Learning Curve

Scottie

Ace bounces off Finn slowly at first, and then faster as Finn helps him to the side. One second, Finn’s five feet away, and the next, he’s right here. I watch like I’m seeing a train wreck happen while I’m standing on the tracks.

Dane’s eyes widen briefly as Finn gets in his face, towering over him by a good three or four inches. Finn’s energy vibrates, so much I would swear I can feel it like a current in the ground, but for all intents and purposes, it seems controlled. If it weren’t, I imagine Dane would be pulverized already. “It’s time for you to get the hell out of here,” he tells my ex-boyfriend unequivocally, his pronunciation clear and his message unmistakable. “Go to class or find somewhere to cool down, whatever. Just fucking go.”

There’s a beat of time—just one, where the air feels thick and I can hear the sound of my own blood in my ears—before everything shifts and turns on its head.

Dane’s eyes narrow, and he swings an unexpected punch, landing his fist on the underside of Finn’s waiting chin. Finn’s head jerks violently, and I let out a scream just as Ace steps in front of me and holds me back with one strong arm, preparing for a fight.

Finn’s control is beyond impressive as he settles onto his toes once again, almost as though the punch never even happened. “Feel better?” he taunts Dane, a barely there smile curling up his plump lips. I don’t understand how it’s even possible, but he almost seems like he likes to be hit in the face. Which is insane, so I know I must be imagining things.

“You get the one free shot, understand? The next one, though, is going to end with a whole lot of fucking hurt on your end. I suggest you get out of here before the urge to tempt it overwhelms you.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” Dane says instead, doubling down with yet another swing of his fist.

I gasp, and Ace grabs me by my arms and pulls me back even farther. My gaze, though, is glued to the action. This time, Finn blocks the punch, catching Dane’s hand in his grip and twisting his arm behind his back. Dane’s posture is completely deflated as he gets on his toes to keep from falling forward. It’s humiliating and emasculating in a way I know he can’t stand.

“Fuck,” Dane cries out then, rage in every hard line of his face. “You can have the stupid fucking cunt!”

I hear a gasp behind me that sounds like Kayla and then nothing but the sickening crunch of Finn’s fist landing a direct blow to Dane’s face. It’s audibly overwhelming, the thick sound of physical devastation. There’s absolutely no way his nose isn’t broken.

From there, things devolve quickly, the two of them going at each other with a savagery I’ve never experienced before. Finn’s blows make contact every time, and I swear Dane looks more and more like a scared little boy as the seconds tick by. People yell and shout around us, but all I can see is the fight. Finn stands Dane up when he can’t stand up on his own and hits him again, and both of my hands fly to my mouth in an attempt to stop the scream I know I’m emitting involuntarily.

I don’t love Dane—in fact, the more I think about all the moments we’ve had recently, the more my feelings seem like hate—but watching Finn beat him up is like something out of an action movie. It’s guttural in every possible way.

I know it’s about me, but it feels…brutally personal for Finn too. His fighting skills are so much better than Dane’s. Frankly, I’ve never seen anyone fight like this.

Ace, secure in the fact that I’m not diving headfirst between their meaty fists, steps in again, trying to separate them. At first, I think it’s because he wants Dane to stop getting demolished, but when I allow my eyes to leave their clench for one second, I see the more likely reason.

Our teacher, Professor Winslow, is headed this direction at a run.

“Yo!” Professor Winslow yells. “Stop!” I have no doubt he’ll be able to handle the situation when he gets here—he’s a big, muscled-up guy. But Finn’s physique looks like it won’t be far off from matching it in a couple of years.

“Finn! Dane!” Professor Winslow shouts, this time from the middle of their fray. “Stop right now!”

Finn’s careful control of earlier reengages first, and he steps back, wiping just one tiny speck of blood from his lip while Ace clasps him on the shoulder. Dane, on the other hand, is much worse for wear. His normally kempt, preppy face looks like it got run over by a truck, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to swing, hoping he’ll manage some sort of cheap shot.

“Dean’s office,” Professor Winslow barks, his face hard. “Now.”

“Ty, Finn was just defending himself—” Ace attempts to interject, but he’s stopped by a harsh look and a silencing hand.

“Not right now, Ace.”

“But, Ty—”

“Ace,” Finn says then with a firm shake of his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ace’s eyes narrow. He’s a good friend, but even in the short time I’ve known him, he’s made it abundantly clear he’s not the type to drop something just because someone suggested he should.

“Fine. But if you need bail money, I know plenty of investors.”

Finn manages a small smile at that—so does Ty Winslow, though I’m thinking he’s hoping no one notices—and everything gentle I’ve known about Finn since the first day I met him comes back into startling focus.

Finn Hayes is a lover, not a fighter. But boy oh boy, is it obvious he’s spent some time moonlighting as the second anyway.