"What the hell happened to your face?"

Jaden blinked at her over his bowl of Cheerios, milk coating his bottom lip. "And don't say you hit your head on the shower wall again. That lie was stupid."

Flynn sighed through a laugh, reaching for her favorite coffee mug from the cabinet. "Would it be more believable if I said I hit my head trying to get into the car?"

The younger boy snorted. "Have you actually done that?"

She rounded past him, ruffling his head as she went. "Yes, actually. Sometimes I underestimate my height, okay?"

"For a trained iceskater, you're not very coordinated, you know."

"Ouch," she snickered, savoring the warm musk of coffee as it filled her cup. "Got me there."

Jaden's face sobered. "Seriously though. Who'd you beat up this time?"

Flynn pursed her lips, brushing her morning curls past her ears. "Um, I actually got beat up myself a little bit."

His eyes doubled. "Wha—"

"But you don't have to worry about it, bud. Seriously. I'm okay."

His brows furrowed. "But you literally have a giant bruise on your face."

"Let me take care of it, okay?" Her face melted into a smirk. "After all, you know I'm very capable."

He lowered face towards his bowl, letting out a small huff of amusement. "Yeah, that's true."

Her grin deepened.

She wasn't sure what would set off her anger today, but Flynn didn't expect it to be Sam LaRusso's lips pressed against Kyler's. The brunette gripped her bag strap until her knuckles turned white, waiting for the obnoxious boy to leave before she marched over.

"Just a heads up, girl to girl," Flynn snapped. "You shouldn't be dating that asshole."

Sam blinked at her in a mix of befuddlement and shock. "Um, it's Flynn, right?"

"Him and his goons did this to me," the brunette growled, jabbing a thumb towards her bruised brow bone. "And this," she muttered in a quieter tone, discreetly lifting the seam of her shirt to reveal a huge bruise on her skin. "So like I said, you shouldn't date him."

The girl's blue eyes widened. "Wha—No way Kyler did that to you. He would never," Sam shook her head, mouth agape as she observed the horrible marks coloring the girl's lower half.

"Of course you won't believe me. He probably puts up a nice guy act, huh? Makes you think he cries at chick flicks? That he wants to give you presents instead of have you give him—"

"Enough!" Sam exclaimed, her teeth gritting together in an overwhelmed expression.

"If you need proof, just listen to what he says and does when he doesn't know you're around."

"Are you suggesting I spy on my boyfriend?"

Flynn sighed through her nostrils, taking a long blink to relieve some of her stress. "I'm doing you a favor, LaRusso. Just take it," she grumbled before shoving past her. Only to stumble into another unhappy person.

"What the hell happened?" Jamie demanded, his voice rough with indirect hatred. Seeing the malice lined in his brown eyes made her insides curl with discomfort.

"Just a couple of assholes, it's fine," she mumbled, thwarted when he drew a step closer.

"Seriously, Flynn. Who did this to you?" His tone hardened, and instead of feeling assurance from his protectiveness, there was only disgust.

"I can handle it myself, tough guy," she spat, unable to conceal the irritation spewing past her lips. Her body jerked away from him, suddenly feeling a little too close for her liking. "Stand down. I've dealt with too much in the past twenty-four hours for this."

Something in Jamie's expression cracked, his eyebrows straightening out again as his lips peeled into a frown. "I just wanna make sure you're okay. Cause if someone's harassing you, you need to tell somebody. If not me, Dakota—or one of your other friends."

Flynn tried her best not to flinch at the sound of her friend's name, the muscles around her cheeks aching as her jaw clenched. "Okay, thanks. I gotta go." The brunette veered off, avoiding any further questions from the boy.

Flynn barged inside the library, the space swamped with its usual quiet chatter. She balanced a binder of chemistry notes in one hand, searching her bag for her headphones with the other. She caught a glimpse of Demetri's tall head, a beacon for her friends' table.

"Hey guys," she greeted, slipping her loosely organized things onto the empty space by Miguel.

Demetri jerked his head up, eyes glinting with distaste. "Oh my God—Flynn, you are so dumb."

"Hi Demetri," the Wilder huffed, plopping into her seat.

"Of course those assholes would get you too," the dark-haired boy scoffed, lip curled with mingled disgust and disbelief. "They certainly have no class."

Eli hunched over the table, drawing his face closer to Flynn's to examine her injuries with bleak eyes. "Are you okay?" He asked, voice thick with unreadable emotion.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she nodded assuringly, placating him with a tight-lipped smile. "We should really be asking Miguel," she segued, averting her attention to the boy toppling over an open notebook. His forehead brandished a tan bandage that stretched to his temple. "How are things? Your mom ease up any?"

Miguel met her gaze with dark eyes. Flynn tried to decipher their code before they darted away. "Nah. She's pretty dead set on me never training again," he mumbled with palpable disappointment.

"So that's it? No more karate?" Demetri pressed.

Miguel barely managed a shrug. "I guess so."

"It was probably for the best," the Alexopoulos boy assumed a note of pessimism. "It was starting to boost your confidence."

"Holy shit, Demetri!" Flynn jerked back from her notes, hand splayed over her collarbone. "Confidence? That's terrifying!"

"Yeah, isn't that a good thing?" Miguel blinked at him.

Demetri took note of Flynn's comment, finding it too difficult to ignore. "I don't see how you have the room to be sarcastic when you're staring at me with a giant purple spot on your face."

Flynn chuckled, unmoved by him. She grew up with the boy's brash comments. "Demetri, I have literally broken limbs before because I do a sport that involves violently spinning in the air and landing on a blade on ice. You think this is gonna kill me?"

"I think it's more about the fact that your ass got beat by guys you see at school everyday. Guys that didn't care you were outnumbered or a girl."

Flynn snorted, pulling more chemistry homework from her folder. "They didn't care because they knew I'd kick their ass if it was just one of them."

"Okay, that! See? That right there. What has confidence ever gotten anybody except for a black eye and their backpack thrown in the trash?"

"Well, one of those things has happened to you and you don't have a confident bone in your body," Flynn slung her arm around the back of her chair, directing a flat smile at her friend. "Keep talking and we'll see about that first one too."

Demetri's head cocked back, the size of his eyes doubling. "Jesus, Flynn."

The air grew thicker with tension, their "banter" feeling a lot more hostile and lacking in humor than usual. Perhaps it was a collection of things: her fight with Dakota, Jamie freaking her out, or the fact that she got her ass beat and the pain was tearing her body apart.

But she was also just beginning to lose her patience with Demetri.

Eli spoke up, noticing the need to intervene. "Well, I thought it was kind of cool how you stood up to Kyler," his kind eyes trailed over to Miguel.

"Are you insane?" Demetri reeled. "Let me ask you. What is the best superpower anyone could have?"

"Teleportation," Flynn answered.

"Super strength," Miguel's response followed behind.

"Wrong," Demetri declared, casting a second glance at Flynn. "And no, we are not having another debate on superpowers. The correct answer is invisibility."

"Yeah, said like a loser," Flynn muttered under her breath. The entire table still heard her.

"A distant second would be super speed, to run away fast."

"Run away from who?"

The sound of his voice and the weight of a hand collapsing on her shoulder sent Flynn lurching back at neck-breaking speed. She tossed a glare upwards at the intruder. "Get your hand off me, asshole."

While Flynn seethed at seeing their bully again, the other boys shrunk further into themselves.

"Whom," Brucks explained over his shoulder, fueling the agitation inside Flynn's system. "Remember English class—"

"We were just leaving," Miguel uttered hastily, the trio of boys leaping from their seats in unified terror.

Flynn, out of sheer recklessness and stupidity, rose to her feet before perching her rear end on the table top. "I'm not."

Kyler ignored them both, hand instead snaking around Eli's neck and snapping him back into place. "Hey, where you going?" His grimy fingers curled around the boy's chin, lifting his face further toward the fluorescent lights. "Oh, look at this freak. Oh shit! What kind of girl would ever kiss this shit?"

Flynn flung herself back on her feet. "Let him go Kyler, or I swear to God it's about to get ugly," she growled.

"Oh and what are you gonna do, sweetheart?" Kyler shoved Eli away, rotating until they were face to face, almost nose to nose. Flynn could feel the white ends of her nails raking red lines into her palms.

"Remember how my foot met your dick last night? Now let's imagine I'm wearing one of my ice skates," she spat, eyeing him up and down. "Fastest surgery of your life, bitch."

"Flynn," Demetri hissed through clamped teeth.

But it had done the trick. For a moment, the muscles in Kyler's face grew slack with uncertainty. Flynn felt nothing but black fire swirling inside her chest as the boy's sneer resurfaced.

"You wouldn't get the chance."

"Leave her alone, Kyler," Miguel spoke up, voice shaky but consisting of a small confidence.

Kyler shoved past Flynn and prowled over to the Diaz boy. "Oh, of course you'd wanna come to her rescue. You haven't had enough, 'Rhea?"

All it took was Kyler's hand on Miguel's shoulder to send her vision sprawling. She rocketed forward, sending Kyler's figure slamming into a shelf. The back of his head collided with metal.

"Enough!"

A pair of strong arms fastened around her middle, dragging her away before she could protest. The voice belonged to the librarian, her viper gaze glowering at Flynn. "Miss Wilder, that's a detention! And a call to your parents."

The shared laughter between Kyler and Brucks rang in her ears as she spun around at her capturer, catching Jamie's regretful gaze.

"Let's go," he urged, hand gripping her inner bicep as he began to guide her towards the exit. "Seriously, Flynn. You don't wanna do this. Not here."

"Yeah, that's the thing about dirty foster kids. Can never get rid of those anger issues. Bitch needs a therapist," Kyler called out loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Everyone out, now," the librarian snapped.

The last thing Flynn saw was Kyler swiping Demetri's backpack, the pair hidden behind the shelves. No consequences.

It was enough to send tears springing in the corners of her eyes.

"So, what the hell was all that?" Jamie demanded as Flynn appeared out of the principal's office, detention slip wedged between her clammy fingers. "Not saying he didn't deserve it, but..."

"Honestly?" Flynn shook her head with a wavering sigh. Now that she had gotten a chance to calm herself, the only feelings left were shame and overwhelming sadness. "I kinda lost it back there."

"Yeah, it seemed that way." His voice wasn't unkind with how he said it.

Flynn laughed humorlessly, tucking the bright pink slip into the nearest fold of her backpack. "I threatened to slice his dick off, Jamie."

"Hey, I mean," the curly-haired boy fanned his arms out in a massive shrug. "I wouldn't be opposed," his gaze softened when he saw her crestfallen look, mouth twisting into a frown. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. I guess I've just had a lot go wrong in the last day or two. I mean, I had a fight with Dakota, I got beat up at the dance, I got punished for defending my friends against a bully..."

"Yeah, it's a lot," he guided them to a nearby bench.

"And I'm sorry about earlier. I was just strung up, as you can tell," she let out another dry laugh, running her fingers through her hair. "I'm gonna have to apologize to a few people. Better start now."

"You were already forgiven," he smiled, the motion making his dimples crease and the mole by his jaw accentuate. "Besides, at the end of the day, all you did was push an asshole against the wall. Nothing that bad."

"I guess," Flynn mumbled half-heartedly, unable to fight the aching swarm of grief in her chest. This is only the start of it, she thought.

Jamie sensed her grimness. "Hey, don't beat yourself up. Seriously. Like you said, you were just standing up for your friends."

"Yeah...after I almost started a fight with one of them for no reason," Flynn snorted with self-hatred, shaking her head as it fell into her hands. "I literally threatened Demetri with a black eye."

The brunet boy blinked, allowing himself a moment to process. "Okay, well, I'm sure you love the guy, but from what I know he's a little punk sometimes. Maybe you just gave him a reality check."

"How do you know Demetri?" Her head lolled out of her cupped hands, shooting him an incredulous look. She hoped he couldn't see the wetness in her eyes.

"Fifth period history. I've seen him banter with the lip kid. Eli right? When Demetri's comfortable with someone...he's got a big mouth."

Flynn couldn't help the bark of laughter that shot out, the back of her head finding the wall behind them. "Oh, that's true."

Jamie nodded with a grin, shooting her a second glance. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah," she muttered, finding her footing again as she stood. "After I say a few apologies, anyway."

"Not to Kyler, though, right?"

"Oh, God no."

Feelings were such an obstacle sometimes.

The frustration of that tugged at Flynn's muscles as she skated wide arcs across the rink. Her legs refused to carry her into any of the usual spins and kicks involved in her program. Instead, she glided like a stuck bird, music ringing to her ears thanks to her fat noise-canceling headphones.

Well, that's enough of that, Flynn decided. She exited the rink with a regretful frown.

A figure hovered in the space of her path towards the locker room: a chestnut-haired girl named Laura.

Flynn trained around the same time as her. The two weren't particularly friends, bordering on mutual acknowledgment of each other. Which is why she was surprised she had to pry her earbuds off and ask the girl to repeat whatever she had said.

"I said, 'Why did you to come the rink if you weren't gonna practice'?"

Flynn blinked at her, jaw hardening. She swallowed her simmering anger down. "Just because I'm a competitive skater doesn't mean I only skate to train. Sometimes!I just want to skate."

Which was, in all honesty, almost never true. This only happened when she was feeling like this.

She didn't allow Laura a spare glance as she pushed past, beelining for the locker room. A heaviness swelled in her chest.

Undressing at a dull pace, Flynn's thoughts strayed back to earlier today. Specifically, the look Miguel gave her as she was dragged away by Jamie.

It hadn't struck her before, but now she couldn't unsee it. The alarm coating his dark brown eyes. The uncertainty. She had seen that look several times, only brandished by the faces of distraught foster parents right as they realized she wouldn't be the "right fit".

"Flynn?"

The sound of another voice made her loosen her choking grasp on her headphones, plastic clattering as she set them down on the bench. Dakota hovered in the entrance, sporting a look of concern that made Flynn realize she was definitely crying.

"What's wrong?"

The words spilled out in her friend's presence. It was the one thing Flynn simultaneously hated and loved about her.

"What's wrong is that I'm a terrible fucking friend! I mean, we haven't spoken in days just because you told me the truth. I threatened to punch Demetri in the eye. I snapped at Jamie for simply being concerned. I lost my shit in front of everyone and threatened to slice Kyler's dick off with my ice skate."

A long pause droned between them, Dakota's sneakers sliding across the gritty floor. "Okay, wow. That was...a lot. You threatened to punch Demetri in the face?"

Flynn's dry hands dragged across the smoothness of her cheeks. "That's what you got out of that?" She laughed humorlessly, remembering to keep her tone in check.

Dakota's mouth drew into a restrained smile, sucking her lips against her teeth. "Flynn, I have heard you threaten that boy a thousand different ways. You obviously never mean them. I promise you he does not care. If anything, you apologize and he just clams up and does that awkward Demetri thing."

Another laugh barked out as Flynn's mind conjured the image. "Maybe. Still, I know I shouldn't have said it. I was just...in a bad mood."

"Right. Having one of those this week?"

Flynn paused, her hand leaving her face as she ignored the way her wet eyelashes tickled. "I'm sorry, Dakota. I shouldn't have snapped at you. You were right, anyways. Like always."

The shorter girl released a measured sigh, joining her friend on the small wooden bench. "You know it's just cause I'm looking out for you. It's concerning how...warped in...you get about everything."

Flynn nodded, hot shame rushing color back to her face. "Yeah, I know."

"You are not a bad friend, though," she continued. "I heard the story from Eli in seventh period. You were just looking out for them. Maybe just a bit too intensely, in true Flynn fashion."

Another dry laugh. "True Flynn fashion, huh? Way to make me sound fucking insane."

"I'm serious, Flynn," the curly-haired girl's expression grew solemn. "They may not always say it, but they see what you do for them and I know they appreciate it. There's no one that protects her friends like you do. I mean, look at what you got into for Miguel, and you've only known him for a week!"

"Ugh, Miguel," Flynn groaned into her cupped hands, shaking her head. "I'm so embarrassed."

Dakota froze. "Because you got your ass kicked?"

"No, because I lost my cool in front of him," she elaborated with a jab of self-hatred. "And like you said, he's only been with us for a week. Now I'm gonna have to have that 'Hey! By the way, I'm extremely mentally ill!' conversation with him."

"You know, you don't have to explain yourself to him. I mean, you've been through a lot. That's not exactly something you should tell somebody so soon into a friendship. It might freak him out and scare him away."

Flynn felt a stabbing pain spread through her chest. "No, I know. But Miguel's my—our friend. And if he's gonna stay with us, he should know what he's getting into. Besides, I know he probably picked up on that mentally ill joke you made last week•

"Yeah, but that could've been about any of us." Dakota paused, noting the dread that wrought her friend's face. "But I guess if you really feel like you need to tell him, then...Miguel's nice. I'm sure he'll understand."

"I swear, Dakota," she whispered, voice broken with a new stabbing of guilt and despair. "Sometimes, I seriously hate myself so much."

The other girl said nothing at first, instead ribboning her arms around Flynn's shoulders and gently tugging her into an embrace. "Just go home and relax tonight," she murmured. "Wait for it to pass. It always does."

Go home and relax. Wait for it to pass. That was the plan.

Until Flynn's eyes caught sight of a certain golden snake perched at a tiny strip mall.

She never drove around this part of the Valley, but she had decided to today because she appreciated a longer drive and how it helped calm her down.

Now she had parked herself in front of Cobra Kai Karate. And the lights were still on.

A bell chimed to signal Flynn's entrance. She carried herself into the dojo swamped in beige and fluorescent lighting. It was clear to her that the dojo was fairly new, with the lacking equipment and space. She jokingly wondered if Miguel was their only student.

"The dojo's closed for now. Come back in the—oh," a gruff voice barked. The familiar disgruntled figure of Johnny Lawrence crept out from the back office. His austere blue gaze traveled to hers in a mixture of surprise and bewilderment.

"Recognize me?" Flynn feigned nonchalance, stuffing her keys into the pocket of her hoodie and beginning to tear her sneakers off.

"Only because of that mark on your face," Lawrence replied. "You were with Diaz the other night. Got your ass kicked."

She managed a terse laugh, socked feet padding onto the mat. "Well, we gave it the good ole college try," she spoke with a tight-lipped smile. "But what can I say? We were outnumbered."

"There's no such thing as being outnumbered. Just being undertrained. I let Miguel down."

Flynn detected a note of sadness to the sensei's statement. "Well, I mean, he's only been doing karate for what? A few weeks?"

"What are you doing here, kid?" Johnny blinked, unmoved by her question.

"It's Flynn, by the way. Flynn Wilder," she informed him, arms swinging as she remained planted firmly on the mat. "And I don't know. I guess I was hoping for a karate lesson or something."

The older man waited, taking a few moments before a disbelieving snort shot out of him. "Beat it, Wilder. I said we're closed. And something tells me you don't actually want to learn karate."

"Fine," she took a fast step forward, heel slapping against the material of the mat with a fwack. "Just answer my question then."

The blond man turned, flailing his limp arms to indicate for her to continue. She swallowed, bile scraping against the soft insides of her throat. "Is karate, like...a good outlet?"

"Outlet?"

"Yeah."

Another blink of his cold, stoic eyes. "Imma need you to be a little more clear, kid."

"Like an outlet for feelings, I guess," a hot burning discomfort began to spider its way into her chest. The words struggled like bubbles caught in her larynx.

"Feelings?"

"Anger," she clarified.

Johnny snickered, a response that only made her familiar white ball of rage flare up again. "You stopped by because you want help with your anger issues?"

Flynn resisted the urge to curl her hands into fists, instead sending the older man an inquisitive expression. "If I was someone who had anger issues, is that really the kind of thing you'd want to say to me?"

This seemed to make him think. "You have any experience with karate?"

"Absolutely zero. But I do competitive figure skating, so I'm not athletically incompetent if that's what you're really asking."

"Competitive figure skating?" He reeled, tearing away from his spot and walking in a small manic circle. "Jesus. What the hell are you doing here, then?"

"Who said I could only learn one sport? And besides, ice skating's got a lot of jumping and kicking to it. Shouldn't be too hard."

She watched his brows rise in a mix of shock and offense. "Alright, wise ass," he spat, drawing closer. "You've already got your shoes off. Let's see what you got then."

She felt a surge of triumph as he lifted a punching dummy, setting it a foot or two in front of her. "To answer your question, yes. Karate can be a good way to channel your anger. But only if you're good at it. You keep failing, it's just gonna piss you off even more."

"I won't fail," Flynn declared, already feeling the familiar buzz of electricity in her veins. "I'm listening."

"Quiet!" Johnny yelled, the briskness of his shout stunning her. She could see his body assume a comfortable mold, the mold of a karate sensei.

"If you're gonna learn a little karate, first thing you're gonna learn is to keep your mouth shut. Second thing is to punch. All that kicking and jumping shit you mentioned comes later."

Flynn shrugged. "Hey, punching's pretty good t—"

"What did I just say, Wilder?" The blond man barked, watching her shutter back into silence. "Go ahead. Punch it."

She shot him a second glance, waiting for there to be a catch. But when his arctic eyes continue to stare impatiently, she slid her gaze to the rubber dummy.

With a quiet breath, she raised her elbows and bunched her hands into fists. Then, with a small controlled shout, she began ramming the greater two of her knuckles repetitively into the artificial face of her opponent.

"Not bad," Johnny admitted when she finally drew back, her shining eyes pinned on him for feedback. "You already have decent form with your elbows. But you're not channeling that anger like you wanted to, are you?"

"Um—"

"What you really need to do is punch through the thing—like your real enemy is actually standing behind it."

Flynn absorbed this with a curt nod before assuming position again, this time conjuring up images from the past week. Kyler's disgusting sneer, his friends towering over her and Miguel's barely conscious figures, Demetri's backpack coated in yogurt in a trash can, Kyler's hand wrapped around Eli's chin, His comment about foster kids.

His face, staring right at her. Right through the tan rubber of the dummy.

She began hammering her fists into the dummy, seeing brown eyes glowering at her past it. Her shouts melted into frantic screams and she continued to pummel rubber skin until she was breathless and wildly panting.

"Jesus, kid," Johnny chased after the equipment, his face wrought with the astonishment of being caught off guard. "Those anger issues of yours still hypothetical?"

"That was..." she trailed off, allowing herself another intake of oxygen. "Good. That felt good."

"Well, honestly, it looked pretty good," Johnny admitted as he brushed a few fingers through his ruffled hair. She had the sense that compliments from him were rare, and she took it with a feverish smile. "Any chance you got some extra time between skating and school? The dojo could use another student like you."

"Like me?" She huffed, eyebrows knitting together.

He didn't take the bait.

"Well, I hate to say it but between skating, school, and managing a volleyball team, probably not. But I won't lie and say I wouldn't enjoy it if I did," she nodded at him.

"Well, if you ever find the time, you know where I'm at," Johnny gestured towards the exit. "Now get out of here. I'm starving and I just gave you a free karate lesson. You're lucky I forgot to lock the door."

Flynn's fingers flew to her pocket, slipping a twenty out of her wallet and shoving it at him. The blond man just shook his head and groaned. "I'm not taking your money."

"Fine," she shrugged, not taking much to concede. She watched the older man's gaze, noticing the hint of struggle in his pupils.

"How's Diaz?" He finally managed, and a part of her was touched by his concern.

"He's okay," she answered. "He wants to come back, he would if it were up to him."

"Yeah, I figured that much," Johnny grumbled, chin pointed at the floor in disappointment. "His mom was pretty set on keeping him away from karate forever."

"Well, I don't know," the brunette caught herself examining the walls and its sparse decor. "What's your saying here? 'No mercy'? Maybe just convince her a little more."

He watched her in consideration as she retreated back to her shoes. "And thanks. Seriously. I have a feeling I'll be back."

"Yeah, well, if that's true, I'll be much more of an asshole. You caught me on a bad day."

She snorted, a thought wavering to the surface of her jumbled mind. Her and Johnny Lawrence might have more in common than she thought.

Today 9:14pm

flynn
hey is it cool if you meet me before school tm in the gym? 

miguel👴
Um yeah sure! Can I ask why?

flynn
i just wanna talk
nothing bad
i think

miguel👴
Very reassuring...
Is everything okay? I didn't see you after what happened with Kyler today.

flynn
dw you don't need to be nervous or anything
and yeah everything's fine

miguel👴
Okay now I'm nervous!!! 😭

flynn
well STAWPPP
i'll see you tomorrow

miguel👴
See you!