School the next day was tiring.

I couldn't believe the boys had to go to movie premiers, showcases, parties, and galas every week and still manage to pull through school the next morning. It seemed so exhausting to me.

Although, I guessed that Midnight made us do some crazy things at night, too. It was hard completing training courses by 2 am, then being expected to be up and running laps at 4:30 each morning. I was used to it there, but after the peacefulness of my new life, I wasn't accustomed to late nights like that anymore.

The school day dragged on as it normally did. I found my classes quite easy, especially math now that Damian was helping me understand the difficult parts. He was a surprisingly good tutor, who would've thought.

I hung out with Rebecca at lunch and taught her some self defense moves. My excuse for knowing them was that I practiced karate, which wasn't a total lie. She thought it was so cool that I could fight properly. If only she knew the whole truth behind it, I'm sure she wouldn't have been nearly as impressed.

Damian got in trouble again for breaking a kid's nose. The boy had tried to start something with him, and it hadn't ended well. Damian has serious anger issues, so it was mostly the kids fault for triggering him. Especially with his violent history and all.

God knows where he learnt to throw a left hook like that, though.

I had gym class in the last period of the day. I always enjoyed that class because I got to be active. School was a big change from Midnight, having to sit at a desk for most of the day rather then going over intense combat techniques and running dangerous training courses. Gym class was the only time where I could move my body and have fun.

At least, that's what I'd thought.

We were outside on the oval playing Soccer. Coach Donovan had told us we would be joining with the boys next lesson to work on foot skills. That got me excited, because it meant I could go up against Damian.

Coach wasn't very good at Soccer, if I was being honest. He didn't understand the rules properly, which wasn't very comforting considering he was meant to have a degree in physical education. I had only just heard of the game but I already knew how it worked better than he did.

All he did was yell at everyone to get into weird positions. He stopped the game every two minutes to tell someone they were doing it wrong, when most of the time they were playing perfectly fine. It was confusing as hell.

At one point, Rebecca booted the ball so hard it soared from one half to the other and reached another member of our team, who then scored it into the goal. We all screamed and cheered. It was an amazing shot.

But of course Coach Donovan thought it was a foul. "What the hell was that?" He snapped at Rebecca. She stopped celebrating and gave him a confused look. "I kicked the ball, then Jessie scored."

He looked beyond angry. "No you didn't, you fouled. You think you can just hit it to the other side of the field? You think you know how this game works?"

Rebecca didn't know what to say. "Uh, yes? I play for club."

That made him even madder. "Don't talk back to me, stupid girl. You don't play for shit."

The class went silent. He had sworn at a student, which I was pretty sure wasn't allowed. But coach was on a roll now. He was furious for some messed up reason.

"You girls think you know everything. I'm the teacher and i'm the soccer player here, what the hell do you know about sport? Get back inside and paint your nails, bitch."

I couldn't believe this. Glancing at Rebecca, I saw she was fuming with anger. She wasn't one to cry or apologise in situations like these. No, Rebecca was a fiery person and always stood up for herself. Even when it came to teachers.

"I hope you rot in hell, you sexist pig," she spat, not moving an inch.

But the look coach was giving her told her that she should head back to the changing rooms anyway. Giving in, Rebecca ripped off her bib and threw it at his feet before storming off.

No one felt like playing after that, so the lesson ended ten minutes early. We were told to get changed out of our gear, and everyone walked away quickly. I had never seen a teacher act so disgusting toward a student. At least, not at a proper American school. Midnight was a whole other topic.

Rebecca was still furious when I caught her in the changing rooms. "I'm going to report him for that. It's gotta be illegal to talk to a student like that," she mumbled through grit teeth.

"It was so uncalled for," I agreed bitterly, wanting to slap Coach in the face extremely hard.

Although it didn't seem like it, that wasn't the worst part of the lesson. Things got bad about a minute before the bell was meant to ring, when Summer finally entered the changing rooms.

It was then that I realized she hadn't been in there the whole time. And judging by her smudged mascara and shaking hands, something was definitely wrong.

I watched as her friends and fan club tried questioning and comforting her. She ignored them all and got changed quickly, then picked up her bag and left.

I wasn't close with her, nor had we ever had a conversation that lasted more then a couple words. But i felt as if I had to do something about this. About whatever was wrong.

So i hurriedly followed her out of the building, keeping my distance a couple of feet behind. Summer was still trembling as she made her way to the bleachers and sat down in a spot hidden from the rest of the field.

Cautiously, I approached her. She was crying heavily with her head in her hands and her knees to her chest. I wasn't exactly the sensitive type, but seeing her in that state made my heart ache.

I dropped my bag down gently on the grass, then sat about two feet away from her. Summers sobs filled the silence between us. I wasn't sure if she'd noticed me yet or if she just didn't care that I was there.

I waited for her to calm down a little. She eventually raised her head to look at me. "What do you want?" She sniffled. It didn't sound rude, it just sounded sad. Like she'd completely given up.

I was unsure how to respond at first. What did I want? I guess I just felt the need to know what was wrong. And maybe I wanted to comfort her, even though we weren't friends.

I realised that wasn't true. The real reason was because there was a bad feeling in my gut, and I wanted to confirm my suspicions. Summer looked hurt and damaged, two words I had never associated with her until then. It pained me seeing someone so distraught, especially a sweet girl like her.

Clearing my throat, I eventually answered, "I wanted to know if you were okay."

Summer attempted to wipe at her eyes, but it did nothing to stop the flow of tears on her cheeks. She looked at the ground and let out a shaky breath. "I'm fine."

I didn't know who she was trying to convince, me or herself. Either way, it was not working in the slightest.

"I'm... good with secrets. You can tell me," I mumbled. I still wasn't one hundred percent sure what I was saying or what I was doing there.

Summer glanced at me once more.

"You're Sasha, right?" She choked out. I nodded in reply.

She let out a strained laugh. "Everyone says we look alike. Similar hair, similar name and all."

I managed a small smile. It put her at ease a little.

"Want to tell me what happened?" I asked quietly.

She wiped at her eyes again, her chest rising in jagged breaths. I didn't think she would answer me. It seemed unlikely given the circumstances and the relationship we had.

But I was wrong.

"It's coach..." she whispered quietly. So quietly I might have missed it if I didn't have expertly trained assassin ears.

We sat in silence for a little longer, as I wasn't sure how to reply. I'd known it had something to do with Coach Donovan. It seemed obvious after all the incidents and stories Rebecca had told me about.

I summoned up the courage to ask, "What did he do?"

She shuddered once more, refusing to make eye contact with me. Her golden hair fell around her face like a little curtain, or a waterfall hiding the cave within. I desperately wanted to push it away so I could see her face. Reading her features would help me figure out what she was feeling. It was something I had been taught as an assassin.

More silence as I waited for Summer's response. It almost seemed like she'd forgotten I was there.

Finally, she whispered, "This... wasn't the first time."

I felt sick to my stomach by those words. Although I didn't know what he'd actually done yet, I had a very clear idea.

It was obvious to me, so very obvious. And it made my blood boil thinking about what Coach had done to a fourteen year old girl like Summer.

Some more sobs escaped before Summer spoke the words that made my fists clench and my teeth grind. "It started last year. He'd always touched me but, it was never this bad."

I didn't even want to hear the rest. Shuffling closer to the suntanned girl, I wrapped an arm around her shaking body. I didn't know why I was hugging her. I hadn't hugged someone in years.

It felt like the right thing to do, however, as Summer rested her head on my shoulder and let out a years worth of painful memories. I didn't even care that I was missing homeroom, or that I would have to leave soon because Alfred would be waiting.

I just sat with Summer as she cried. Cried hysterically, which lead me to believe that she hadn't told anyone this. At least, not in a while.

When I finally arrived at the mansion I was furious. How dare an adult man like Coach attack a child in that way? How dare he? What right did he have to take advantage of her?

"Tell me everything you know about Coach Donovan," I demanded to a very confused Damian.

He frowned at me. "What?"

I had found him dripping wet by the side of the pool, god knows why he was in there during autumn. I'd kind of gotten used to Damian's strange "survivalist" behaviors like abseiling off the side of the manor, or building weapons out of sticks in the garden. But this was new.

I stepped closer to the marble edging of the pool, careful not to slip. "You know Coach Donovan, the gym teacher?"

Damian waited for me to continue. I sighed deeply. "What do you know about him? Particularly regarding his job and this girl, Summer Dawson."

"Summer, in our grade? Why?" He stood up and grabbed a towel. Then he began dabbing at his chest and face, completely oblivious that a female was watching him.

I mean, what did he expect? I was the same age as him, and he wasn't exactly ugly.

I pushed that thought from my mind and answered his question. "Because... something happened. And I need to know more about him. Just tell me anything you've heard."

Damian was a serious person. He was stupidly mature for his age and sometimes I was certain he was a robot. He reminded me a lot of the students at Midnight, the really good ones with perfect scores and genius minds.

He was cold and calculated like an assassin should be, hence why I'd never really made a good one. Basically, he handled things well and he didn't go around doing dumb things.

So I knew deep down that I could've told him what Coach had done to Summer. I knew he wouldn't have freaked out, or gone and told people. In fact he'd probably have known just what to do to help.

But I didn't tell him, because a part of me knew that you weren't supposed tell other peoples stories. Especially ones like this. I understood how Summer was feeling and thought that only she had the right to share it.

Damian studied me for a long time, while I just stood there hopelessly. I wanted to explain but I couldn't. I just couldn't. It wasn't my story to tell.

"Well, there were rumors that he'd been fired from his previous job," Damian spoke, finally. "But given the prestigious ranking of Gotham Academy, it seems highly unlikely that they would hire a man with that history."

Damian continued, "That leads me to believe that either the rumors are fake, or Coach Donovan is very good at covering up his past.

I felt my heart sink a little. If there was no other evidence that Coach was a sketchy guy, Summer didn't have much of a chance of winning a court case against him.

I went back to my room and sulked around for a while. The whole situation had me depressed. I didn't know why I cared so much about fixing this. It was like I was playing hero or something.

How funny, and ex-assassin trying to be a hero. As if that could ever happen.

Alfred, Bruce and Tim asked me if I was okay when I eventually emerged for Dinner. Damian wasn't there because he had an after school activity. I didn't know that he played sport, but then again he was pretty muscly and fit for his age so it would make sense. And he was very smart, so maybe it was math club or something.

I told everyone that I was fine. They could tell that I wasn't, but didn't push it. Bruce went out for the evening to a business event.

It kind of felt like no one was ever home these days except Alfred, but then again he was a butler. Maybe I was just being stupid.

sorry its been a little while but im trying to update moreeee

tell me if ur enjoying the story. u can make suggestions if u want, particularly for filler chapters. just dm me or drop a comment x