man didn't ask for an explanation nor did Orion offer any, as he knew that lying would be in vain. The indisputable evidence was there, in that email.

As Orion was marched down the stairs and into the living room, every single bad thing he'd ever done in his life—and never paid the consequences for—came to haunt him. When he stole a piece of candy from his mother's store as a five-year-old, when he didn't finish his English homework on time, when he walked passed a beggar and didn't hand him a dollar—he believed that all that, including the night he snuck out and the day he got in a fight, was just a build up to this moment, where he was asked to kneel on the carpeted floor and take off his shirt.

Tonight would be the night when Karma would come galloping towards him and inflict a punishment so great, it would make up for all the ones he hadn't endured.

It all begun when his father removed his leather belt and lashed him across the back.

It stung, badly enough to force a groan out of Orion's gritted teeth, but he wasn't given enough time to recover that soon came another, and another, and another, until tears were streaming down his cheeks and his back has lost all sensation except pain.

Not even his mother could handle seeing him like this, and after the fifteenth or sixteenth lash, she let out a strangled cry and had to run into the other room. Orion wanted to beg for forgiveness, for mercy, but his pride kept his mouth shut and his jaw clenched, even when his body collapsed to the floor.

He deserved every one of those lashes—he had gotten involved in a fight that had nothing to do with him, and cowardly attacked a kid while his attention was elsewhere. I'm not that tough, he repeated to himself over and over, because if Brad had faced him head on, he would've destroyed Orion in a matter of seconds.

By the twentieth lash, his father's arm was tiring. Each blow became weaker than the last, until they stopped altogether. The only sound in the room was the man's breathing, hard and laboured.

"Go to your room," he said simply, before he dropped the belt and walked out.

It's over.

Orion remained unmoving for a couple of minutes. The dull pain in his back escalated with every heartbeat. He was on the verge of unconsciousness, but he couldn't just lie there like a piece of shit. With great difficulty, he pushed himself up and slowly dragged himself to his room, feeling the blood trickle down his back from where the leather had broken his skin.

-

Now, the door to the principal's office creaked open and everybody's head turned to it.

"Peterson?" A woman with a pinstripe skirt and a white blouse stepped out, holding a red clipboard. Orion recognised her as the coffee-mug lady from a couple of a weeks ago; she had glanced at him suspiciously back then, whilst he was sitting outside the reception area, but now the look she gave him was indecipherable. It was the same look that bounced on the other people in the room until Brad's mother spoke up.

"That would be us," she said in a sarcastic tone, as if the answer was obvious. Orion couldn't help but furrow his brows at the racist innuendo.

"Mr. Castellanos is ready to receive you." The secretary's chocolate-brown eyes rested on the woman, who stood up with her husband and son.

"Tell the principal everything that happened," she said to Brad as they walked down the short corridor, throwing Orion a dirty look. His parents seemed indifferent to the action; they were as still as wax figures.

The secretary ushered the trio in, and once she entered the office as well, silently closed the door behind her. The room was once again doused in quietude.

Orion took this moment to sneak a glance at Barbara, who was slouched in her chair and twiddling her thumbs. Her right-cheek was bruised and her lip was busted, but if there were any other injuries, they were hidden underneath her purple sweater. She must've felt his eyes on her, because she also looked up at him. When they made eye-contact, he immediately felt more at ease.

Don't worry, we're in this together, her eyes seemed to say.

Orion gave her an imperceptible nod, and her eyes lit up. She understood the message.

"Don't look at her," his father said in Mandarin, a certain gruffness to his voice that had never been there before. The man shifted in his seat and adjusted his tie.

Biting his lip, Orion went back to staring at the scuff mark, his heart tightening in his chest.

The next half-hour was spent fidgeting in place, until the Peterson's exited the office and shuffled towards the front-entrance of the school, muttering amongst one another. Once they were gone, Barbara and her mother stood up to take their place in the office.

When the secretary called the Zhou's, Orion stole a furtive look at Barbara as she departed.

How bad was it?

Barbed caught his eye and winked, but he knew that the action was only a comforting lie.

This is it. He'll expel me, I know it for sure. He has no reason not to, after all I was the one that attacked Brad and beat him up—but wait, he was the one that started it with—

"Please, take a seat."

Orion's eyes widened at the new voice. He hadn't realised that he was now in the office—principal Castellanos stared down at his notepad, jotting something down with a ballpoint pen. Orion's parents lowered themselves in their seat simultaneously and the boy once again found himself sandwiched between the two. There was no escaping the room.

The man removed his reading-glasses, folded them onto the mahogany desk, and laced his fingers together. Orion had never seen him up close before—he only made appearances doing school assemblies, sports events, and the rare classroom visit. He was always at a distance, but he exuded placidity in a way that was almost unnerving. The man trained his grey eyes onto Orion, who shrunk back into his seat.

"You know why you're here today," the principal said, his slight accent hinting at his Greek ancestry.

Orion gulped and nodded. I'm here to meet my death.

"I've heard the story from your classmates and Mrs. Lorenz,"—he lifted a sheet from the notepad and squinted down at it—"but it's only fair that I listen to you as well."

Orion involuntarily turned to look at his father.

"Go on."

The boy took a deep breath, and before he knew it, the entire ordeal spilled out in a torrent of words. Orion told them everything, transitioning from him being a mere witness to the brawl, to him taking a part in it, tiptoeing around the part where he enjoyed every moment of beating Brad's face in—he didn't need to get thrown into a reformatory.

He wasn't even aware that he had finished talking until both his parents and the principal were staring at him, the former in disbelief, the latter with passivity.

"Why did you get involved in a fight that had nothing to do with you?" Jian began, the vein in his neck throbbing, "Haven't I thought you better than—"

"Mr. Zhou, please." Mr. Castellanos lifted a thin hand.

"My son has never got into an altercation before; even I was shocked when I found out about it, but I can assure you that—"

"There's always a first time for everything, isn't there?"

Jian fell silent.

"Now, I am perfectly aware of your son's record, and I'll admit that I was surprised myself when I came to hear about this,"—Mr. Castellanos turned his elongated face so that he could look at Orion—"especially since, and correct me if I'm wrong, you're the brother of Shen Zhou, last year's valedictorian?"

At the mention of Shen, Jian's face lit up. "Yes, he's now pursuing a medical degree at Columbia University."

The conversation had once again shifted to Orion's perfect older brother. He was willing to bet that if he dropped dead right there and then, nobody would even notice.

"Wouldn't have expected anything less." Mr. Castellanos shined a genuine smile. "Orion, according to Ms. Santiago, you have been the victim of bullying for quite some time now. Am I right?"

Orion's mouth dried out; the change in topic had been so abrupt, he was still reeling from the previous one. How does he know about this? How does Barbara know about this?

"N-no, sir." Why am I denying it! It's true, my life has been hell for the past week!

"Tell me, honestly, has Brandon Peterson been harassing you? This is a very serious allegation, and it's not something that can be thrown around lightly." Those grey eyes were saturated with kindness. Mr. Castellanos knew that Orion has just told a fib, and was giving him a second chance to redeem himself. He couldn't throw it away, not if it meant saving his ass and Barbara's, or, at least, reducing their punishments.

Orion took a deep breath. "Yes, sir. B-Brad and his friends have been...bothering me for the past week." A hand took residence on Orion's lower back. His mother's silent comfort.

"Why haven't you spoken to a teacher about it? Your parents?"

"I-I swear I'm telling the truth...it's because I was too scared to. He said that if I told anyone he would make my life even worse." Orion's hands shook on his lap, and he felt like all the air had gotten sucked out of the room. I misinterpreted him. He thinks I'm a liar.

"I believe you, Orion," Mr. Castellanos said as he bobbed his head, "and I also believe that you're a nice boy, quite like your brother. The main issue here, however, is that there is no concrete evidence for the bullying, but there are a lot of witnesses for Mr. Peterson's assault."

Now Orion's legs were shaking as well, his whole body was trembling and not even his mother's touch could subdue it. He knew where this was going.

Mr. Castellanos straightened, his lanky body unfolding like a lawn chair. "Which brings me to my next point—I'm truly sorry, but I'm going to have to suspend you."

Orion's body stopped shaking. "What?"

Jian's head snapped toward's his son. "How dare—"

"It's perfectly alright, Mr. Zhou," the principal said, his infinite patience beginning to dwindle, "and I understand your reaction. Rather than expel all three students—as they have, inherently, broken a school rule—I've decided that community service will be more of help. For the duration of your suspension, which will last a week starting from tomorrow, you will have to help the janitor with his duties." Mr. Castellanos leant his elbows onto the table again, a stern look on his face.

Orion nodded, pursing his lips together

"Thank you." Jian jumped up from his seat and gave the principal a zealous handshake followed by a million apologies and wishes of good health. Even his wife stood with a content smile on her face.

"I need to speak to your parents in private, Orion, so you are dismissed." Mr. Castellanos said once everyone had returned to their seats.

Orion muttered his gratitude and because he couldn't spend another second in that room, he recollected his nerves and clambered out.