Seth sat in a comfortable black leather chair across from the school psych, very much aware of the limits of what he could say, even if those were the things ripping apart his insides. The office had a very annoying ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ sign on the right and a bookcase piled with self-help books Seth wouldn’t voluntarily read in a million years. The only one that looked remotely interesting to him was a small purple volume titled The Obstacle is the Way. The psych peered at him over stylish rectangular glasses, her hair a well-ordered brunette bun.

“Let’s begin. What happened today?”

“I stopped bullies from being bullies,” deadpanned Seth.

“Hm. And why did you feel the need to do that?”

Seth’s anger swirled within his void. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Hurting someone is the right thing?”

Seth grit his teeth together, already hating where this was going. He’d been subjected to this line of questioning before by people of a more pacifist nature than him. “Sometimes.”

“And what times are those?”

“When someone else is being hurt.”

“Violence justifies violence?”

“Sometimes.”

“Hm.” She wrote something down on her notepad. “Seth, hurting someone is always wrong. Violence is never a good thing.”

“That’s your opinion,” said Seth.

“Seth, I know you practice martial arts, but that is a sport, and doesn’t belong in the halls of our school.”

Seth pursed his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

“Seth, I need you to participate in these sessions, otherwise it’s just going to be me telling you how you have to behave to keep attending the school. I’ve looked over your file. You’ve been in a troubling amount of altercations this year alone and it seems you’ve had at least one every year.”

“Those files mention I’ve never started any of them?” No, not true. Seth thought back to slamming that kid against the wall. He hid a grimace.

“Those files mentioned you’ve never walked away from a fight.”

“People haven’t let me.”

“Why do you feel like people won’t let you walk away?”

“Because they won’t.”

“No, why do you feel that they won’t?”

Seth shifted in his chair. “Look, I’ve been bullied before I was able to stand up for myself. I know what happens if you walk away. Even if you do get away, they just know they can do it again.”

“Why do you feel the need to fight?”

Because there was a void in him now that only violence satisfied. “Because sometimes it’s necessary.”

“I see. What do you feel when you’re fighting.”

Seth swallowed. “I don’t.”

“Surely, you feel something. Fear? Anger?”

“Adrenaline.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Do you like the adrenaline rush?”

“A bit. I wouldn’t do martial arts if I hated it.”

“How does the rush make you feel?”

Seth bit back the response of alive. “Sharper. I’m used to it. It doesn’t make me feel anything. Just focuses me.”

“Do you feel you need this focus?”

“When I fight, sure.” Seth looked at the clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed. It felt like an hour.

“How often do you train?”

“I’m still recovering from my injuries.”

“When you aren’t injured.”

“Almost every day.”

She wrote in her notepad. “Do you take time off?”

“This is my first time off in years.”

“Hm. Let’s talk about your injuries.”

Seth looked away.

“Walk me through the events of the night leading up to the party where you were shot.”

“I’m not talking about it.”

“Seth, you need to if you want to move past it.”

“I’ll move past it on my own.”

“You don’t have your outlet right now.” She adjusted her glasses. “There is clearly pent-up emotion in you. Normally, you would probably let it out through training, and that is, for the most part, healthy. But you don’t have that, and several other students have suffered at your hand because of it.”

“They needed-” Seth stopped himself. “I’ll be fine when I get back to training.”

“I’m sure, but you’re not, so let’s talk. Do you remember getting shot?”

Dark forest, wood splintering around him. Indescribable pain in his leg, stomach, and shoulder. “Yeah,” he clenched his hands.

“What happened before that?”

“People started shooting up the party I was at.”

“What were you doing at that party? And remember, we have confidentiality, you’re not going to get in trouble.”

“Drinking,” he lied.

“What else were you doing?”

“Talking to people.”

“You weren’t fighting?”

Seth sighed.

“I’ve seen the video. You’re very good at fighting, but you shouldn’t be in a place like that, engaging in what is literal bloodsport.”

“It’s just vale tudo rules. It’s not bloodsport.”

“You’re a teenager, you shouldn’t be fighting in a bare-knuckle, no-holds-barred match.”

“Happens in Brazil and no one bats an eye.”

“And like that party, there are also mass shootings in Brazil. Like attracts like, Seth. If you keep behaving violently, violence will keep finding you.”

Seth looked back to her. “You’re saying it was my fault I got shot?”

“No, Seth. Don’t try that. I’m saying that you inflamed a bad situation today into a worse one.”

“No, I stopped a kid from being bullied.”

Now she sighed and looked at the clock. “I’m afraid that we’re out of time, Seth. We will be meeting at the same time next week. I need you to stay out of fights between now and then or the school will be forced to expel you.”

Seth shrugged. “If someone is getting bullied, I’m going to step in.”

“No, you’re going to get a teacher.”

“Right, because letting the kid get fucked up for five minutes is the right thing to do.”

“Language.”

“Fucking respond to what I said,” said Seth, the demon suddenly on the edge of rage within him.

Her eyebrows raised. “I implore you to not speak that way to those in authority, Seth.”

“I’ll be here next week,” he said. “We’re done.” Seth grabbed the door handle and walked out, the anger roiling inside him as he moved his way through the empty halls of school toward the parking lot entrance.

A noise caught his ears and he cut left to the auditorium. A sign hung on the wall.

Macbeth practice. Do not disturb.

Seth looked in through the slit-windows in the doors at the group of teenagers enacting out a scene on stage. One of them was Madeline. Seth swallowed and watched for a moment, hoping no one would see him and ask why he was spying on his ex-girlfriend. He wasn’t. At least not by intention. Normally Seth would try out for the spring semester play, but with both Madeline and Emma in the theater group, he felt like that might be a no go. Another thing he loved doing lost to the wind.

Seth turned from the door and resumed his walk to the parking lot, hoping running with Andrew would clear his head.