The Wrath of Grace Mort

The young man had black hair and eyes that seemed almost yellow. What had he been consuming to result in such a peculiar eye color? His attire undoubtedly spoke of affluence. The tray in the hands of the brunette indicated that he had already finished his meal. Only remnants remained.

"I apologize for the intrusion. Enjoy your meal," he said with a soft French accent. Grace wiped her hands on a napkin and looked at the guy with curiosity. His expression suggested he was on the verge of saying, "What do you want!? Why did you barge in?" "I'm Francis from class 'A.' You probably don't know, but individuals like you aren't of interest."

"Get to the point." - Mort interrupted him.

"I came here to invite you to our group." - he nodded towards a cluster of students sitting at a large table. They waved their hands, as if saying, "Hi! We're here!" I knew this gang well. They held a high status in school, being the most popular. They were known as the Kings. And for them to invite someone personally was rare. - "We really want to get to know you better. All of you! Even though we already know half the information about you. Well, agree, it's not fitting for you to sit with someone like this."

The last sentence clearly referred to me. I lowered my gaze to my plate and slowly chewed the remaining food. A familiar bitterness rose in my throat. Humiliation, in front of a friend. Mort was looking at me. And what? Was he going to stand up and go to them now? Who would refuse such an offer? Just as I was about to open my mouth to say that everything was okay and I was used to it, the brunette spoke in a cheeky, icy tone.

"Listen here, Francis or whatever your name is. I think I can choose who I sit with. Do you want to make that decision for me? "- I looked up and saw that Grace was furious.

"Well, did I say something wrong? You misunderstood me." - the brunet stammered.

"I understood perfectly. I have a friend I can talk to." - the brunette withdrew to get a better view of the Kings. -" What is this? One looks like they're heading to a club, not school. The second looks like a junkie, and the third... I'll spare you the description. What exactly are you playing at? And you want me to join? "- Mort chuckled.

Francis mumbled, but quickly composed himself.

"It's up to you whether you want to join or not." - he calmly replied. A predatory glint appeared in his eyes. He leaned in to retrieve his sunglasses and turned, pretending to accidentally spill sweet water on me. The liquid ran down my white shirt, and I felt sick. Such humiliation in front of a friend. The brunette didn't seem to regret what he had done; he did it deliberately. Grace clenched her teeth, and I spoke.

"Is there no limit? "- the guy smirked. He turned to Mort and said,

"If you get bored, join us. We really want to get to know you better." - the brunet was about to leave, but suddenly Grace kicked him hard in the legs. A cry escaped Francis as he fell face-first into the plate of leftovers. The brunette got up quickly and headed towards the guy.

"Grace!" - I yelled and stood up abruptly. But he wasn't listening to me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." - he said sarcastically, pressing the guy's head into the plate. The brunette struggled, but Grace was stronger. What did he say?!

"Release him, it was clearly unintentional," I exclaimed. Mort snorted but loosened his grip. The brunette quickly got up and began wiping his face while muttering a string of curses.

"What was that for?" - he exclaimed angrily. -" I didn't do anything!"

Then the brunette pulled out a gun and pressed it to Francis' temple. He began to move away, but the guy moved closer.

"Listen here, if you touch my friend again, I'll arrange a visit for you from the Junior Mafia. Do you know who they are? Of course, you do. These days, they're so ruthless that beating someone up will be more than a pleasure. Why are your legs shaking? Scared?" - then Grace turned to the familiar gang. - "Did I make myself clear, or should I explain it to each of you personally?

They nodded and started hiding their faces. Other students stared at the mafia's son with fascination."

"Let's go, there's no point in staying here anymore." - the brunette growled at me. And before leaving the cafeteria, he approached a table and grabbed some chocolate bars. He walked briskly, and I could hardly keep up. I knew Mort was really angry right now, and it was better not to provoke him.

"I'm so angry." - he hissed, entering our classroom. Anger radiated from him, and it was almost palpable. Half of the students were missing from class. That was good.

And what happened here? Grace started turning everything upside down and breaking things. I stared in shock. I was speechless.

"Oh my God! "- the girls exclaimed when the guy kicked a chair hard and it flew. I noticed that the mafia's son was closely watching his brother. My classmates gathered together, huddled in a corner, looking at Mort as if he were a lunatic. He knocked over a desk, and it crashed loudly to the floor.

He tipped over a desk, which crashed onto the floor with a resounding thud. "Grace, calm down!" I shouted, but my voice was drowned out by the cacophony of shattering glass, splintering wood, and a broken cabinet.

Suddenly, Deymi's brother noticed Josephine's desk, which had many things, including gadgets. I realized he wanted to smash it.

"Oh no!" - the redhead was getting anxious and turned away, not wanting to witness the horrifying spectacle.

"Stop! "- I yelled. The brunette's hand was about to touch the desk, about to overturn it. But then his hands were intercepted. I breathed a sigh of relief - it was his sister. Her nails dug into the guy's skin, and her fingers tightly gripped his wrist.

"Let me go!" - Mort growled. I realized I didn't know this person at all. He had been so kind; where had that goodness gone?

"Calm down." - the girl said calmly and snapped her fingers in front of his face.