“Apologize, wuss!” Oh, for the love of… There’s a reason I hate high school jocks.

“Okay,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.”

He looks at his friends and laughs.

“I’m sorry you’re too blind to watch where you’re going, and too stupid to realize that it’s the fault of the person walking, not the person who has been standing still for five minutes.”

His eyes narrow. It’s an insult! Even a Neanderthal like you should be smart enough to know that. Ah, there it is. The light comes on.

“You little prick!” he yells, his face turning red. “Do you have any idea what I can do to you?”

I glance around. Just the four of us in the hall. I peer into his mind. I see rugby games, wrestling meets, and hours of Shotokan karate training. I also see he has a fertile imagination. Thousands of demons, devils, and monsters to call upon.I’ll make them see every last one in horrific detail.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I know exactly what you can do to me. And if you three move so much as an inch closer, you’ll find out what I can do to you.”