Once again, Danny found herself sitting in the principal's office, facing the consequences of her actions. The school demanded discipline, and Aunt Anne was forced to pay for the medical treatment and compensation the boy's parents insisted on. Danny's elbow still throbbed from the fight, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the sting of Anne's fury.
As soon as they got home, Anne's hand came down hard, slapping Danny across both cheeks. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final. "Ah…" Anne groaned, shaking her reddened palms. To her, Danny was nothing but a demon child, a problem she never asked for. "How could my sister have adopted someone like you?" she muttered under her breath, her voice a mix of anger and exhaustion.
Danny didn't flinch. She was used to the slaps, the yelling, the constant reminders that she didn't belong. She stood there, her jaw clenched, her eyes cold and unyielding. Anne's words rolled off her like water off a stone. She had built walls around herself, and nothing could break through.
In less than six months, Danny's name had become infamous throughout the school. She was the girl who didn't back down, the one who fought without hesitation. It wasn't long before the so-called "bad kids" started to take notice. One of them, a short, wiry boy named Hanson, approached her one afternoon. He was a member of the Mamba gang, a group notorious not just in the school but across the entire town. Even the teachers turned a blind eye to their antics, too afraid to get involved.
"I like the way you handled Mike," Hanson said, grinning as he mimicked Danny's punch. "You've got guts. I'm sure Jack would like you too."
Danny squinted, her icy gaze cutting through Hanson's enthusiasm. She wasn't girly at all, and her presence alone was enough to make most people think twice. But Hanson didn't seem intimidated. He kept talking, trying to sell her on the idea of joining the gang.
Danny, however, wasn't interested. She had no love for gangs. Sure, they talked about loyalty and brotherhood, but to her, it was all just a hierarchy of power. Seniority ruled, and Danny hated that. She hated the idea of bowing to anyone, of following orders just because someone claimed to be in charge. She had spent her entire life fighting to be her own person, and she wasn't about to give that up for a group of wannabe thugs.
"I'm not joining your gang," she said flatly, her voice leaving no room for argument. Hanson shrugged, unfazed. He'd tried, and that was enough for him. As he walked away, Danny couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease. The Mamba gang wasn't the kind of group you said no to lightly. But Danny wasn't afraid. She had faced worse than a bunch of arrogant teenagers, and she wasn't about to let them dictate her life.
The next afternoon, Hanson returned, this time with a friend from the gang—a senior named Roy. Danny spotted them waiting near her classroom, but she didn't bother to acknowledge them. She walked past, her expression blank, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her loose black jacket. Her tall, athletic frame and confident stride made her hard to ignore, but she acted as if they were invisible.
Roy, however, wasn't used to being ignored. His face twisted in anger as he stepped forward, grabbing Danny by the collar of her shirt. "You think you're better than us, huh?" he snarled, his voice low and threatening. "You're underestimating us, girl."
Danny didn't flinch. She stood her ground, her piercing gaze locked onto Roy's. Her height was almost on par with his, and her well-built frame made it clear she wasn't someone to be messed with. She reached up to straighten her shirt, but Roy's grip tightened, refusing to let go.
The classroom was nearly empty—most students had left for recess and the few who remained quickly scattered at the first sign of trouble. Danny's eyes narrowed as Roy leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Hmm… you're kinda pretty girl," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. He licked his lips, his tone turning lewd as he whispered something crude.
Danny's stomach churned with disgust. Without thinking, her hand shot out, slapping Roy across the face with a sharp crack. The sound echoed through the room, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze.
Roy stumbled back, his hand flying to his cheek. His eyes burned with rage. "You fucking bitch!" he roared. "You wanna die, huh?!"
Hanson stepped forward, trying to intervene, but it was too late. Roy lunged at Danny, his fists swinging wildly. Danny dodged and countered, her movements quick and precise. The fight escalated in seconds—punches, kicks, and curses flying as the two clashed. Roy, blinded by anger, forgot he was fighting a girl. All he cared about was saving face. He couldn't afford to lose to someone like Danny.
In a desperate move, Roy grabbed a nearby chair and hurled it at her. "Shit!" he yelled as Danny nimbly sidestepped, the chair missing her by inches. It crashed through the classroom window, shattering the glass with a deafening crash. Shards rained down, scattering across the floor and drawing gasps from the few onlookers who hadn't already fled.
The chair didn't stop there. It tumbled out of the broken window, free-falling two stories before landing with a loud thud on the ground below. The sound echoed through the schoolyard, drawing attention from students and teachers alike.
For a moment, everything was still. Then, the reality of what had just happened sank in. Danny stood amidst the chaos, her chest heaving, her fists still clenched. Roy glared at her, his face red with humiliation and rage. But Danny didn't care. She had defended herself, and she wasn't about to apologize for it.
Danny's classroom was on the second floor, and as fate would have it, the school committee had chosen that very afternoon to tour the campus. They were discussing plans for school development, walking leisurely through the courtyard, when suddenly—a chair came crashing down from above.
It happened in an instant. The chair hurtled through the air, narrowly missing one of the committee members' heads before slamming into the ground with a thunderous crash. The group froze, their eyes wide with shock as they stared at the shattered remains of the chair. Slowly, their gazes turned upward, toward the broken window on the second floor.
Upstairs, Roy realized the gravity of what he'd done. His face paled as he glanced out the window and saw the committee below, their expressions a mix of anger and disbelief. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. Without a second thought, he bolted, his gang members scrambling after him. They disappeared down the hallway, leaving Danny alone in the classroom, still catching her breath.
Danny, however, was oblivious to the chaos unfolding below. She stood amidst the broken glass and overturned desks, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself. The fight had left her adrenaline pumping, but now that it was over, she felt a strange emptiness. She glanced around the room, her eyes narrowing as she realized Roy and his gang had fled. "Cowards," she muttered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
It wasn't until she heard the sound of hurried footsteps and raised voices approaching the classroom that she realized something was wrong. The door swung open, and a teacher burst in, followed by others. Their faces were stern, their eyes scanning the room before landing on Danny.
"What on earth happened here?" one of them demanded, his voice sharp with authority.
Danny hesitated, her mind racing. She knew better than to try explaining herself. No one ever believed her side of the story anyway. Instead, she crossed her arms and leaned against a desk, her expression unreadable. "Ask Roy," she said flatly. "He's the one who threw the chair."
Teachers exchanged glances, clearly unconvinced. One of them stepped forward, his tone accusatory. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Someone could have been seriously hurt!"
Danny didn't respond. She just stared at them, her jaw clenched, her eyes defiant. She was used to being blamed for things that weren't entirely her fault. But this time, she wasn't going to apologize. She hadn't started the fight, and she sure as hell wasn't going to take the fall for it.
As the teacher continued to lecture her, Danny tuned them out, her thoughts drifting. She knew this would only make things worse for her at school. But deep down, she didn't care. She had survived worse, and she would survive this too. Whatever consequences came her way, she would face them head-on—just like she always did.
The courtyard erupted into chaos. Students and teachers alike squealed in shock, their eyes darting between the shattered chair and the broken window above. The chair had nearly struck a group of school committee members, who were being given a tour by the principal himself. The principal's face turned a deep shade of red, his jaw tightening as he glared up at the second-floor classroom. This was supposed to be a day to showcase the school's progress, not a spectacle of recklessness. Someone was going to pay for this.
Mrs. Hall, Danny's homeroom teacher, was summoned immediately. She stood before the principal and the committee, her head bowed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. The chair had fallen from her classroom, and the weight of responsibility hung heavily on her shoulders. "I… I don't know what happened," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I wasn't in the classroom at the time. I'll find out who's responsible, I promise."
The principal's eyes narrowed. "You'd better," he said coldly. "This is unacceptable. The reputation of this school is at stake."
Soon, witnesses were brought forward—students who had been in the hallway or nearby classrooms during the incident. Their voices overlapped as they recounted what they had seen, their stories painting a picture of a fight gone wrong. And, as always, Danny's name came up again and again.
"It was Danny," one student said, avoiding eye contact. "She was fighting with Roy from the Mamba gang."
"Yeah," another chimed in. "Roy threw the chair, but Danny started it. She's always causing trouble."
The principal's expression darkened further. Danny's name was no stranger to his office, and this latest incident only confirmed what he already believed: she was a problem that needed to be dealt with. "Bring her to my office," he ordered, his voice sharp. "Now."
Mrs. Hall hesitated, her face pale. She knew Danny wasn't perfect, but she also knew there was more to the story. Still, she had no choice but to comply. She hurried back to the classroom, where Danny was still standing amidst the wreckage, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
"Danny," Mrs. Hall said, her voice a mix of frustration and concern. "The principal wants to see you. Now."
Danny didn't argue. She knew how this would go. She followed Mrs. Hall down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The other students watched her pass, their whispers trailing behind her like shadows. She ignored them, her head held high, her face a mask of defiance.
When she reached the principal's office, she was met with a wall of stern faces. The principal, the committee members, and several teachers all stared at her, their expressions a mix of anger and disappointment. Danny didn't flinch. She had been here before, and she knew the drill.
"Danny," the principal began, his voice cold and measured. "Care to explain what happened in your classroom today?"