Paul stared in disbelief.

Wade shook the cobwebs from his head, straightened up and faced Paul.

“You hit like a Sheila,” Wade smirked, wiping the blood from his lip.

Infuriated, Paul threw another vicious punch, but this time Wade was prepared for Paul’s speed and sashayed away from the punch with the grace of a dancer, and crashed his own fist into the side of Paul’s jaw.

Paul didn’t even blink.

He threw another punch at Wade, a straight left, and Wade ducked that punch equally as impressive. He threw another crushing blow to Paul’s temple. He thought he saw Paul wince but could not be sure because Paul grabbed him in a crushing bear hug, then slammed him hard on the cafeteria floor like a child discarding a broken toy.

It doesn’t matter if it is a high school fight or a bar fight, most people lack the skill of professional boxers and rarely stay on their feet for more than a few minutes; this fight was no different. Both boys rolled around the floor in something that looked more like a wrestling match than a fist fight as the cafeteria chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The chanting brought the school principal, Mr. MacIntyre, and a few male teachers racing into the cafeteria to break up the fight.

“That’s it, Connors,” the principal barked at Paul. “You’ve finally got yourself expelled! And you,” he turned to face Wade, “you just might find yourself on the next flight back to Australia. Who started this?”

“I did,” Michael volunteered.

The principal turned and stared at Michael in disbelief.

“Show’s over!” MacIntyre finally said, ordering the crowd of students back to their seats.

“Office!” MacIntyre ordered. The three boys turned silently and headed towards the principal’s office with MacIntyre following close behind.

The cafeteria broke into a multitude of excited conversations as soon as the three teens and the principal exited the room. They were pretty sure the fight between Paul and Wade would resume after school, and what a fight that was going to be. They remembered the last time Paul was in a fight. Some big guy from the rival high school had decided that Paul was not all that big and had challenged him to a fight. He quickly learned, the hard way, that Paul was freakishly strong and hit like a tank. That fight lasted one punch, leaving the challenger unconscious and missing three teeth. But this Australian guy had not only taken Paul’s punch, he didn’t even go down, not to mention he was fast, and he had gotten in more shots than Paul did!

It was going to be one hell of a fight after school.

“Ok Michael, what happened?” The principal demanded as he closed the office door hard and plopped in the chair behind his desk.

Mr. MacIntyre knew his students, some better than others, but the students also knew him. If the principal used your first name in these types of situations, that meant he was mildly upset or maybe even a little pissed. If he used your last name, he was really irritated, and if he used your full name, then you were pretty much toast.

For some reason he always referred to Paul by his last name. Paul always managed to get under the principal’s skin regardless of the circumstances.

“I punched Paul,” Michael explained in a dead-pan voice as if the answer was obvious. “He only swung back in self-defense. I ducked and he hit Wade by mistake. Wade was only defending himself. It’s not their fault, sir. It’s mine. I started it.”

Both teens looked at Michael with stunned looks on their faces.

“You…punched…Connors?” the principal asked in slow, steady syllables, equally as stunned.

“Yes, sir,” Michael said rubbing his hand. “It was like punching a tree.”

The other two boys chuckled. The principal shot a dirty look their way. Mr. MacIntyre had a weird looking vein on his forehead that was just below his receding hairline, and whenever he got mad, the vein seemed to stick out a little further and grow a little longer. Right now it looked as if the vein was throbbing.

The boys stopped laughing.

The principal looked from Michael to Paul and back again. He said nothing for what seemed like an eternity before turning to Wade.

“What do you have to say, Mr. Adams?” When he used 'mister' you could tell he was pissed, just not necessarily pissed at you.

“It’s like my mate said, Mr. MacIntyre, self-defense.”

The principal was not buying it.

“Care to explain why you hit Connors?” he asked Michael.

“I don’t like him.”

Paul and Wade tried to hide a smile. It didn’t work.

“Something funny, gentlemen?”

“No, sir,” they replied in unison.

“Listen, Michael,” the principal took on a more understanding tone, “just tell me what really happened and he is out of here. You do not have to be afraid of Connors.”

Michael looked directly into the principal’s eyes.

“If I was afraid of him, I wouldn’t have hit him.”

Paul hid a laugh behind a cough; Wade turned his head to hide his smile. Michael was making it real hard for the two of them to not burst out laughing. If that vein in MacIntyre’s head throbbed any more it might explode.

Michael could be cocky when he wanted to be, and it was obvious he was not the least bit intimidated by the principal’s cold stare.

MacIntyre leaned back in his chair and stared at the three boys. He did not care how good a football player Connors was, he was a bully and he wanted him out of his school. He finally had his chance to expel him, but Michael was making it difficult. He did not want to expel a top student like Michael because he finally had the courage to stand up to a bully, and there was no way he was going to send Wade back to Australia for defending himself.

The problem was that, if he left those two off the hook, he had no choice but to give up his chance to expel Connors.

“Well, Connors,” he finally announced, “looks like you got a Get Out of Jail Free card.” He paused as he stared hard at Paul. “This time.”

He stood up and walked to the front of his desk, looking at Michael.

“I trust you’ve got that out of your system and are through punching students?”

“Yes, sir,” Michael replied.

“The three of you report to detention, now!” MacIntyre ordered. “And Connors, I trust there will be no retribution on your part.”

“Nope, I’m good.” Paul answered with a smile.

Everyone doubted that answer.

“What about you?” the principal asked, looking at Wade.

“No worries, Mate.”

“Good. If I hear that the three of you decided to resume your little shenanigans, you are all suspended. Do I make myself clear?”

They nodded.

“Don’t think for a minute that you are fooling me with this ridiculous story,” MacIntyre told them, “So all three of you can consider yourselves on probation. That means I don’t care if it’s on school property or not, if I hear you were fighting, you are all expelled. Got it?”

All three nodded again as MacIntyre growled, “Now get out of here.”

They left the office and one of the teachers who helped break up the fight escorted them to detention. When MacIntyre was sure they were out of earshot he let out the laugh he was suppressing.

“Michael punched Connors! I would have paid to see that!”

Detention hall was empty and all three boys sat, arms folded, without saying a word. Eventually the teacher grew bored with the silence and stepped out of the room. They always did.

“Why?” Paul asked in a flat, monotone voice.

The other two looked at him.

“I can understand Outback Jack there picking up for you,” Paul explained, “But why did you take the heat?”

“You may not give a shit about getting expelled,” Michael answered, “but there is a whole student body, and a football team, that does care. They want to win the championship this year, and, as much as I hate to admit it, they probably can’t do it without you. I did it for them, not you. And I wasn’t about to let this guy get deported for helping me.”