Humiliating newcomers wasn't just tradition. It was their twisted sport, and the cafeteria was their audience. They always watched. Even when they kept their heads down, they watched. But then Carter lowered his voice, the edge of hesitation creeping in.
"Actually, I heard something about her." "What now?" Beck grumbled. "I mean just a rumor," Carter said, glancing around. "But someone from her old school posted that she got expelled because she fought an entire sports team and they ended up in the hospital."
Trent laughed first. Loud dismissive. Milo followed, shaking his head. Beck scoffed so hard it echoed. "You actually believe that crap?" he said, rolling his eyes.
"Look at her. She's tiny. Quiet. The kind of girl who apologizes before she breathes." Carter shrugged.
"Just repeating what I heard." "Yeah, well." Beck snapped. "What you heard is garbage. Rumors make losers interesting.
That girl? He jerked his thumb towards Zariah. She's nothing. But Zariah wasn't nothing, and the rumor wasn't garbage. He just didn't know that yet.
From across the cafeteria, Zariah lifted her eyes for a moment. Just one brief second. She wasn't close enough to hear them. But something in the way they were watching her told her everything she needed to know. Her gaze passed over the group, measured, unreadable, almost surgical, and for a flicker of a moment, Beck felt something he would never admit.
A tiny shard of unease. She's looking over here, Milo muttered. "So what?" Beck snapped, masking the ripple running down his spine. "If anything, it'll make the show better."
Jace grinned. "Yeah, we need something big. Something that screams," welcome to Brookside. Beck's smirk sharpened. Then let's give them a performance.
He leaned forward, lowering his voice with theatrical confidence. At lunch, we hit her with something unforgettable. Egg, water, whatever we want. And when she breaks, everyone sees exactly who's in charge. Arpac exchanged excited glances high on the promise of spectacle, oblivious to how catastrophically they were misreading their target.
Because Zariah wasn't invisible, she was suppressed potential, the kind that erupts. With his ego fully inflated, Beck grabbed a second egg from the carton and tossed it in the air, catching it like a trophy. He didn't know that this bigger humiliation he was planning would be the exact spark that lit the fuse under his own downfall. The cafeteria felt louder than usual. Chairs scraping, trays clattering, conversations stacking over each other in a chaotic hum.
But all of it vanished the moment Beck Rowan lifted the second egg. It wasn't the slow motion hush from movies. It was sharper. Like every breath in the room paused at once. Zariah Cole sat exactly where she had been.
Yolk dripping from her hairline to her chin. She still hadn't wiped her face. She still hadn't reacted. And that silence, her silence had begun to mutate into something dangerous. Beck stepped closer, the egg cold and wet in his palm.
His expression twisted with the thrill of dominance. But behind the mask, a small hint of frustration flickered. The first egg hadn't broken her. The crowd hadn't gotten the dramatic collapse he wanted. So now he'd amplify it.