“This is ridiculous. I’m not apologizing to some—”
“Four.”
Derek’s girlfriend Jessica grabbed his arm. “Derek, maybe we should just—”
“Three.”
“You’re bluffing,” Derek said, but his voice cracked slightly.
“Two.”
Maya stood up, her chemistry book forgotten on the floor. “Ethan, don’t—”
“One.”
Derek opened his mouth to say something else, but Ethan was already moving.
He didn’t throw a punch. Instead, he reached out with lightning speed and grabbed Derek’s wrist—the same hand that had hit Maya. His grip was iron.
“Ow! Let go!” Derek tried to pull away, but Ethan’s hold was unbreakable.
“Apologize,” Ethan said quietly. “Now.”
Derek’s face contorted in pain. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay?”
“Not to me.” Ethan’s grip tightened. “To her.”
Derek looked at Maya, sweat beading on his forehead. “I’m… I’m sorry, Maya. I shouldn’t have hit you.”
“Louder,” Ethan said.
“I’M SORRY!” Derek practically shouted. “I’m sorry I hit you! It was wrong!”
Ethan held his grip for another three seconds, then released him.
Derek stumbled backward, clutching his wrist. His face was red with humiliation and rage.
“This isn’t over,” he hissed.
Ethan tilted his head slightly. “You’re right. It’s not.”
He pulled out his phone and held it up. On the screen was a perfect video of Derek slapping Maya, recorded from his table in the back.
“I was filming a study session for my psychology class,” Ethan said conversationally. “Funny how these things work out.”
Derek’s eyes went wide. “You can’t—”
