Page 20 of Payback
“Um... I don’t have it,” I mumbled.
“What?” he questioned.
“I... don’t have it,” I responded with a higher pitch.
Our teacher sighed in disappointment, thinking I was an indifferent student who didn’t take his class seriously. He seemed more captivated by Alison’s charm than anyone else, which wasn’t surprising considering the rumors of their secret relationship. Other students chuckled upon witnessing my predicament, but my attention was fixed on Alison, her smug expression not escaping my notice. She was well aware of the prank I had been subjected to. Whether she had orchestrated it or simply been informed about it was inconsequential. She seemed to relish in my public humiliation, casually brushing her long hair aside. An air of satisfaction surrounded her as her boyfriend attempted to caress her neck. To my surprise, she brushed him off, rejecting his touch. What was happening between the powerful couple? I couldn’t quite decipher it, but I hoped it would keep Alison occupied for a while.
Once the class ended, I always waited until everyone else had left. However, to my dismay, Alison and her group remained behind. They approached me, forming a circle after the teacher had departed. My eyes were fixed on Alison as she took a seat on my desk, crossing one leg over the other. Our school mandated uniforms, and Alison’s green pleated skirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a significant amount of skin. I averted my gaze, hoping to find something other than the tyrant in front of me.
“What happened to your books, doggy?” she asked, fully aware of the situation.
“I need new ones,” I mumbled.
“Pardon?” she responded, pretending not to hear.
“I need new ones,” I repeated, met with their collective laughter.
“Again? You really should take better care of your belongings.”
I sighed, sliding further down my seat in an attempt to escape, but one of her goons stood behind me, pulling me upright. I gasped in surprise at the contact. Physical touch was something I disliked due to its association with painful memories. I tried to pull away, but his grip remained firm. He was a burly football player, while I was a thin, almost fragile figure. Meanwhile, Alison toyed with the edge of her skirt, her movements not escaping my attention. She noticed where my gaze had wandered, despite my efforts to hide it—she always had a way of knowing. A chuckle escaped her lips as she tugged her skirt slightly higher. I hastily averted my gaze, not wanting to see more, but her companion behind me placed a large hand on the top of my head, forcibly turning it back to face her.
“Is that loser staring at my girlfriend’s legs?” Alison’s boyfriend approached, standing behind her. He placed an arm around her and drew her close. This time, she welcomed his touch, smiling.
“He is.”
“Perhaps I should teach him a lesson about staring for too long at something that doesn’t belong to him,” he threatened. I braced myself for what I thought would be physical harm, but Alison shook her head.
“No, doggy has already learned the consequences of looking too long, haven’t you, doggy?” she quipped, reaching out and patting my cheek. Her touch landed on a bruise, and it made me hiss. “Oh, what’s this?”
With a flick of her hand, she brushed aside my dark hair, revealing the bruise beneath my eye. She reveled in the sight, clearly enjoying it.
“I see. Tell me, doggy, are you meeting other bullies elsewhere? Have you gone behind our backs and found someone else?”
I shook my head, refusing to disclose how I had acquired the bruise.
“Then what’s this?” she probed, using her thumb to apply pressure to the bruise. I let out a howl of pain, attempting to pull away, but her companion held me in place.
“Stop!” I pleaded, the pain intensifying. After a few seconds, she relented, but the damage had been done. The dull pain had transformed into a throbbing ache, sending waves of discomfort throughout half of my face. The eye area contained numerous nerve endings, and the pain signals overwhelmed me.
“I can’t believe you would prefer someone over us,” she taunted. “Or did any of you guys do this?”
They all shook their heads.
“Then who is it?” she demanded to know.
I shook my head. “I fell.”
“You fell?” she laughed. “You’re resorting to the battered-spouse excuse?”
“I fell,” I repeated.
“Fine, cling to your excuse. Just don’t forget who truly makes your life a living hell, doggy,” she asserted, retrieving a nail file from her pocket. I watched as she held it before me, well aware of the harm she could inflict. Her companion behind me grabbed my arm, forcing it onto the table and exposing my forearm. Gradually, she directed the tip of the nail file toward my skin. The initial contact was just a slight prick, but she proceeded to press harder and harder, causing me to wince in pain as the sensation intensified. She dragged the nail file along my skin, and I was on the verge of screaming when a hand covered my mouth, muffling any sound. When blood began to flow, she finally ceased, leaving me with a burning ache.
“Now I’m certain you’ll remember, won’t you, doggy?”
I was compelled to nod, unable to control my own movements. They all retreated, yet I understood that this was merely the beginning of their day-long torment. Perhaps even Alison’s lover’s quarrel wouldn’t save me. It might only make her more vindictive.
Chapter 11
