Fighting Fire With Fire

Principal Lesley’s office was stifling, the air thick with unspoken tension. Max, still smarting from the sucker punch to his jaw, watched as Axel Cortés, the picture of contrite innocence, delivered a perfectly rehearsed apology. "I'm sorry Principal Lesley. I don't know what came over me," Axel droned, his big brown eyes wide with 'regret'. Max knew better. The bruises beneath Axel’s shirt matched the ones on his own body.
"What am I going to do with you two?" Principal Lesley sighed, a rhetorical question. Max knew she’d do nothing; they were too valuable. Axel extended a hand, a theatrical gesture of reconciliation. Max grimaced, forcing himself to shake it. "I'm sorry too," he mumbled, the words tasting like ash.
Outside the office, Axel’s Golden Boy facade shattered. "This is not going to our parents," he snarled, crossing his arms. "I want to have a nice winter break." Max rolled his eyes. "Obviously. Idiot." The truce was over, the fight just beginning.
