“The asphalt of the Northwood High parking lot radiated a suffocating heat, but it was nothing compared to the burning shame crawling up Elara’s neck.

”“Did you honestly think,”“ Kenzie’s voice was sharp, polished, and loud enough to carry over the idle chatter of seniors leaving for the day, ”“that anyone would want to look at this garbage? Or look at you?”“

Elara Vance clutched the portfolio to her chest. It wasn’t just a binder. It was her soul. It was three years of charcoal sketches, watercolor portraits, and the scholarship application that was her only ticket out of this town. Her only ticket away from a step-father who looked through her like she was a stain on the carpet, and a mother who was too tired to argue with him.

Ezoic
”“Give it back, Kenzie,”“ Elara whispered, her voice cracking. ”“Please.”“

”“Speak up, heavy duty. I can’t hear you over the sound of your thighs rubbing together,”“ Kenzie sneered.

The crowd gathered. It always happened like this. It was biological, almost. The predators sensed blood, and the scavengers came to watch the feast. Phones were raised. The red recording dots were like little sniper scopes, all trained on Elara’s humiliation.

Kenzie snatched the portfolio. Elara lunged for it, a desperate, clumsy motion.

She missed.

Kenzie sidestepped with the grace of a dancer, and Elara’s momentum carried her forward. She tripped over her own frayed shoelaces and hit the ground hard. Her palms scraped against the gritty pavement, stinging sharply.

Laughter.

It wasn’t a roar; it was worse. It was a ripple of giggles and snorts, a casual symphony of cruelty.

Elara lay there for a second, staring at a piece of gum stuck to the asphalt. She wished the ground would just open up. She wished for an earthquake. She wished she could dissolve into the grey tar and disappear forever.