Chapter 34: "Gym Class Gladiators"
In which Judo becomes therapy, Derek forgets what apologies are, and I channel all my trauma into legally sanctioned body slams.
If high school had a stock market, my value was skyrocketing—
mostly because I was scheduled to crash and burn during fourth-period gym.
As soon as I stepped into the hallway, it was like walking into a gladiator arena.
Whispers followed me like I had a glowing DEAD MAN WALKING sign floating over my head.
"Is that him?"
"Evan Mercer? Against Derek?"
"Bro, he's toast."
"Nah, maybe he's got some crazy training now. His parents are, like, supernatural-tech people, right?"
"He's gonna get folded like a gym towel."
To be fair?
Reasonable assumption.
I was the same guy who had tripped over his shoelaces and spilled orange juice into his own backpack not that long ago.
But apparently challenging Ravencrest High's apex predator had put me on the radar of people who previously assumed I was a part-time janitor.
Including Talia.
She intercepted me beside the lockers with all the casual grace of someone who didn't even need to try to look cool.
Meanwhile, I nearly dropped my supernatural-proof water bottle trying to act normal.
"Hey, Evan."
She smiled.
My teenage brain immediately suffered a temporary systems failure.
"I just wanted to say thanks."
"...Huh?"
"You helped me the other night."
Her expression became slightly more serious.
"I don't remember everything."
She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear in that cinematic way girls apparently practiced in secret.
"But I remember pieces."
My stomach tightened.
"You carried me."
Oh.
"Fought someone. A huge guy, I think."
Oh.
"And then I had your number. And a voicemail checking on me."
Her eyes met mine.
"That was you, right?"
My mouth opened.
Language attempted to happen.
"Y-Yeah."
Excellent.
"That was me."
Better.
"I mean—it is me."
Stop.
"Still me."
STOP.
"Currently me."
...
Nailed it.
Talia laughed.
"Anyway, I figured you're doing some kind of vigilante thing now."
She tilted her head.
"Like your parents, but way cooler."
Oh.
Right.
She was talking about the night I rescued her from a ghost DJ that was approximately one bass drop away from turning her soul into a playlist.
She clearly didn't remember everything.
Probably because whatever that ghost had done to everyone at the party had turned most of the night into supernatural intoxicated fog.
But she remembered me.
And apparently that was enough to send my self-esteem into low orbit.
"It's nothing."
I attempted a casual shrug.
It probably looked like I was having shoulder problems.
"Just... responsibility."
Talia's mouth twitched.
"Gentleman stuff."
Why did I say that?
"Helping people. You know."
"'Gentleman stuff,' huh?"
She laughed.
"Well, Mr. Gentleman, I'm looking forward to watching gym today."
I blinked.
"You are?"
"Maybe things around here will finally change."
And then—
because the universe never lets me have nice things for more than approximately five minutes—
Talia glanced down the hallway.
Her expression changed.
"Oh no."
"What?"
"Sofia."
Of course.
"Gotta go. If she sees me talking to you, it'll become a whole thing."
And she disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind expensive conditioner and enough social validation to power me until lunch.
Then came Sofia.
She didn't technically approach me.
That would've required openly acknowledging my existence.
Instead, she made sure to pass slowly enough that I caught the disgusted expression she now wore like designer makeup.
Ever since that incident—
where Asterion, while controlling my body, had called her out in front of half the school—
Sofia had looked at me like I was a dog that had peed on her purse.
Honestly?
Fair.
Asterion had been...
thorough.
He'd called her shallow.
Pointed out that popularity wasn't much of an accomplishment if she'd never actually done anything with it.
And he'd somehow managed to make the whole thing sound less like an insult and more like a disappointing performance review from an ancient Sect Head.
Unfortunately...
I was the one who had to deal with the fallout.
"Nice job, Evan," Sofia muttered as she passed.
"You went from invisible to punchable."
Charming.
Toby leaned toward me.
"You know, if you beat Derek, you might upgrade to 'mildly tolerable.'"
He considered.
"Maybe even 'background character in a popular girl's dream sequence.'"
Mara rolled her eyes.
"Ignore her."
She glanced after Sofia.
"Her personality hasn't evolved since fifth grade."
"...You guys are the best."
We walked toward class like I hadn't just been emotionally hit by a freight train.
But strangely?
I wasn't nervous.
Not really.
Talia believed I could do this.
Toby and Mara had my back.
Even Asterion—
ancient mentor, Sect Head, and occasional public destroyer of teenage egos—
had told me I was ready.
This was it.
Today...
Evan Mercer fought back.
If there was ever a moment in my life where I understood why people got stage fright...
this was it.
I wasn't standing in a school gym anymore.
I was in an arena.
The overhead lights seemed brighter.
The mats looked suspiciously like the sacred battlefield of destiny.
Students lined the edges of the gym like vultures waiting to see which carcass twitched last.
And standing across from me—
grinning like someone had just given him unlimited access to a buffet—
was Derek Holt.
"Alright!"
Coach Braddock barked from beside the mat, arms folded like a battle-scarred commander who had long since stopped caring about teenage drama.
"Keep it friendly!"
He pointed between us.
"This is still a spar. Not the final battle of some ridiculous anime."
Several students laughed.
"No eye gouging."
Finger one.
"No chair throwing."
Finger two.
"No mysterious last-second power-ups."
Finger three.
"You break something, you pay for it."
"Got it, Coach."
I adjusted the borrowed judo gi.
Definitely not sweating buckets.
Absolutely calm.
Completely—
Okay, I was sweating buckets.
"Understood," Derek said.
And for once?
He didn't sound mocking.
He sounded...
excited.
We stepped onto the mat.
I looked at him.
Derek Holt.
The bane of my school existence.
Human embodiment of a wedgie.
He'd haunted my daily life with the dedication of an eighties movie villain who'd been told bullying counted as extracurricular credit.
But today?
I wasn't that kid anymore.
I breathed in.
Then planted my feet.
"Derek."
My voice came out louder than I expected.
"You're going to answer for everything you've done to me and my friends."
The gym became quieter.
"I don't care why you did it."
Derek's grin faded slightly.
"The pain was real."
I kept going.
"The jokes."
"The humiliation."
"The times you made me feel worthless."
A murmur moved through the crowd.
"No explanation erases that."
Derek raised one eyebrow.
Then shrugged.
"I don't care."
Of course.
"I don't think what I did was wrong."
My jaw tightened.
"So what's there to dramatize?"
He rolled one shoulder.
"You act like I apologized."
He looked directly at me.
"I didn't."
A pause.
"Because I meant it."
My fists tightened.
Not entirely from anger.
Something heavier.
"But..."
Derek rolled his neck like a fighter warming up.
"I know you've been training."
He looked me over.
"Maybe you've been getting special help from your parents."
He shrugged.
"Doesn't matter."
His expression sharpened.
"That's part of what you have."
Then:
"Use it."
I stared.
"I want to fight the real you."
Oh, the irony.
If only he knew I had an ancient cultivator's soul fragment living inside my head and had spent last night being mentally launched through trees by Rian Vale for five straight hours.
Still...
something about Derek's words hit sideways.
He wanted this.
He wasn't afraid.
He wasn't even doing his usual smug performance.
He was actually challenging me.
Like he genuinely wanted to see what I could do.
Like this entire twisted mess had somehow been building toward today.
"You know..."
I shook my head.
"This isn't normal."
Derek's eyebrow rose.
"You don't get to torment someone for years and then pretend it was some grand training program."
He smirked.
"Sure I do."
No.
No, you really don't.
"If you win..."
His grin widened.
"...that means it worked."
I stared at him.
He was serious.
Completely.
Absolutely.
Delusional.
But serious.
"I don't need your philosophy."
I lowered my stance.
"I just need you to hit the mat."
Derek's grin widened.
"Then make me."
Coach Braddock raised the whistle.
The entire gym seemed to hold its breath.
FWEEEEET!
And I smiled.
Not because I knew I'd win.
Though I really hoped I would.
But because for the first time in years...
I wasn't scared of him.
Sofia Reyes stared at the two boys in the center of the gym mat like she was trying to burn through reality using sheer irritation.
Evan and Derek circled each other, producing enough testosterone-fueled tension to power an action-movie trailer.
Practically the whole student body was watching.
Even Coach Braddock looked suspiciously invested despite pretending this was a completely ordinary gym exercise.
Beside Sofia, Talia leaned against the bleachers, idly twirling a strand of blonde hair around one finger.
"You know..."
Sofia didn't answer.
"Evan's kind of fun now."
That got a reaction.
Sofia turned slightly.
Talia shrugged.
"Like... dangerous-fun."
Her smile appeared.
"If we're lucky, maybe he'll show us his parents' lab someday. I've always wanted to mess with ghost equipment."
Sofia looked back toward the mat.
The same Evan Mercer who used to fumble over his own shoelaces stood in the center of the gym.
Straight posture.
Steady eyes.
No nervous shrinking.
No looking for somewhere to disappear.
Different.
She hated it.
Mostly.
She remembered the things he'd said that day.
Or...
the things spoken through him.
That she was shallow.
That she'd built her identity around attention.
That popularity meant very little if she never became anything beyond it.
She'd wanted to slap him.
Honestly?
She still did.
But the worst part?
She couldn't completely dismiss it.
"...It wasn't only what he said," Sofia murmured.
Talia looked over.
"Huh?"
"My dad."
Sofia folded her arms tighter.
"My brother."
She frowned.
"They started treating me differently."
Talia blinked.
"How?"
"Not deliberately."
Sofia's eyes remained on Evan.
"But now I notice things."
She swallowed her irritation.
"My brother attends board meetings."
Talia listened.
"Dad teaches him things."
"Business."
"Investments."
"How everything works."
Her expression hardened.
"And me?"
She gave a small humorless laugh.
"They buy me things."
Talia tilted her head.
"Well..."
She smiled faintly.
"You are kind of our princess."
Sofia glared.
"Your closet is approximately the size of my bedroom."
"That's not the point."
"Okay."
Sofia sighed.
"Evan—"
She visibly struggled with saying the name.
"—that jerk made me notice it."
Her gaze dropped.
"I've just been floating through everything."
"Parties."
"Clothes."
"Popularity."
"Whatever I wanted."
She looked back toward him.
"And now I can't stop thinking about it."
Talia slowly nodded.
"So you're mad at him because..."
A smile tugged at her lips.
"...he woke you up?"
Sofia's jaw tightened.
"Exactly."
Talia paused.
"That's kind of dumb."
Sofia whipped toward her.
"Excuse me?"
"I mean..."
Talia held up both hands.
"Yeah, he was rude."
Sofia scoffed.
"Extremely."
"But..."
Talia's eyes went back toward Evan.
"We were pretty awful to him."
Sofia said nothing.
"I laughed at Derek's jokes."
Talia shrugged.
"You made some."
Sofia's expression tightened.
"We were part of it."
That one landed harder.
"And now he's..."
Talia searched for the word.
"Different."
She smiled slightly.
"Cooler."
"More mysterious."
"Possibly some kind of vigilante."
Sofia rolled her eyes.
"And we're supposed to be offended because he's not still desperate for our attention?"
"I'm not angry because he's 'cool' now."
Her voice sharpened.
"I'm angry because he made me feel powerless."
Talia studied her.
Then raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe he made you realize you were powerless in ways you hadn't noticed."
Sofia went still.
"That's different."
Sofia groaned and rubbed both temples.
"Why do you suddenly become a therapist whenever I'm trying to be angry?"
"I'm emotionally evolving."
"Stop."
Talia grinned.
Then her expression softened.
"I think we owe him an apology."
Sofia looked at her.
"For what?"
Talia stared.
Sofia sighed.
"Fine."
Then immediately:
"But he's apologizing too."
"For embarrassing you?"
"Publicly."
Talia snorted.
"Good luck."
Sofia frowned.
"That boy just declared emotional war against a guy who treats weighted backpacks like accessories."
She nodded toward the mat.
"I don't think Evan is currently in an apologizing mood."
The whistle blew.
Both girls turned.
Derek moved.
Evan moved.
And for the first time...
neither Talia nor Sofia was watching because they expected Evan Mercer to lose.
Not for blood.
Not even just for drama.
They were watching because somehow, somewhere between supernatural disasters, strange rumors, school politics, and one very public personality change...
Evan Mercer had become someone worth watching.