The freckles seemed to jump off Skip’s burning, snarling face.
Landon wanted to say that they were teammates.
He wanted to say that he hadn’t done anything wrong.
But he couldn’t get a single word out before Skip hammered him again. Landon covered his head with both arms, and the blows struck his chest and shoulders before Mr. Edwards yelled, “Stop! Immediately!” He yelled at another teacher to get Mr. Sanders.
Megan had dropped her books, and she stood crying as Landon slid his spine down the lockers and took a seat on the floor, covering his head again with his arms and resting it between his knees. One of his battery packs hung loose, and he slipped it back behind his ear.
He glanced up to see Skip scowling as the principal raced toward them.
Megan touched his arm. “Are you okay, Landon?”
Landon almost smiled to see her. “Yes. I’m fine. I don’t know why . . .”
Megan looked over at Skip, who was now being marched down the hall by Mr. Sanders. “We . . . I . . . broke up. I told him, and everyone, to leave you alone.”
Landon’s heart swelled.
Mr. Edwards leaned down. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Landon said, hoping Genevieve wasn’t among the hundred-or-so gawking students.
“Come on.” Mr. Edwards helped Landon to his feet. “Let’s get you to the nurse.”
Landon felt a bolt of panic. He wanted this to end, and he shook himself free. “No, I’m fine, Mr. Edwards. Please. Nothing happened.”
“You were taking a beating when I got out here.” Mr. Edwards took hold of Landon’s arm again. “Come on. Nurse. Then Mr. Sanders. This isn’t the Wild West. We need to fix this thing.”
As Landon marched through the open-mouthed crowd toward the nurse’s office, he knew that no matter how good Mr. Edwards’s intentions were, some things just couldn’t be fixed.