The Waiting Game
The days after the cafeteria incident stretched like rubber bands ready to snap.
Jayden felt it in the air — the way Rico's crew watched him in the yard, the smirks when he passed in the hallway, the whispers that cut off the second he turned his head.
Dre noticed too. "He's baiting you," he said one night through the wall. "He wants you to swing first so the guards see you as the problem."
Jayden's fists clenched under his blanket. "I don't care. I'll finish it."
"No," Dre's voice came steady, sharp. "That's what they want. Him, the staff, everyone. They don't want to see you survive. They want to see you break."
Jayden hated it. But he also knew Dre wasn't wrong.
---
The Setup
It happened in the showers.
No cameras there, just two guards at the door pretending to watch.
Jayden was rinsing off when he heard the shuffle of footsteps behind him. The air shifted, heavy with intent. He turned just as Rico and two of his boys boxed him in.
Rico's grin was wide. "Told you it wasn't over."
One of the boys cracked his knuckles. The other blocked the exit.
Jayden's chest burned, the fire roaring. Every rule Dre had given him screamed in his head: Pick your battles. Walk away. Stay alive.
But there was no walking away this time.
---
The First Blow
Rico shoved him hard against the wall, the tiles cold against Jayden's back. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone. Now you pay."
The first punch landed in Jayden's ribs. Pain exploded through his side, stealing his breath.
The second punch split his lip, the taste of iron flooding his mouth.
The fire inside roared, screaming for release.
---
The Counter
Jayden ducked the third punch, adrenaline surging. He drove his shoulder into Rico's chest, slamming him back into the wall. The boys shouted, fists flying.
Chaos erupted. The sound of fists on flesh. The sting of knuckles against bone. The shower tiles slick with water and blood.
Jayden didn't think — he just fought. Every punch was Layla's scream. Every block was Ms. Delaney's voice telling him not to prove them right. Every strike was his fire demanding to be seen.
But for every hit he landed, three came back. He was outnumbered, cornered, drowning in fists.
---
The Intervention
Suddenly, a blur crashed into the fight. Dre.
He shoved one of Rico's boys into the wall, his voice low and dangerous. "Not today."
The fight scattered just as the guards finally stormed in, batons raised, shouting orders. Hands yanked Jayden down, pressing his face to the cold tiles.
Rico laughed bitterly through his split lip. "This ain't over, Scrap. Not even close."
---
The Hole
Jayden spent the next two nights in solitary — "the hole."
A concrete room with nothing but a thin mattress, no sound but his own heartbeat echoing against the walls.
He replayed the fight over and over, the fire still burning. He hadn't lost. He hadn't won. He'd just survived.
But one truth burned hotter than the rest:
Without Dre stepping in, he might not have made it out at all.
---
The Bond
When he was finally released back into the block, Dre was waiting.
"You kept your head," Dre said quietly.
Jayden wiped the dried blood from his lip. "I almost lost it."
"You didn't," Dre said. "That's what matters. You're learning."
Jayden looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
For the first time, he didn't just feel like he had a cellmate. He felt like he had a brother.