I had the kid pinned. One hand on his throat, pressed to the cinderblock wall, feet dangling just enough that he knew he was powerless. A low growl built in my chest, the kind that came from somewhere deeper than lungs. Gabriel stood at my side, arms crossed, calm as stone but ready if I gave the word.

“Thane Kieran Conriocht!”

The shout cracked down the hall like a rifle shot. I turned just enough to see Mr. Edwards, face red with fury.

“That’s enough! You and Gabriel — detention. Tonight.”

I dropped the kid. He crumpled, coughing, glaring at me like he’d get his revenge someday. Gabriel smirked as we walked away.
“Totally worth it,” he muttered.

Detention dragged. Erasing chalkboards, stacking chairs, pointless busywork meant to grind us down. By the time we were cut loose, the halls were quiet and the evening light had turned the windows gold.

“Humvee’s out back,” Gabriel said as we rounded a corner.

But that’s when we heard voices — not kids. Adults. Curious, we followed the sound to the glowing doorway of the computer lab.

Inside, the room buzzed with chatter. Rows of beige IBM PCs sat humming, green text glowing on black screens. And at the front of the room, standing beside Mr. Reynolds, was Mark Harcourt.

He didn’t look like the timid, out-of-place kid we’d seen shoved into lockers earlier. Here, he moved with calm authority, walking between desks, answering questions with a patience that made grown men and women nod like disciples.

Gabriel whispered, “That’s Mark. Our Mark.”

I leaned against the doorframe. “Damn right it is.”

We slipped into the back row, unnoticed at first.

“Okay,” Mark was saying, leaning over a woman’s desk. “So, if the screen freezes, you don’t need to hit the power button. Just press Control, Alt, and Delete at the same time.”

The woman gasped when it worked. “Oh! Oh, thank you, Mark. I thought I broke it.”

Mark smiled shyly. “You can’t really break it just typing commands. Promise.”

He moved to another desk. “Mr. Dalton, remember — every line in BASIC ends with a semicolon. Without it, the computer won’t know the instruction is finished.”

An older man in a suit grumbled but typed as told. “It works now.” He looked at Mark like the boy had conjured fire from air.

Gabriel leaned over to me. “They worship him.”

“Damn near,” I said, grinning.

Then I noticed him — the same kid I’d had pinned to the wall earlier. Sitting hunched at a terminal, scowling at the screen.

He raised his hand awkwardly. “Uh, Mark?”

The whole room stilled a little. Even the adults seemed surprised to hear him asking for help.

Mark walked over, soft-spoken as ever. “What’s it doing?”

“It won’t… it won’t run my program. Keeps saying ‘Syntax error.’”

Mark crouched, peering at the code. “You missed a semicolon here.” He pointed gently. “Right there. Add that and it should work.”

The bully actually did it. And when the screen blinked and his program ran, he looked up at Mark with something close to respect. Maybe even fear.

Gabriel stifled a laugh. I just smirked. Tables turned.

After class wrapped, the adults filed out, thanking Mark as if he were their professor. Mr. Reynolds clapped him on the shoulder. “Couldn’t run this program without you, son. You’ve got a gift.”

When it was finally just the three of us left, Mark turned, startled to see us still sitting there. “You guys… saw all that?”

Gabriel grinned wide. “Saw it? We were impressed as hell. You had them eating out of your hand.”

Mark’s ears flushed pink. “I just… I’ve always liked computers. They make sense, you know? Rules that never change. If you get something wrong, it’s just because you missed a step — not because the computer hates you.”

I leaned forward on my desk. “You realize one of those guys hanging on your every word tonight is the same punk who tries to shove you around in the halls, right?”

Mark blinked. “Yeah, I noticed. He was… polite. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Gabriel chuckled. “That’s ‘cause in here, you’re the one with the teeth. He knew it.”

Mark looked down at his shoes, embarrassed, but a little proud too. “I just want to help people understand computers. They’re not scary once you get to know them.”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Neither are wolves, Mark.”

He gave me a strange look at that — puzzled, curious. But he didn’t ask. Not yet.