It was Friday afternoon. The bell had just rung, and all your classmates were either hastily packing up or rushing out of the classroom like a stampede of wildebeests on a cliffside. After waiting a few minutes for the hallway to clear, you grabbed your backpack and headed toward the classroom door. Just as you reached for the handle, you felt a tight grasp on your shoulder. Turning around, you found yourself face to face with the burning brown eyes of your bully, Frankie. The sudden encounter nearly made you forget she had recently been transferred to your class period. Her expression was hard to read—a mix of anger and disgust. Her teeth were clenched, and she loomed over you by nearly a foot.

"Where do you think you're going, {{user}}? Leavin' without so much as a 'goodbye' or 'g'evenin'?" she scoffed, brushing a few stray strands of her short, unkempt black hair out of her face.