Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

5| Zero policy

Our house is so big that it takes four minutes to shrink in the rearview mirror. When Mom's business kicked off, she hadn't wanted to uproot us by moving, so she'd extended the house to fit her image instead. While the houses around here are bigger than average, ours is now the biggest on the street, known for its white exterior, oak front door, and pristine, latticed driveway. Perfection, or as close to it as my mother could get – if only she could do the same with me.

Sun trickles in through the open car roof. I let Cody choose our music on account of the fact his family sucks, so of course, we have to listen to Blues. I think he's the only eight-year-old kid on this planet into this shit.

"Why do you and mom always have to fight?" he says as he reclines his seat. He's got his head to the window and his sunglasses on like he's King of Blues back here; I don't have the heart to tell him he looks more like an extra out of Spy Kids than Blues Brothers.

"I don't know," I say, looking over. "I guess we just don't agree on a lot of things."

He thinks about this for a moment. "Maybe sometimes you could just pretend to."

"Maybe." But little does he know, I've been doing that most of my life.

We roll to a stop in front of his school. I kiss his cheek and check that he's got everything before watching him bound toward his friends. They jump up and down like they didn't just see each other yesterday afternoon, which, I'll admit, makes me smile. Sometimes I wish I could be that age again. Things were a lot simpler back then.

After dropping him off, I drive to my high school and screech into a parking space. Sometimes I think if my mother just cut me a little bit of slack, I'd be a far nicer person. As it stands, I walk into school with my hands slightly clenched and push through the crowd to get to my locker.

Daisy is already standing there waiting for me. Her face reveals red-rimmed brown eyes and spotty pale cheeks that are flushed. I open my locker without a word and dump my things inside. Turning to face her, I say, "What did they say this time?"

They could be several people, from Danny Monzo and his three stooges to Abby Mason and her coven. It's hard to keep up with the number of people who pick on Daisy because it's always somebody new. Last month, Daisy made a cringy Tik Tok that someone at school found – things have been brutal since.

She wipes her nose and shakes her head. "It's fine, Cassie. Don't."

"Tell me," I say. Between this morning with my mother and seeing her upset, I am not in the mood for bullshit. My heart starts to pound as I step into her line of vision. "Tell me what they said."

She shrugs and looks away before sighing. "Danny and Hyatt told me I was too ugly ever to find a boyfriend."

I slam shut my locker and scan the hall for the duo. With only three minutes to go before the bell rings, they're probably already en route to class. I frown as Daisy takes my arm and steers me down the hallway.

"I love that you look out for me," she says, "but I don't need you to fight my battles, Cass."

I nod, but she's wrong – fighting her battles is all I've ever done. It started in eighth grade after Daisy had just moved to the area from a small, far-off town in Idaho. I'd been walking to class, alone and friendless, just how I preferred, when I saw a couple of girls had stopped to make cow noises. I didn't even think about it; I just saw Stacy Hardman, her mouth pulled into an evil sneer as she mooed like a banshee, and I walked up and decked her in the face. I guess despite the school's zero policy on violence, the principal gave me the benefit of the doubt on account of the fact I'd never been in trouble – at least, not back then – so all I got was a couple of days' suspension.