My heart does something unforgivable.
Leaps.
A traitorous kick against my ribs, like a dog hearing the key in the lock.
The world blooms. Sharp. Bright. Electric.
For half a second the world has colour again. Relief floods me so fast I almost smile.
They're here. Something is happening. I'm awake.
Then my brain slams back online. The smile dies before it reaches my mouth.
No. Not them. Not again.
The corridor tilts. Every bruise from our last encounters lights up at once, screaming warnings. My knees soften, like someone just pulled the bones out. I take a step back. Too late.
Avery's eyes find mine across the distance. Not playful. Not sly. Raging. Burning. Every ounce of her fury aimed at me. And I already know I'm not walking away from this.
Arms folded. Jaw locked. Lexxa stands like a loaded trap—silent, coiled, waiting for movement. Casey jitters in place, heel-bounce, heel-bounce, trying to shake electricity out of her bones, rehearsing all the ways she could rearrange mine.
Avery doesn't yell. Doesn't rush.
She just walks.
Slow steps, perfect posture. Confidence that says she already knows how this ends.
The queen is on her way to the chopping block.
I'm the head.
Casey spits the first bullet, teeth flashing, grin jagged as broken glass.
"You gutless, fucking cowards… sending your ugly, moronic friend Finnley fucking Rabbitté to do your dirty work!"
A new voice slices through—Lexxa, sharp as bent metal.
"And avoiding us all day, Spunga."
Then the tilt.
Slow. Surgical.
Avery's eyes finish the job the others started: same executioner focus, just colder—like the temperature drops five degrees the instant they land on me.
Air tightens around my throat. I choke up something that barely qualifies as speech.
"Avoiding… you? We… we don't share any classes."
A scoff detonates out of Casey, her whole body jerking forward, venom fizzing between her teeth.
"Oh, so that makes it okay? Hiding behind your precious little schedules and hallways?"
Avery tilts her head—slow, surgical. Her eyes frost over.
"You think distance makes you safe, Spunga?"
A breath grazes my shoulder, heat pressing close. Lexxa's voice lashes across my spine.
"Safe is just a word for someone who hasn't learnt what pain feels like yet, Spunga."
My throat cracks. A mumble crawls out. Pathetic. Quiet.
"…my name is Simon Spungler. Not Spunga…"
If they hear it, it dies in the same moment.
Ignored. Buried. Worthless.
Laughter snaps through the corridor—Casey again, venom bubbling at the edges.
"And you… little shit? Try to run. We'll drag your sorry ass back every fucking step, you piss‑pants dweeb."
Avery's eyes lock onto me. Pin me like a nail. Slow. Steady. I can feel the decision forming behind her stare.
"Start running, Spunga… or start apologising."
The corridor holds still.
My legs don't. Heat crawls low. Knees threaten to fold. Throat burns.
"…Apologise? For what? I did all the homework… it wasn't difficult."
Casey's already vibrating—knee bouncing, grin splitting, venom fizzing off her tongue
"He's mocking you! Saying it was easy...like you're fucking dumb! Can you believe this little piss‑puppy?!"
Something in Avery snaps. Not loud. Just… sharp. Her jaw hooks tight. Her spine straightens. A crack that isn't sound but intention.
"Easy? EASY? You think I'm a fucking idiot? You think you're better than me because it was 'easy'?"
The corridor shrinks. Air thins. Her steps feel like knives dragging on the floor. My stomach flips, trying to crawl somewhere safer. Knees soften, useless.
Then—impact. Lockers shriek as Lexxa drives me back. Spine jars. Metal hums behind my ribs. Fingers clamp my shoulder—iron, bone, punishment.
"You're the dumb one, Spunga." Breath like a cold blade.
Something drops inside me. Heat. Shame. That awful electric buzz at the base of my spine.
A shudder. A slip. My body betrays me, trembling, too tight, locked in itself. Every muscle clenched, every nerve screaming.
Casey's eyes drop instantly. Her laugh detonates—brutal, delighted, deafening.
"Jesus Christ, already? We haven't even touched him, and he's leaking!"
Avery steps so close her forehead nearly brushes mine. Mint and venom on her breath.
Her voice drops to a whisper that fills the hallway.
"Look at that. One sentence, and he's sweating like a fool. We really broke him, didn't we?"
Everything seizes—nerves coiling, breath stuttering, my body locking in on itself. Every muscle clenches, every nerve screams.
Casey cackles, brutal and hungry.
"Oh my god… Would you LOOK at him? Pathetic little piss‑puppy."
I didn't. Just sweat.
My brain does the thing it always does—tries to flatten them into flat images, like the girls on screens, like the bullies in anime who freeze mid-frame.
But they don't freeze. They breathe. They close in. They smell like sweat and perfume and rage. They look at me like they're about to devour whatever's left of me.
This isn't TV.
Not anime.
Not a video game
No pause button. No safe distance. No static frame to step away from.
Bodies close. Too close. Heat presses into me like sharpened gravity.
Lexxa's breath grazes my neck, slow and deliberate, sampling the fear bleeding off my skin.
A snort-laugh crackles beside my ear—pure Casey. She vibrates on her heels, teeth flashing, spit catching the corridor lights. Predator on springs, she finds my panic hilarious.
Avery slides into my peripheral, a softer footstep, controlled, precise. As if the tilt of the head was rehearsed for maximum damage. Eyes burn, pupils wide, scanning like a jeweller checking for cracks.
Voices slice through the hallway. One low and dangerous—Lexxa's verbal scalpel.
One loud, chaotic—Casey's wildfire cackle.
One sweet-but-poisoned—Avery's honey trap.
Not dialogue. Not words on a screen.
Sound crawls under my skin, vibrating bone. Every syllable drills in, hooks behind my ribs, twists.
Heat radiates off them. I swear I see it distort the air. The twitch of a lip, the flex of a jaw, the tilt of a chin—magnified, amplified, predatory.
My brain stutters. Motion. Sound. Smell. Heat. Threat. Fury.
Too much.
Too real.
Too close.
Breathing turns optional. Thinking becomes a rumour.
I'm trapped.
And they are huge. All three of them. A wall of heat and grin and danger.
I try to speak.
Throat clamps. Knot. Rope. No air.
Maybe… if I stare past them, pretend they aren't inches away…
Maybe I can pull a word from whatever scraps of me are left.
But a sharper thought hits first.
Why is she angry?
I did it all.
I did Avery's homework. Every word answered, every problem solved, every diagram drawn.
Every paragraph phrased, every calculation double-checked.
Every step mapped, neat, deliberate, leaving nothing unfinished, nothing sloppy.
I done all of it for her—perfect, meticulous, impossible to fault.
And yet… fury.
Eyes carve me open. Every inch says I crossed a line.
Stomach twists. Legs wobble. Chest hammers.
I did exactly what she asked. Not enough.
Why the fuck are they doing this to me?
Fear doubles. Confusion slices sharper. Pulse drums. Limbs weak. Whole body screams—run.
A-lean in. The words come from Avery, low and heavy, cutting through the air.
"You embarrassed me today. A lot."
Fear wants to swallow me whole.
Curiosity rips past it, claws first.
She… embarrassed… by me?
Words spill before thought can catch up.
"I… I did it all… every part of the homework… how… how did I embarrass you?"
Her stare drills into me, unflinching. I don't know what I expected—applause? Gratitude? Instead, the hallway seems to shrink around me, Lexxa's presence behind me, Casey bouncing with cruel anticipation. Heart thrashing. Lungs burning.