From Bullets To Billions

The first morning bell had barely stopped ringing when the loud-speaker crackled to life. Every student in every classroom sat up a little straighter, half-expecting the usual reminders about field-trip forms or cafeteria menus.

Instead, the principal's voice wavered across the corridor:

"Students and staff, I'm deeply sorry to inform you that our classmate Jay Woods has passed away."

A stunned hush rippled through the school. Only a few weeks earlier they'd heard a similar announcement about Sam, and now, Jay? It felt impossible, like some cruel pattern no one could break.

Whispers blew through the corridors: maybe the campus was cursed, maybe something darker was at work. Rumours swirled even faster than the brittle autumn leaves outside.

Everyone already knew the bare bones. The night before, there'd been a hit-and-run on Copper Street, and by breakfast the tragedy had a name: Jay. Teachers called it a tragic accident, an unfortunate fluke, and tried to shepherd everyone back to worksheets and whiteboards.

Only Max knew it hadn't been an accident at all.

Jay's death hit the students in a very different way compared to what happened with Sam.

Particularly for those in the Bloodline group.

Many of them had grown close to Jay. He wasn't just someone they shared classes with, he had helped them whenever he could. He'd stepped in to stop them from getting into serious trouble more times than they could count.

In the middle of lessons, as Max sat there in silence, he overheard several conversations. Stories from others about Jay, about what he had done for them. About how he had their backs.

And everyone seemed to agree on the same thing: that there were plenty of people who probably should've gone before Jay. It wasn't fair. It never was.

When the first fifteen-minute break arrived, Joe rushed over to where Max was sitting.

Without saying anything at first, Joe dragged a chair over and then instinctively pulled another one next to it. But before he could sit, he froze and paused for a moment.

"Crap... what the heck was I thinking," Joe muttered, suddenly pushing the second chair away.

Usually, during break, Jay would come over to them. It had become such a habit for Joe to always get him a seat.

"Don't put it back," Max said, glancing at him. "Just leave the seat there. Empty for now."

It was a strange request, but Joe did it anyway. He nodded, sat down in the seat beside the empty one, and tried not to look at it.

"Hey, I've had a few people message me since last night," Joe began, rubbing his hands together. "They've been asking questions. I told them if they need anything, to come to me, like they used to go to Jay."

He looked frustrated as he continued.

"I'm trying my best to cover things. I didn't realize how much he did, man. There's always some small argument happening. Some little drama. And he was the one who took care of it all."

Joe leaned in, voice lowering. "Anyway, I can handle that. But the thing that's been bothering me is, they keep asking what really happened to Jay. I told them it was just a hit-and-run... but what do you want me to say?"

"For now, keep it that way," Max replied without emotion. "That's how it is for them. No point making everyone stress over an imaginary enemy."

"But didn't Aron say it was those Chalkline Boys?" Joe asked, a sharpness in his voice.

"I did," Max answered. "And it's still not an enemy they need to worry about."

Joe clenched both of his fists and placed them firmly on the table.

"Max... we're part of the Bloodline group too," Joe said, his voice more serious than before. "You're the one who told me, if I want to stay, I have to be ready. Aware of the dangers. These Chalkline Boys, or whoever they are, might be coming after you... but we're with you. I want to pay them back for what they did to Jay. So don't be afraid to use us. All of us."

In Max's mind, if this had been the White Tigers, the gang he once led, he would've accepted Joe's offer without hesitation.

But this wasn't the same.

His thoughts kept bouncing between who they were now, just students, and what he knew they were capable of becoming. It weighed on him more than he expected.

In one of the other classrooms, two female students were also discussing what had happened to Jay Woods.

"It sucks so much. I don't even know how to feel," Cindy said, her voice distant. "It just feels so... unreal. That guy was so nice too. And now, what? We'll never get to speak to him again?"

She let out a long sigh.

"I guess it really puts everything into perspective. One day, someone's here, and the next... they're gone. I finally get why you worry so much about Max. Especially if he's involved in something serious."

Cindy couldn't stop thinking about her father either. She'd bugged him over and over again, asking who Max really was. But every time, he refused to tell her anything.

If Jay's death really had something to do with Max... did that mean her dad was in danger too?

The thought sounded ridiculous even in her own head, and she shook it away quickly.

"You know," Cindy said, her voice suddenly more playful, "this is why you have to take your chance, Abby. We never know what'll happen tomorrow, so you need to take the chance today. You should confess your feelings to Max and see what happens!"

"Confess?" Abby repeated, her voice trembling.

Immediately, her mind was pulled back to the night before. The moment when her lips had touched Max's. The heat of that memory burned across her face.

And then... the image of Max stepping out of the shower. Her face went redder.

"C-Cindy," Abby stuttered, "do you think I have a baby face?"

"A baby face?" Cindy tilted her head. "I mean, you look your age. Maybe you dress a bit like a baby, though. Wait, did someone say you look young?"

Cindy had a knack for sniffing out the truth. When Abby didn't answer, she just smiled knowingly.

Finally, the school day came to an end. For once, Max was relieved it was over. His mind was nowhere near right.

He still wasn't sure what to do about the Rejected Corps, whether he should go after them, or focus entirely on taking out the Chalkline Boys himself.

As he walked with Joe, Cindy, Abby, and Sheri, Abby had suggested that maybe it wasn't a good idea for Max to be alone right now.

Max didn't say anything about them joining him. He didn't complain, either.

When they stepped out of the school gate, a voice called out from nearby.

"Max Smith?"

Max turned his head, and standing there was a slim woman, mid-twenties, leaning casually against the outer wall of the school grounds. She had short black hair and wore a sleek, all-black outfit.

She wasn't a student. That was obvious.

"It'd be best if you don't ignore me," the woman said, a small smirk forming. "Unless you want me to say your real name in front of your friends."