Avery tilts her head.
Not curious. Calculating.
Eyes like knives, weighing where to cut first.
Her voice drops—slow, thin, sliding between my ribs like a scalpel.
"You embarrassed me, little shit. Do you even know how?"
I swallow fast enough to drown myself.
Chest punching.
Hands itching to disappear into my sleeves, into my bones, into anything not here.
"I… I just… did the homework… for you."
Her lips twitch. Almost a smile. The kind surgeons make before they say, This might hurt.
"Every answer… every equation was perfect. Too perfect. And then… do you know what happened after I handed it in?"
She steps closer.
Mint on her breath.
Heat on mine.
Her footsteps scrape like metal dragged over cement.
"I had to stand in front of the class. Explain it all. Every single step. Every neat little solution you gift-wrapped for me."
A blink. A tiny laugh with no humour.
"And do you know what I realised?"
I shake my head. My throat a locked door.
"I couldn't answer any of the questions. Not a single sum. Not a single one."
Her voice cracks like snapping glass.
"I froze. They stared… and then they laughed. Like I'd cheated."
A breath through clenched teeth.
"All because you made it perfect."
Energy crackles as Casey bounces in, teeth flashing.
"Too perfect. And now she's stuck doing extra homework all night. More sums. More pages. More crap. Her whole night absolutely ruined… all because of you. Because of you, piss-rat."
Her knee slams into my side—hard, bone-jarring, ripping the air from my lungs. I fold, ribs cracking, nerves on fire.
"I… I can… I can—"
Cold metal cracks into my stomach. Edge-first. A steel ruler—no give, no warning.
The hit folds me. Air punches out in a choking grunt. Heat blooms under my skin like a welt opening.
Casey's laugh lands before the sting even finishes crawling across my ribs.
"Too late."
Avery's eyes go sharp enough to open me from collarbone to belly.
"You wrecked the day. The class. My dignity. Every perfect line you wrote was a landmine. And I stepped on all of them."
Lexxa slides in behind me—quiet, cold, her breath ghosting down my spine.
"Time for your night to detonate."
From the side, Casey laughs. Jagged. Wild.
"Feel it. Every inch. Every ugly little pulse."
Avery moves closer until her forehead nearly brushes mine.
Her voice soft—soft like a knife wrapped in velvet.
"A taste of what you did to me. Do you feel it yet? That heat crawling up your neck? That twist in your gut? The panic chewing its way up your throat?"
I don't move. Can't.
Pulse hammering. Knees useless.
Her lips twitch again—subtle, surgical. Enough to cut.
"You thought you were helping," she says. "Thought perfection was kindness."
A slow inhale. Deliberate.
A soft exhale, blade-smooth.
"It's not. It's a weapon. And now? You're the one unarmed. Standing in the fallout."
Casey snorts, spit in every syllable.
"Oh, we're just warming up. Watch him squirm. Watch him rot."
Avery doesn't blink. Doesn't soften.
Every second tightens around my throat.
"You embarrassed me," she says. "All of me. And I don't forget things like that. It's time for you to feel it."
A step from her. A breath. A verdict.
"Tonight?" Her voice lands like the drop of a blade. "You pay."
Like the green light changes, Lexxa moves. Hands on me. Wall.
Slam.
Spin.
The women's toilet door rattles, wobbles. I hang weightless.
She twists me midair, hurls me toward the sinks.
Metal bites bone.
Pain blooms.
Shoulder slams the wall. Head grazes the corner. Push. Pull. Slam.
The world tilts, sways, doubles—I can't keep up.
Every shove steals my strength. Every slam crushes it out of me.
She's wearing me down, grinding every ounce of resistance.
My muscles scream—useless, trembling.
She spins me, throws me into the sinks, pivots, shoves me toward the next wall.
I bounce, flail. Arms and legs useless.
I can't stop the motion. Can't grab. Can't resist.
A harsh laugh echoes—bouncing off metal and tile.
Then—bin.
Hard.
The metal groans as she slams me into it.
Lexxa glances at the bin, then at Avery. Waiting.
Avery nods. Smirks. "Head first."
One last jagged laugh rattles the room. Casey. Hungry.
Lexxa hooks me again.
I go rigid—dead weight, a corpse she hasn't declared.
Getting me into the bin should be easy. It isn't.
I'm a sandbag full of bad decisions.
I wheeze.
Chest jackhammering.
Arms dead wires.
Legs mutinying.
Upside-down and spinning like a cheap carnival ride, I can't fight.
Can't move.
Just orbit the panic.
"P… please… stop…"
The words crack in half.
Shredded.
Half-whimper, half-gravel.
"My… my… I can't…"
Body folding. Trembling.
Head spinning centrifuge-fast.
My own voice jams in my throat—too big, too broken, too wrong.
"Stop… please… I… I'm… done…"
Pleading, weak. Almost swallowed by the girls' laughter.
"Shut your fucking mouth," Casey spits. "We didn't give you permission to breathe, let alone speak, you pathetic little shit."
Straining, Lexxa shoves me toward the bin. Head first.
Muscles screaming.
She swears under her breath, grinding against my weight.
Avery and Casey lean in, hands under my shoulders, under my hips, dragging me down into the cold metal.
My face hits the rim.
The stench punches me: stale sweat, rotting scraps, gum in the corners, crumpled tissues, copper blood—something damp and cottony, gagging. Tampons. Maybe.
Metal and bile coat my tongue.
Every breath drags the stink deeper, burrowing through my skull.
Rubber walls close in.
Laughter—Avery, Casey, Lexxa—bounces from floor to ceiling.
I'm drowning. Metal. Stench. Laughter.
My body is gone.
Ragdoll. Limbs flail. Throat pounding. Mind screaming.
The world flips. Blood rushes to my skull.
Floor sways, doubles.
Upside-down. Dead weight.
Nothing to hold.
Nothing to fight with.
Fingers scrabble—slimy metal. No grip.
Shoulders jam. Breath stutters. Every small move just pushes my face deeper into the reek.
Arms hang—numb ropes.
Two hands clamp my ankles—Avery hooked, Casey playful, Lexxa stone—and that's all it takes to keep me dangling.
A push. A tilt.
I sway like trash in a storm.
I can't fight it.
Can't move.
Can't even breathe without swallowing the bin.
Upside down. Dizzy. Helpless.
Held like a toy they haven't finished breaking.
A whisper snakes against my ear—Avery's breath, warm, sharp, venom-thick.
"You wanted to help me… Look how that worked out, little shit."