The students burst into a loud laughter as I tried to support myself but it was too late.
I groaned, more out of shock than pain, as I slowly pushed myself up from the concrete pavement. My palms scraped the rough ground, and my books spilled across the floor. For a moment, everything was still—the murmurs, the gasps, the faint laughter. Then came the voice I dreaded the most.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the rat boy in a Lexus.” he said in a mockery voice.
Jordan.
Of course, it had to be him.
I turned slowly, brushing the dust off my shirt and locking eyes with the one person who hated my existence more than anything else in the world. Jordan stood with his signature sneer, flanked by his usual crew of shadows—two tall boys in designer jackets who wouldn’t last a second in a real
