Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

22| Hell hath no fury

I spend the entire night replaying those words: Do me a favor; don't. I'm being ridiculous – not only because I'm the last person someone like Nico would go for, but because this whole thing is supposed to be about saving the gym; I don't have time for distractions.

When my alarm goes off, I lie in bed for what feels like forever and try to mentally prepare for the day. For the first time in a long time, this positive feeling I've woken up with isn't just an act; it's real. Training is going better than ever, I'm starting to think I actually have a chance in my fight with Katarina, and when I scroll through Instagram, GymCon has gained several hundred followers and even more likes.

I set aside my phone and get ready before heading down to breakfast. My mother is at the table, her untouched bowl of oats in front of her as she aggressively scrolls through her phone. If I didn't know better, I'd think something was wrong. Cautious, I walk toward the cupboard and make myself some cereal, able to feel the laser of her eyes burning holes through my skin. Any second now, whatever she's feeling will bubble to the surface, and I'll be in the firing line.

"Cody's teacher just called me," she says, but I don't turn around. I take my time pouring the cereal into my bowl in the hopes of masking my expression. "She said a parent called the school this morning claiming that Cody punched him in the stomach. Are you happy now?"

Her accusatory tone makes me recoil. I wait a few seconds to gather some composure before turning around. "If Cody hit someone, it's because they hit him first. Is the teacher doing something about that?"

My mother shakes her head, clutching her coffee cup like it's giving her the strength she needs to deal with me. "If that were the case, Cody should have gone to the teacher and told them, not resorted to violence, which he only did because of you."

I open my mouth to argue, but she has a point.

"When are you going to grow up, Cassie?" she says. "You're eighteen years old. You have a perfect life. Do you know how lucky you are? There are people in this world with real problems, who have far less than you, and don't act the way you do. Violence isn't going to fix your problems; it's only going to make all of our lives worse."

My cheeks burn hot with shame. She's right, and I know it, but sometimes the hardest thing of all is to change. I know how to be angry, it's easy, and it keeps people away. But being happy? Sometimes, that feels impossible. "I'm sorry," I say, but my voice is so quiet I wonder if she heard. "I didn't want him to get in trouble. I just wanted him to stick up for himself."

My mother shakes her head like she's tired of excuses but doesn't say anything else. This is the worst of her tactics, the sudden silence. Somehow, the words she doesn't say cut deeper than the words she does. When it looks like she's not going to say anything else, I grab my bag, leave my untouched cereal behind, and head to school early. If she wants to pretend to be the mother of the year, she can take Cody to school.

For the rest of the day, I'm in a foul mood. I try to control it, to keep it inside until I can get to the gym, but it's proving too difficult. Daisy can tell there's something wrong, but she knows better than to touch on it. Instead, we spend most of the day discussing anything other than what's upsetting me.

"How's your training going?" she asks at lunch. We're sitting in the cafeteria for once, surrounded by talking and laughter, but I think I'd have preferred the silence of the bleachers. At least there, no one is around to witness my slow descent into misery. "I saw the GymCon Instagram has loads more followers now, so something must be working."

"Yeah," I say, pushing around my pasta, but I barely listen. All I can think about is how my actions have led to my brother getting into trouble. As much as my mother infuriates me, she was one hundred percent right. The last thing I want is for my little brother to turn out like me. It's the last thing my parents want too.