Queen of the Campus

17

I chuckled awkwardly, stammering, "I don't know, what do you want, bro?"

"It's him. Beat him up!" The blond-haired guy even checked his phone; someone must have taken a picture of me.

A dozen or so people filed in, and in an instant, I was surrounded by a crowd.

Seeing that escape was impossible, I shoved Molly out of the way, sending her desk flying.

Crash!

Molly's textbooks all fell to the ground, and the desk slammed into the blond-haired thug's chest. The thugs, not expecting me to dare to fight back, swarmed at me. I was desperate; whoever came near, I grabbed a textbook from my desk and smashed it down, hitting them hard. I wasn't afraid anymore. My thought was, as long as you don't kill me, I'll get my revenge. I even glanced at them quickly, trying to memorize their faces.

But there were just too many of them. Some of the books I threw hit them squarely on the forehead, which only fueled their anger. When I'd thrown most of the books off the desk, I tried to reach into the drawer, but they wouldn't give me the chance, kicking me instead. My strength was no match for theirs; at our age, two years was a huge difference.

They kicked me for about seven or eight minutes. Seeing I wasn't resisting, they finally let me go. Blood was trickling from the corner of my mouth, but I didn't bother wiping it away, just stubbornly waiting for them. Once they thought they'd done me, they prepared to leave. My voice rang out, "Hey, you think you can just leave like that? At least leave your name!" I think I've completely gone mad. Even at this point, I still want revenge. My old self is completely dead.

"Ricky from Class 8, Grade 11, want revenge? I'll be waiting for you." He said, leading a group of people away. I saw many people in the class change color when he said his name, but I wasn't afraid anymore, really not afraid. I couldn't be a coward, I couldn't. From beginning to end, not a single person in the class came to my aid, not even my roommates. I even saw Chase still smiling coldly, but I knew he hadn't called them, because the blond-haired guys hadn't spoken to him at all. Of course, maybe they were trying to avoid attention. I looked up and was shocked to see Sophie come in from the doorway. She was slightly surprised to see my bruised and swollen face, but still slowly walked to her seat. I even dared to assume, with the worst possible intentions, that the blond guy was someone she had called to teach me a lesson.

Molly was now lecturing me again. "Lu Yifan, why did you push my desk? I don't care, pick up my books before class starts!" Her face was full of displeasure and annoyance. I finally saw her for who she truly was, but since I had pushed her desk out without her permission, I could only first tidy up her main desk, then slowly gather the textbooks scattered in the aisle—some mine, some hers. A drop of blood on a book, a tear on a book—I swore I would not rest until I avenged myself. I didn't finish cleaning up until the bell rang. Molly was clearly angry, because her once clean textbooks were now quite dirty. I didn't want to see him, I didn't want to see anyone. I slumped onto my desk, even though it was my favorite Chinese teacher and my favorite English teacher.

My English teacher saw me slumped on the desk and quickly asked what was wrong. I looked up and startled her. She urged me to go to the infirmary and even asked someone to help me. I refused, saying I could manage on my own. From that moment on, I hated all my classmates. Indifference isn't something that develops with age.

I left the classroom but didn't go to the infirmary. After all, it was just a minor injury. I went straight to the playground. As expected of the city's No. 1 High School, the soccer field had a nice lawn. I found a corner and lay down.

Looking up at the blue sky, what should I do?

Thinking and thinking, I fell asleep. I vaguely heard people talking, chattering like birdsong, but it was quite pleasant. I opened my eyes and slowly sat up. It hurt so much. That's when I noticed several girls around me. They were obviously talking about me, but when I turned around, they were all startled. Because there was still blood on the corner of my mouth.

These girls were all dressed up and quite pretty, but I was annoyed because they were disturbing my sleep, and they didn't even realize it. "Hey, what happened to that wound on your face?" a girl with a baby face asked, looking like a curious child. To be honest, she was very cute, but I now know that girls are fickle, like Sophie. When I first met her, she smiled sweetly, but now she's stingy with her smiles towards me. I ignored her, stood up, and walked away. I wasn't planning to go to class today; I'd already asked for leave.

Unexpectedly, the girl started walking after me and blocked my way. "What's wrong with you? Why didn't you answer my question?" she said, sounding quite accusatory.

"I said, beautiful, what do you think happened to that wound? Someone hit me, huh? Okay, are you satisfied now?" I said, and started walking away again.

"Well, you're really pathetic," the girl said, lecturing me instead of letting me leave. "You're obviously not a good student; only thugs fight."

I was already angry, and now I was even angrier. "Are you f*****g crazy? Who do you think you are? You're jumping to conclusions without even knowing what happened. Get out of my way!" I shoved her, but the girl was too fragile; she fell to the ground with a thud. Luckily it was grass; if it had been concrete, her flowing white dress might have hit her knee, and she might have been left with a scar.