“We should go,” Kenzie says, grabbing my elbow. “Something about this isn’t right. Let’s?—”
Before she can say another word, Paiton and Ed split apart, curving around away from their table. I freeze as Ian holds my gaze. Ed walks amongst the tables, drumming his fingers on the tabletops as he passes them.
I prepare to run. Now that Craig is gone, Ed and Ian are two of the strongest students in the academy, and they seem to have some weird obsession with me. Just when I’m sure Ed is headed my way, and I’m about to pull Kenzie to her feet and leg it out of there, Ed abruptly stops and turns to the side. He stares down another guy who’s in all my classes. Jericho, I think his name is. He’s a slender guy with his black hair buzzed close to his head, and he has a gaunt face with dark circles around his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. Like me, the man is one of the weakest of our cohort, and my stomach drops as Jericho’s eyes widen with fear.
Leaning forward, Ed says something to him, and a cruel smile slashes across Ed’s face. Whatever he has said, Jericho tries to reel back, but Ed grabs the front of the man’s shirt and lifts him from his chair. Paiton watches from close by, laughing like she’s delighted.
“Oh shit,” Kenzie breathes in a rush.
Jericho struggles against Ed’s hold, but Paiton darts forward and presses a blade against Jericho’s abdomen until he stops resisting.
“Come on, now,” Ed croons in a sly voice. “We only want to chat. Keep acting like that and you might hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings, Jericho?”
Breathing hard, Jericho shakes his head furiously.
“Good,” Ed replies, approvingly. “Come join us for a meal, won’t you?”
Ed plops Jericho down into Ian’s empty chair, and my stomach twists as Jericho stares fearfully at the giant bowl.
“Ian, don’t do this—” Satine starts, suddenly looking uneasy, but one look from the man and she closes her mouth, not finishing what she was going to say.
“Relax,” Ian reassures her. “Jericho and I are just having some fun. Isn’t that right, Jericho?” He claps his hand on Jericho’s shoulder, and Jericho flinches at the contact.
The weaker student stares back at the table he was previously sitting at, but none of his companions are coming to his aide. They hang their heads, purposely avoiding eye contact with him, and Ian’s sinister smile grows.
“See, I told you we should leave,” Kenzie hisses to me, her doe eyes full of fear as we watch the scene unfold.
“Now, before we eat, I think we should clear something up,” Ian says casually. “You see, a little whisper told me about something you said earlier. And I must admit, it really hurt my feelings.”
“N-no,” Jericho stammers, frantically shaking his head again.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Ian continues. “Why don’t you repeat it for us? To my face, this time.”
When Jericho simply stares at him fearfully, Ian’s top lip curls with disgust. He grabs Jericho by the back of the neck, and thrusts his head toward the bowl, stopping just before Jericho’s head is forced into the meal. Curls of steam rise around Jericho’s horrified face.
“I told you to fucking say it again!” Ian snarls, spit flying from his mouth as he holds Jericho’s face close to the hot liquid.
“I–I didn’t mean it! I swear!” Jericho finally splutters, his arms braced on the table. “Please. I swear!”
Anger consumes Ian’s expression, and his eye twitches. He shares a look with Ed and Paiton who both smile back at him like they’re equally as insane. “Fine. If you’re too piss weak to share with the class, then I will,” Ian says. “You called me a little bitch, didn’t you?”
“N–no, I never said that!” Jericho blurts desperately.
“Is that so?” Ian drawls, leaning in close as he holds Jericho’s head firmly. “Because I could have sworn you also said you intended to take me out when the games begin.”
“What? No, I would never!” Jericho splutters, his cheeks red. He pushes against the table, trying to move away from the steamy contents of the bowl.
Until this point, I figure Ian is all talk and he simply wants to toy with Jericho. But then he pushes the man’s face into the bowl.
Jericho thrashes, fighting to lift his head back out, but Ian holds him there, cackling like some kind of lunatic while Paiton, Izzy, and Ed laugh along with him.
Jericho’s friends don’t move, and neither do any of the stronger students sitting at the nearby tables. Everyone simply averts their gazes. After a few seconds, Ian wrenches Jericho’s head out of the bowl, and Jericho gasps loudly, his face red and liquid dripping down his cheeks.
“Please,” Jericho begs, his chest heaving.
“You’re so pathetic,” Ian answers with a pitying smile. “I’d really be doing everyone a favor if I got rid of you.” Jericho lets out a fearful cry, but it ends when Ian slams his face back into the bowl.
I don’t realize what I’m doing, until I’m on my feet. “Stop,” I say, gripping my fork tightly.
