7 Revenge is Best Served with Tennis Balls

Gym the next day was...eventful. Well, more correctly, what happened after gym.

I had gotten on their nerves on purpose. McLean, vying for attention from the simpering females in my group, had started hitting us with tennis balls. The rest of the oafs had joined in, sniggering, until we were being pelted with them. Their faces were smug until I flicked my wrist; five balls hit them in the eyes simultaneously, earning a roar of laughter and applause from everyone in the hall, even the teachers. I knew them too well; and now, just as planned, they were stood in front of me now, cornering me into the gym storeroom.

I showed no emotion. I sized them up with a hint of amusement. Hunter, Boyd, McLean, McKinney, Wayne. I'm going to enjoy this.

"Whore. You'll pay for what you did" one of them sneered.

My amusement broke through. The corners of my mouth twitched.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, "it's just that I didn't realise how fragile your masculinity was. You'd better remind me next time, just in case..." I twitched an eyebrow.

Their faces twisted, enhancing their ugliness, and they advanced upon me.

It was too easy. I finished them off in a matter of seconds, leaving them groaning in a heap on the floor.

I looked up to see Hugh standing in the doorway, gaping in amazement. I grinned and bounced over to him, making sure to step on Hunter's arm on the way.

"Let's go," I grinned. "Leave them to stew for a while."

He looked down at me with a slighty shellshocked expression, with a hint of apprehensiveness.

"Umm.." he stammered, "You can..fight?"

I laughed. "There's a lot you don't know about me, duckling," before patting him on the shoulder and skipping out of the sports hall to get lunch, humming to myself along the way.

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