Eric had long finished calling the names and proceeded with the rest of today's assembly.
"That's all," Eric announced, his gaze sweeping over the sea of students below.
"Now, we intently chose to call the names of the participants before everyone to celebrate your colleagues and motivate you to study harder."
Murmurings ruptured immediately, a low, angry tide.
"Seriously? Now, they're humiliating us?"
"Who cares about the stupid reward, anyways?"
"You know, my father is also one of this school's sponsors," another student bragged, his voice thick with entitlement.
"This just means I have to study harder," a different voice admitted, laced with a strong resolution and genuine respect for the qualified students.
"You can now applaud and leave the hall," Eric spoke into the microphone, his amplified voice cutting through their accusations and murmurings, dismissing their resentment with a finality that brooked no argument.
The students did as told. Well, not before further waves of discontent murmurings about humiliation and unfair markings rolled through the emptying hall.
The moment the main body of students surged out, Eric turned to the fifty qualified participants.
"You're all expected to form a group of five and write your group members' names for submission. After that, you're to return to your classes and await further instructions."
The students scattered immediately, driven by the urgency of the task, forming alliances with classmates and acquaintances from other classes.
James's original group had wanted to maintain their class unit, but the other two students had already abandoned them, mentioning something about not being interested in a group with a 'new boy they know from nowhere.'
James still stood frozen, a figure of barely contained fury, directly confronting Jeremy.
His body was dangerously shaking, vibrating like a volcano on the precipice of eruption. His eyes, flared in reaction to the intensity of his emotions, were dangerously tinged amber.
Jeremy, noticing the faint, unsettling glow in the boy's eyes, reacted instantly. He instinctively closed the distance between them, attempting to 'soothe' the imminent explosion.
"Hey, boy! Will ya calm down? This ain't no way to greet an old friend, is it?" Jeremy voiced nervously, the earlier smugness completely wiped from his facial expression, replaced by a strained anxiety.
James had also recognized the terrifying speed of his escalating rage; he was literally on the verge of springing on the figure before him. To tame his wild, destructive emotions, he slammed his eyes shut, forcing himself through a few desperate breathing exercises.
"What do you want? Why are you here?!" James inquired, his voice a dangerous, low-pitched rasp—cold enough to draw blood.
"I owe you no explanation, James. I've come to join this little posse," Jeremy replied, completely unfazed by the malice layered in James's tone.
"You can't join! We're complete, and even if we weren't, we don't want you," James responded without a flicker of hesitation.
"Huh... James, we're not complete and why can't he?" Kelvin asked, getting between the two, utterly puzzled by the electric tension crackling around them.
"He seemed to be intelligent enough to be your rival at Middleton, if I'm not mistaken. He should be a perfect addition," Kelvin added with an idiosyncratic indifference that somehow managed to make the loaded words sound harmless.
James was stunned. He remembered mentioning Jeremy only once, and that was just yesterday—yet the blue-headed boy had somehow retained the detail.
"Ah! You missed me, huh?" Jeremy chuckled, his smugness briefly returning.
"Fine! You wanna know why this bastard can't join?! I'll tell ya!" James shouted, his anger returning with unnatural, terrifying speed, drowning out his momentary surprise.
◇◇◇◇
It was a brilliant, sun-drenched day in Middleton, and the main hall was as loud as a local fish market. The bell had recently chimed for break, and students were pouring from lecture rooms, a torrent of noise and energy.
The first semester of Grade 10 was just days from ending, and the students were more than delighted to chatter about holiday plans and the looming results.
In the same chaotic hall, a muscular teen with a close-cropped buzz cut and a few strands of hair hanging stubbornly on his chin was visibly consumed by a raw, grinding annoyance.
He kept muttering to himself, his frustration boiling over, and was hitting the walls like they personally owed him money.
He was striding frantically down the hall, desperate to find an escape from the suffocating clutch of his inner turmoil.
Just then, he noticed a brown-haired boy clutching a precarious load of books, clearly about to return them to the lockers.
'No better way to quell your anger than passing it on a rival who is always compared to you and consistently manages to beat you in all subjects,' Jeremy's dark thoughts had screamed.
Hastily, he rushed toward James, slamming into him with his tank-like body, instantly knocking the books out of the poor boy's clutch and sending them sprawling across the polished floor.
"Oof! Watch it, James," said Jeremy, the corners of his cheek turning into a wild, menacing grin.
"What... what was th–that for?" James gasped, clutching his stomach as he struggled to draw a breath into his battered lungs.
The truth was, Jeremy had intended to stop there, but the sight of the rival—the one always superiorly compared to him—falling weakly at his feet made his eyes sparkled.
He wanted more.
James ignored the bully, stretching out a hand to reach for his scattered books, only for a heavy foot to kick them farther out of his reach.
Other students' attention had been instantly caught. They had their eyes fixated on the free 'movie' playing before them.
They roared into laughter when they saw the superior James being played like a pathetic pawn—how he looked defeated on the floor, scrambling desperately to gather his books.
The boys' laughter was the loudest, most vicious sound. They had dreamt of this moment for ages... James was always the one who got the teachers' and ladies' attention, always commended for his brilliance and unsettling beauty, thus, birthing the gnawing envy and hatred the boys felt.
Bullying wasn't a natural occurrence at Middleton. Though the boys had dreamt of it, they could never pull it off—for fear of teachers and the rest of the school personnel who had grown into the likeness of James.
If anyone could do so and pull it off, it would be the likes of Jeremy, those from untouchable, noble backgrounds.
"Come on, James! We can't brawl while you crawl!" Jeremy raved, his feet sending James's books skidding farther across the stone floor.
The action produced more laughter, louder this time. The students were practically filming the spectacle on their internal minds.
The jealous boys were practically thinking of the wildest, most venomous tags.
'#prettygotsmacked.'
'#loserface.'
'#beautyandthebeast.'
'#jameslames.'
"Jeremy, stop it! I don't wanna fight you!" James shouted, eventually fed up, his voice cracking with humiliation and desperation.
"What? You're scared momma can't fix your face?!" Jeremy roared for everyone to hear, his craziest, most malicious smile plastered across his face.
"What did you say?"
-------------------------------------------------------
What are your thoughts about this?
If you were James, what would be your reaction from the beginning?
See ya in the comments section.