Jaeson stopped. He thought he might be hearing things, but she said please. And she sounded sincere.
She continued. "I have the cash. I could just go online and get some stranger to do it. But I want it done by someone who...cares about her. I know you hate me, and I get it. But you see her the way I do. That's what I want for her."
"I don't hate you," Jaeson huffed. He couldn't believe he was actually considering her proposal. This was the same Leena that ensured everyone knew every sullied rumor about him, regardless of the truth. But perhaps this was the opportunity he was looking for, the chance to be something other than a pathetic whipping boy. If he put his heart and soul into it, and Leena backed him, he might come out ahead for once. It wasn't as though he had anything to lose. "It'll be tasteful?" he asked.
"Absolutely! Just her in something a little revealing, like a swimsuit or some lingerie, in a sexy pose. Less fap and more tact. I'll even pay you."
He thought about it, then sat down and said, "Counter-offer."
"I'm listening," she said excitedly.
"Keep your money. Instead, will you get the football team off my back? You're the team manager; they would listen to you."
"Oof," she groaned. "That's a really big ask, Jaeson. Are you sure you don't want something else? Something easier, like, I don't know, a new car?"
"Those are my terms," he said adamantly.
"Ugh! Fine!" she whined. "But it better be your best work."
"Deal," he said.
"Yesssss," she said, pumping her fist. "Can we start now? I have, like, a bajillion ideas!"
And so, the two began collaborating on Fiona's pinup. Leena brought up some pictures on her phone of the two of them at the beach for reference. At the same time, Jaeson started to create a rough preliminary sketch of what would eventually be the final product. Leena had plenty of input, from the outfit Fiona would wear and her hairstyle to more esoteric details like lighting, shading, and color palette. Despite his misgivings about Leena, he was actually having a good time. His pain still lingered and made his hands shake during vicious spikes, but he was thankful to finally have an adequate distraction.
And he could hardly ask for a better subject. Fiona was a beauty by anyone's standards. She had straight black hair, bronze skin from her Middle-Eastern heritage, enchanting gray eyes, and a delightfully athletic build. Her long, contoured, and well-built legs were perhaps her most well-known feature, but Jaeson was spoilt for choice on what to make the focus of the piece.
By the end of lunch, the two had ironed out all the details Jaeson would need to finish on his own. They settled on a simple full-body shot, with her hand on one hip and holding a soccer ball against the other. She would wear cleats, knee-high socks, bikini briefs, and a matching sports bra, all in the school's colors, purple and black. Leena wanted her to look coy and flirty, and they spent most of their time together getting the expression just right.
"This is gonna be so awesome," marveled Leena. "Send me a copy of this, will you? I'm gonna document the process. You have my email, right?"
"If it's in the registry, yeah."
"Are you gonna be able to make the deadline? I need it in two weeks."
Two weeks was plenty generous, but Jaeson didn't want her to know that. "It'll be tight, but I'll do my best."
"Sweet. I'll see you later, nerd. And don't show that to anyone! It's a surprise."
"Who would I even show it to?" he muttered.
She stuck out her tongue in disgust. "Don't be so lame, Snowflake. No girl likes that." Then she got up and bounced away.
Jaeson feigned illness to get out of gym class so that he could start working on Fiona's piece. He spent all period on the top row of the bleachers, flanking the basketball court, scribbling on his tablet in a flurry of creativity. In truth, this wasn't the first time Fiona was the subject of his art, but those were hidden away on sketch pads deep in his closet. Even though Fiona's sketches were far more tame than the ones he'd made of Ms. Marison, he didn't dare upload them, fearing they would get into the wrong hands somehow.
And for the following few periods, the bullying seemed to calm down. However, as Jaeson hurried through the halls to his locker, he noticed that the other students gave him a wide berth. He was initially relieved, but the hushed whispers and obvious staring unsettled him just as much. It was as if they were watching a criminal being led to the noose. Doing his best to ignore them, he arrived at his locker, expecting to see a new sticky note waiting for him, but there was none.
Then he noticed that the hall had gone quiet despite being full of students. The pain in his abdomen spiked suddenly and shot up his spine to his brain, making him feel lightheaded and foggy. But even as the sudden stupor took hold, the hairs on his neck raised in alarm as he felt the presence of something big and violent approaching from behind. A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, and there was Fiona with white-hot fury in her beautiful gray eyes.
"What the hell is this?" she growled through angry tears. She held her phone up to show him the rough sketch he and Leena had made of her during lunch.
Jaeson's eyes darted between the image on screen and the heart-wrenching sight of Fiona's ire. He understood what had happened immediately. Leena must have shared it, if not with Fiona, then with someone else who spread it around the school. He sputtered, "I-I didn't...it was just..."
"Just what? Another one of your fucked up fantasies? Huh?" she shouted as she pushed him against the locker.
Jaeson panicked and let slip his only defense. "W-wait! Please! It was supposed to be a birthday present!"
"Well, happy fucking birthday to you, pervert," She spat. "I'm not some thot! Okay? I'm not a model, I'm not your muse, and I'm not your friend! So get over your stupid crush and leave me alone!"
His devastated heart hung by a thread. But it was about to get worse. Behind Fiona, from the crowd of students that had gathered to watch the scene, approached several large men dressed in their purple and black varsity letter jackets. They were led by her boyfriend, Tony, who looked delighted with the scene unfolding before him.
He placed his hand gently on Fiona's shoulder, making her jump. "Whoa, Fiona, babe, chill out."
"Tony, I can handle this," she stated firmly.
"Oh, I can see that. Ol' Georgie boy is spooked. I mean, just look at him." Tony placed his hand on Jaeson's cheek, then pushed his face away. "But I'm sure this is all some big misunderstanding. Isn't it Jaeson?"
"Y-Yes. I can explain."
"See, babe?" Tony took Fiona's hands and carefully guided her away from Jaeson. "Here, why don't you go back to my locker and wait for me? Take a few deep breaths and clear your head. I'm gonna have a chat with the G-man, and we'll work it out. Don't worry about it."
Meanwhile, the rest of his comrades formed a blockade around them in a semi-circle, preventing anyone else from getting close. Fiona noticed it, too, and realized what was about to happen. "Tony, don't," she pleaded.
Tony said nothing but simply raised his arm and pointed down the hall. Defeated, Fiona exchanged a sorrowful glance at Jaeson before squeezing past the footballers and disappearing into the crowd. Tony glared menacingly at Jaeson while Thomas spoke to the crowd, "Time to get to class. Nothing to see here."
A low murmur passed through the gaggle of onlookers, and then they slowly began to disperse, leaving Jaeson alone with Tony and several other seniors. There was Thomas Ritcher and John Bengal, the left and right defensive tackles, as well as a few other members of the Dragons' defensive unit. They all wore their jackets and a brown leather bracer on their left wrist with the team's logo burned into it. It was a mark of honor senior members of the storied team wore with pride.
Once they were gone, Tony rolled his eyes and shrugged, "Fuckin' bitches. Am I right?" Then, without another word, Tony reared back and threw a right hook at Jaeson's eye. But Jaeson got his hands up just in time to deflect the blow. Even still, Tony was one of the top athletes at a school full of top athletes and hit like a freight train. The impact knocked Jaeson off balance, and his back banged against the locker-lined wall with a loud metal rattle. Tony didn't let up. He launched a barrage of attacks, each battering Jaeson's weakened defenses like a hurricane. With his pain flaring up and his head foggy, all his father's training was useless against such an assault. One of Tony's blows finally connected square across Jaeson's cheek, and he slumped to the floor, his ears ringing and his vision blurry. Tony seized the opportunity and kicked Jaeson hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Jaeson was left defenseless as he struggled to breathe and not vomit at the same time.
"You know, Snowflake," Tony said casually, "I don't usually care about fat losers ogling my girl. Hell, I figure it's probably the most action they'll ever get." He bent down and grabbed Jaeson by the white in his hair, yanking his head back. "What I don't like is when some basement dwelling incel draws lewds of her to share with the rest of the fucking weebs."
"Attic dweller," winced Jaeson.
"What's that?" Tony asked.
"I dwell...in the attic...not the basement," Jaeson managed between wheezy breaths.
"Hah!" Tony laughed. "My mistake."
Meanwhile, John had dug through Jaeson's bag and found the tablet. "Look what I got," he said with gleeful menace and handed it to Tony.
"Ooh, what do we have here? Birthday present? Nice..."
Jaeson knew what was coming and struggled to speak. "Tony, please. It was Leena's idea. She asked me to do it."
Tony grinned. "I know. Who do you think suggested it to her in the first place?" Then, he threw the device on the ground and stomped, shattering the screen and cracking the case open. "Oops," he said flippantly. Jaeson squeezed his eyes shut as if forced to watch an execution.
"'Kay guys, it's time to give Jaeson his birthday gifts. That's eighteen years, eighteen licks, three for each of us. John, you're up first."
What followed was the worst beating Jaeson had ever taken. The five of them took turns kicking him, pulling him to his feet, hitting him a few more times, throwing him on the ground, and kicking him some more. He'd lost track, but it was far more than eighteen licks. His pain intensified with every strike, their laughter punctuating every sickening thud against his skull. He didn't bother fighting back and hoped that the next attack would be the one to put him out of his misery.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the doors on the lockers rattled around them. Jaeson could hear a young woman's voice screaming at them but couldn't make out what she was saying through his delirium. She knelt beside him, and Jaeson could barely distinguish the blurry features of his dream girl's lovely eyes and face. Only this time, she looked to be his age and was neither passive nor calm. She was frantically manipulating her tablet device: an old model with a Sailor Moon sticker.
"Jaeson, it's okay. You're gonna be okay, don't worry," she assured him, though it was clearly for her benefit as much as it was his.
Jaeson was losing consciousness. But before his vision went completely dark, he murmured, "It should have been me."