I stepped forward. Chloe opened her mouth to scream, but she never got the chance. I moved faster than her brain could process the threat. I bypassed her completely, lunging straight for Zoe, who was holding the phone.
I grabbed Zoe by the lapels of her pristine uniform jacket. Using her own backward momentum, I twisted my hips and threw her over the nearest lab desk. She shrieked as she hit the black epoxy surface, sliding across it and crashing onto the floor on the other side in a tangle of limbs and knocking over a tray of empty glass beakers. They shattered against the tile like a gunshot.
Chloe spun around, panic finally registering on her face. She raised her hands defensively, but she had no idea how to fight. She only knew how to inflict pain when she held all the power.
I drove a hard, flat push-kick squarely into her chest.
It wasn’t meant to injure. It was meant to displace. Chloe flew backward, her arms flailing, and crashed hard onto her back right into the thickest part of the green slime puddle. The paint splashed up, coating her blonde hair and her designer uniform.
The lab fell dead silent, save for the sound of Zoe groaning behind the desk and the heavy, ragged sound of my own breathing.
I walked slowly over to Chloe. She scrambled backward, her hands slipping in the slime, her face pale with absolute terror. She looked up at me as if she was seeing a monster.
“I am stronger and better than you,” I said, my voice dead and hollow in the quiet room.
I reached down and picked up my backpack. It weighed ten pounds more than it should have. The green paint dripped steadily from the canvas, forming a new puddle by my shoes. I clutched it to my chest, the reality of what just happened finally crashing down on me. My laptop was gone. My presentation was gone. I had just assaulted two students. I was going to be expelled. My mother was going to be devastated.
I turned toward the door, my vision blurring.
Standing in the doorway, perfectly still, was Principal Vance.
He was a tall, imposing man who usually wore an expression of polite concern. But right now, his face was completely unreadable. He looked at the shattered glass. He looked at Chloe covered in paint on the floor. He looked at my raised, trembling fists.
And he didn’t look surprised at all.
“Maya,” Principal Vance said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “My office. Now. You’re done.”
CHAPTER 2
The walk to the principal’s office felt like a funeral march.
I dripped a trail of green slime down the pristine hallway corridors. Students were beginning to arrive, filtering out of the cafeteria and lingering by their lockers. The chatter died instantly as I passed. People stared, pointing and whispering, their eyes wide as they took in my ruined uniform and the fierce, unblinking stare I kept fixed on the back of Principal Vance’s head.
I clutched my heavy, soaked backpack against my chest. The paint was beginning to dry, stiffening the fabric of my shirt into a cold, abrasive shell. My knuckles still ached from where I had grabbed Zoe’s jacket.
When we reached the administrative suite, Vance didn’t speak to the secretary. He bypassed her desk completely, unlocking his heavy oak door and holding it open for me.
“Sit,” he ordered, pointing to one of the leather chairs opposite his desk.
I sat. The slime squelched against the expensive leather. I placed my backpack on the floor beside me.
Vance walked behind his desk, but he didn’t sit down. He stood there, adjusting his cuffs, looking at me with an expression of profound disappointment.
“I received a phone call from the night security staff earlier this morning,” Vance began, his voice smooth and practiced. “They reported some strange activity in the science wing. I went to investigate. Imagine my shock when I found one of my brightest scholarship students brutally assaulting two of her classmates.”
“They set a trap,” I said, my voice hoarse. “They rigged a bucket of industrial paint over the door. They waited for me. They filmed it.”