Chapter 3: The Bully’s Downfall

2.

The first time Madison saw me, she hated me. She brought her clique and came for me hard.

That first week: gum in my locker, mean notes taped to my desk, whispers that followed me everywhere. Madison led the pack, her friends trailing after her. She made it clear—this was her turf, and I was an outsider.

I never fought back. But a week before the County Honors Exam, I skipped school on purpose.

Instead of showing up, I ducked into a greasy diner on Main Street—cracked vinyl booth, sticky Formica table, waitress topping off my mug with burnt coffee. I knew my absence would make waves. I wanted it to. Sometimes the best revenge is doing nothing at all.

Central High was always in Jefferson High’s shadow, and my grades were their secret weapon. They weren’t about to let me miss the test.

Principal Young bragged about his "rising star." My scores were his shot at finally beating Jefferson. No way they’d let me disappear now.

When my homeroom teacher called, I put on my best timid voice: "Ms. Carter, can I switch to another class?"

I made my voice small, just shaky enough. Ms. Carter prided herself on being the savior. I let her think she’d found a kid in need.

"Transfer?" She caught the distress in my voice right away.

Her tone softened instantly, like she was about to rescue me from a burning building. I could practically hear her heartstrings twanging.

She tried to reassure me: "Is someone in your class bothering you? Don’t worry, I’ll stand up for you."

She meant well, but it was always the same: teachers fixing problems they should’ve seen coming. I clutched the phone, keeping up the act.

"N-no. I just don’t fit in," I stammered.

It sounded weak—perfect. I needed her to think I was just a scared kid, not someone plotting payback.

As soon as I hung up, I dropped the act.

The second the call ended, my shoulders relaxed. If Madison wanted a war, she’d get it—on my terms.

I’d never been a good person.

I always remembered a slight. I’d let people dig their own graves, then watch them fall in. Maybe that made me bad. I didn’t care.

I always paid people back.

Forgiveness wasn’t my thing. If you hurt me, I’d make sure you felt it. Madison just made the list.

Two days later, Ms. Carter called me in.

She called while I was folding laundry, dusk settling over the city. I knew what was coming. I grinned as I pulled on my jacket and headed out.

Every school has cameras. She spent hours combing through footage.

Ms. Carter didn’t trust words—she wanted evidence. I respected that. She pieced together two months of hallway shoves, notes, and pranks—Madison and her squad, caught in the act.

After she found out Madison had targeted me, she went straight to the principal.

It was about more than me now—it was about the school’s reputation. Central High couldn’t have a bullying scandal before the Honors Exam. Suddenly, I was the victim, and Madison was the villain.

The school made a show of it—meetings, calls, lectures. Madison was called in, parents notified, staff pretending they’d never seen bullying before. It was all theater, but it worked.

Madison had to apologize at assembly—eyes red, voice cracking.

The gym was packed. Madison’s hands shook as she clutched the mic, mascara running down her cheeks. She stammered out an apology that was faker than her smile. I watched from the back row, unmoved.

She ate lunch alone for the first time all year. Even the cheerleaders ignored her. She blamed me, shooting daggers every time we crossed paths.

"It’s all her fault. If she wasn’t so smart, the teachers wouldn’t protect her."

She said it to anyone who’d listen, twisting the story to make herself the victim. Nobody bought it. They just nodded and walked away.

"Snake. What a manipulative little snake."

That nickname stuck. I heard it whispered in the halls, scrawled in Sharpie on my locker. "Snake." I almost liked it—at least it meant people were finally paying attention.

"Jake, are you going to help me or not?"

I caught her outside Starbucks, clutching Jake’s arm, voice shaking with desperation. Jake, always the loyal sidekick, looked uncomfortable but didn’t pull away.

The Starbucks parking lot was busy, sun glaring off car hoods. Madison’s tears sparkled, but I knew they were mostly for show. She always performed best when she had an audience.

He tried to comfort her: "Hey, don’t freak out. Me and Sean got your back, okay?"

Jake’s voice was low, trying to keep things private. He glanced around, making sure nobody overheard. Friend or accomplice? Hard to tell.

"Really?" Madison looked up, nose red. "What do you want me to do?"

She sounded small, but her eyes were sharp. She wanted payback, no matter the cost.

"Find someone to take her virginity, then send the photos to the group chat. I want to see what right she has to act so high and mighty."

The words were poison. I felt my stomach knot. Madison wanted me destroyed, and she’d drag anyone down to do it.

Madison’s voice was pure venom.

I recognized that edge—sugar on the surface, acid underneath. She’d set a house on fire just to feel the warmth.

Jake was tall, athletic, pulling her in, laughing like it was nothing.

He ruffled her hair and laughed, but there was something colder underneath—a predator in a letterman jacket.

"She’s just some broke nobody. Is she worth your tears, Maddie? Wait till I break her. I’ll have her crawling, begging at your feet."

His words were soft but sharp as glass. I watched them walk away, arms linked, plotting my ruin. I promised myself I’d never let them see me sweat.