Chapter 1: The Day They Chose the Wrong Target
I swallowed my anger because I knew exactly what would happen if I gave Brandon what he wanted.
He would laugh.
Everyone around him would laugh.
And tomorrow, the video would be everywhere.
Hawthorne Academy loved two things: success stories and humiliation.
The first one went on the school website.
The second one went on everyone’s phones.
Brandon tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he had already solved.
“Seriously, Ethan?”” he said loudly.
“You’re just going to stare at the floor?””
A few people laughed.
I looked down at my ruined lunch.
The mashed potatoes had landed on the floor beside a piece of lettuce. My sandwich was crushed beneath someone’s shoe. The milk carton was leaking slowly, forming a white puddle across the expensive tiles the school bragged about cleaning every night.
Funny how everything at Hawthorne looked perfect.
Except the people.
“Pick it up,” Brandon said again.
This time, he said it quietly.
Only I could hear him.
That was worse.
Because it meant he wasn’t performing anymore.
He was enjoying it.
I crouched down.
The cafeteria went silent for half a second.
Not because anyone cared.
Because everyone wanted to see what I would do.
Would I fight?
Would I cry?
Would I finally break?
My fingers reached toward the tray.
Then a voice cut through the silence.
“Are you seriously making him clean that up?””
I froze.
Brandon looked over his shoulder.
A girl stood near the entrance of the cafeteria, holding a stack of books against her chest.
Emma Hayes.
Everyone knew Emma.
Not because she was rich.
Not because her parents had their names on buildings.
Because she was the one person at Hawthorne who acted like the rest of us were human.
Brandon smiled.
“Oh, look,” he said.
“The school’s favorite charity case has an opinion.””
Emma’s expression hardened.
“At least I don’t need an audience to feel important.””
A few people gasped.
Brandon’s smile disappeared.
Only for a second.
Then it came back.
“You should be careful, Emma.””
“Why?””
“Because defending him might make people think you actually care.””
Emma stepped closer.
“I do care.””
The cafeteria reacted like she had said something unbelievable.
Brandon laughed.
Not a normal laugh.
The kind someone uses when they think they have already won.
“Wow. That’s adorable.””
He looked at me.
“Ethan, did you hear that? Someone actually feels sorry for you.””
My hands tightened.
I hated that word.
Sorry.
People always felt sorry.
Nobody ever asked questions.
Nobody ever wondered why I wore the same jacket three years in a row.
Nobody wondered why I always rushed out after class instead of joining clubs or hanging out.
Nobody knew that after school, I worked at a small auto shop until midnight because my mother’s medical bills didn’t disappear just because people at Hawthorne wanted me to look presentable.
They saw a scholarship.
They didn’t see the price.
I stood up slowly.
Brandon’s eyes narrowed.
For the first time all day, he looked uncertain.
Not afraid.
Just confused.
Because I wasn’t reacting the way he expected.
“You’re right,” I said.
The cafeteria went quiet.
Brandon raised an eyebrow.
“About what?””
“I am different.””
A few students started whispering.
I looked around at all the phones pointed at me.
“All of you think this is funny because you think people like me are supposed to be embarrassed.””
My voice shook slightly.
But I kept going.
“You think having less money means having less value.””
Nobody laughed anymore.
Brandon stepped closer.
“Careful, Ethan.””
I looked directly at him.
“You don’t know anything about me.””
His jaw tightened.
“Neither do you know anything about me.””
That was when I almost laughed.
Because everyone knew Brandon Whitmore.
They knew his trophies.
His parties.
His expensive car.
His perfect family photos.
But nobody knew the real him.
Maybe because nobody wanted to look.
The warning bell rang.
Students started moving.
The moment was ending.
Brandon leaned close enough that only I could hear.
“You think today was embarrassing?””
His voice dropped.
“Today was me being nice.””
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?””
His smile returned.
“The video.””
My stomach dropped.
“What video?””
Brandon pulled out his phone.
He tapped the screen.
Then he turned it toward me.
There it was.
A video of me standing on the floor.
A video of everyone laughing.
A video edited with slow motion and ridiculous music.
At the top was a title.
*Hawthorne’s Biggest Loser.*
My face went cold.
“You’re insane.””
Brandon shrugged.
“Maybe.””
He walked away.
Then he stopped.
“Oh, and Ethan?””
I looked back.
“Your scholarship committee meets next week, right?””
My heart stopped.
Because he wasn’t supposed to know that.
Nobody was supposed to know.
Brandon smiled.
“Would be a shame if they saw this.””
He disappeared into the crowd.
I stood there, surrounded by noise, but somehow hearing nothing.
Emma walked beside me.
“Ethan.””
I didn’t answer.
“Ethan, look at me.””
I finally did.
Her face had changed.
She wasn’t angry anymore.
She was worried.
“How does Brandon know about your scholarship meeting?””
I opened my mouth.
No answer came.
Because there was only one way he could know.
Someone had told him.
Someone who knew my application.
Someone inside the school.
And as I stared at the cafeteria doors where Brandon had walked out, my phone suddenly buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
*You should have stayed invisible.*
And below it was a photo.
A photo of a document.
My scholarship application.
With my mother’s name.
May you like
And a red stamp across the top.
*UNDER REVIEW.*
