—their expressions that came from realizing the faculty lounge gossip was about to become legend.
Five.
Vice Principal Ashworth's smirk had widened into something that might generously be called a grin. The old man was enjoying this—probably more than his morning coffee and his secret stash of faculty scandals combined.
Six.
Seven.
Phei stepped onto the stage.
The polished wood creaked slightly under his weight—he was heavier now, denser with new muscle, his body transformed by the molting into something that barely resembled the skinny charity case of three weeks ago—something that made the stage itself seem to groan in acknowledgment.
He walked forward.
Slow.Deliberate. Each step eating the distance between them until he stood directly in front of Marcus.
Face to face.
Eye to eye.
And—this was the part that made several students in the audience actually gasp—taller.
Phei was taller than Marcus.
