Nero leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping orange juice while watching Alan nervously scramble to prepare his lunch. Across the room, Charlie lounged on the couch, completely unconcerned with anything that remotely resembled responsibility.
"So," Charlie began, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over at Nero, "you ready for day three of school? Now that you're a seasoned vet, what's the plan? Gonna charm the ladies and show the teachers you're too cool for homework?"
Alan shot Charlie a disapproving look as he shoved a sandwich into Nero's lunch bag. "Charlie, please. Nero should focus on his education. Not your… misguided life advice."
Charlie chuckled, ignoring him. "Relax, Alan. It's called having charisma. The kid's got it, now he just needs to learn how to use it."
Nero smirked, remembering the awkwardness of his first day—the failed jokes, the accidental flirting, and the run-in with the bully. Today, though, he felt different. More prepared. His decision to start MMA training later gave him an extra edge, even though he hadn't thrown a single punch yet. It was like a safety net—a new sense of control just waiting to be tapped into.
"I'll be fine," Nero said, grabbing his bag. "No fights. Just… surviving."
Charlie raised his coffee mug in a mock salute. "That's the spirit. And remember, if things get dicey, just use the ol' Harper charm."
Alan groaned, shaking his head. "Let's just hope the school doesn't call me today with a report about 'Harper charm' getting someone sent to detention."
Nero grinned, tossing the strap of his bag over his shoulder. As he walked out the door, he couldn't help but feel a little lighter than the day before.
Nero stepped into the crowded school hallway, the chaotic buzz of students rushing to their lockers filling the air. Yesterday's awkwardness still lingered in the back of his mind, but something about today felt different. He wasn't the same nervous kid trying to blend in. Confidence, as Charlie had drilled into him, was key—even if it wasn't backed by anything yet.
His first class passed by without much incident, but during lunch, Nero's confidence was tested again. He spotted the same group of girls he had awkwardly tried to charm the day before, sitting at their usual table, laughing and talking.
The dark-haired girl, the one he had tried his best (and failed) to impress, glanced in his direction. She smiled politely, but there was no mistaking the awkwardness from yesterday.
Charlie's words echoed in Nero's head: "Confidence. Fake it till you make it."
He walked over, trying to play it cool. "Hey, mind if I sit here?"
The girls exchanged glances, clearly not expecting this. One of them shrugged. "Sure, I guess."
Nero slid into the seat, attempting to seem casual. "So, about yesterday… sorry if I came off a little weird. I'm still figuring this place out."
The dark-haired girl raised an eyebrow but smiled. "Yeah, we kinda figured."
Nero laughed awkwardly, feeling the tension ease a little. He wasn't completely crashing and burning like last time. They weren't flirting back, but at least they weren't laughing at him either. Progress.
Just when Nero thought the conversation was going smoothly, his luck ran out. A voice he didn't want to hear cut through the cafeteria noise.
"Well, if it isn't Romeo again."
Nero's stomach sank as he turned to see the bully—the same guy who had knocked him down the day before—standing behind him, flanked by a couple of his friends.
"Looks like someone's trying too hard," the bully sneered, folding his arms as he loomed over Nero.
Nero's heart raced, but this time, he didn't flinch. He kept his composure, remembering his upcoming MMA training. He wasn't looking for a fight, but he wasn't going to cower either.
"Yeah, well, at least I don't need backup to talk to girls," Nero shot back, keeping his voice steady.
The girls glanced nervously between Nero and the bully, clearly not wanting to get involved. The bully's face darkened, but before he could say anything, one of his friends nudged him, urging him to back off.
The bully glared at Nero for a moment, then smirked. "Whatever, Caruso."
As they walked away, Nero let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He hadn't backed down, and that felt good. But there was still a knot of tension in his chest. He knew the bully wasn't done with him yet.
After school, Nero arrived at the MMA gym, his nerves buzzing as he stepped inside. The space was intense—punching bags hung from the ceiling, people of all ages practicing jabs and kicks, and the air was thick with the sound of focus and effort. This was serious.
Standing near the front desk was Coach Tanner, a tall, muscular guy with a no-nonsense attitude. He spotted Nero and waved him over.
"You must be Nero," Coach Tanner said, shaking his hand firmly. "Berta told me you were thinking about joining."
Nero nodded, feeling a little out of place. "Yeah, I wanted to learn how to defend myself."
Coach Tanner studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. But this isn't just about fighting. MMA is about discipline, control, and knowing when not to fight. You sure you're ready for that?"
Nero swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded again. "Yeah, I'm ready."
Just as they were about to start the lesson, Charlie strolled in, giving Nero a mock thumbs-up. "Hey, kid. Remember—don't get knocked out on your first day."
Coach Tanner raised an eyebrow at Charlie, unimpressed. "This isn't a game, Mr. Harper. MMA takes discipline."
Charlie quickly backpedaled, raising his hands. "Hey, I'm just here to drop him off. No need to hit me with the seriousness."
Nero tried not to laugh as Charlie waved him off and left the gym, leaving him alone with Coach Tanner and a group of focused fighters.
Nero's first MMA session was anything but smooth. Coach Tanner ran him through the basics—how to stand, how to throw a punch, and how to keep his balance—but it was clear Nero had a long way to go.
The movements felt awkward at first, his punches lacked power, and his form was all over the place. But Coach Tanner was patient, correcting his posture and teaching him how to control his breathing.
"You're not here to throw wild punches," Coach Tanner explained, adjusting Nero's stance. "You're here to learn control. Power comes from control, not aggression."
Nero nodded, trying to absorb every word. His body was aching, and the intense focus it required was more exhausting than he had expected, but he pushed through, determined not to give up.
As the session progressed, Nero watched some of the more experienced fighters sparring, their movements fast and precise. He couldn't imagine being that good yet, but the desire to learn grew stronger with every jab and kick he practiced.
By the end of the lesson, Nero was drenched in sweat, his muscles sore and his mind spinning. But despite the exhaustion, he felt proud. He hadn't given up, and that was something.
When Charlie picked him up, Nero half-expected another sarcastic comment, but instead, Charlie gave him a quick glance and said, "You look like you got hit by a truck. Good job."
Nero laughed, wincing as the soreness in his ribs flared up. "It's harder than it looks."
Charlie nodded, driving with one hand on the wheel. "It's supposed to be. Anything worth doing is. But you stuck with it, and that's what counts."
They rode in silence for a moment, the sound of the car engine humming beneath them. Nero's thoughts drifted back to the bully—the way he had managed to stay calm earlier, but also the looming threat that still hung in the air. He didn't want to fight, but if it came down to it, he wanted to be ready.
"Think I'll get good at this?" Nero asked, glancing at Charlie.
Charlie grinned. "Kid, you're already better than I'd be. But yeah, you'll get there. Just don't let it go to your head—unless you're trying to impress someone."
Nero smiled, feeling a little more confident than he had that morning. MMA was going to be tough, but he was ready for it. And with Charlie's offbeat support, maybe he'd even survive middle school too.