Gwen turns to me, her blue eyes searching my face. "Are you okay, Ethan?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, shrugging. "I could've handled him, but thanks for stepping in."
"No problem," she says, smiling slightly. "Just didn't want things to get too heated."
Peter, who's been standing silently by my side this whole time, finally speaks up. "Dude, that was… intense," he says, his eyes wide with surprise. "I've never seen you stand up to Flash like that before. What happened?"
I look at Peter and sigh. "I don't know, man," I say, running a hand through my hair. "I guess I just got tired of letting him walk all over me. It's as simple as that."
"I respect that," Peter says, nodding slowly. "But seriously, man, be careful. Flash isn't gonna let this slide. He's definitely gonna come after you."
I smirk, a predatory glint in my eyes. "If he ever gets that chance."
As I glance around, I catch a few people snickering, and I just know it's directed at me.
Gwen notices, too. "Don't mind them, Ethan," she says, a gentle hand resting on my arm. "They're still stuck on that whole Flash thing. People are stupid."
"Eh, I don't care," I tell her, waving my hand dismissively. "They can think whatever they want. I'll make sure they'll have something else to talk about by the end of today."
Peter raises an eyebrow, a question in his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.
I just grin, a mischievous spark igniting within me. "You'll see," I say cryptically. "Just you wait."
The bell rings, slicing through the tension like a hot knife through butter. Gwen and Peter start walking toward class, and I follow, a plan forming in my mind.
During Mr. Warren's chemistry class, the perfect opportunity strikes. Flash is snickering, looking smug. Time to put the plan into motion.
"Mr. Warren, can I use the restroom?" I ask, raising my hand.
He barely glances up from his periodic table. "Yeah, yeah, just don't take too long."
I practically bolt for the door, eager to get this show on the road.
I slip out of the classroom and into the hallway, grinning. "Hey, Janitor Bob," I say, flashing him a quick wave. "Afternoon, Ms. Davison," I call out to a teacher patrolling the hall. Gotta establish that alibi, right? Nobody suspects a thing when you're just a normal kid needing a bathroom break.
I push open the heavy door to the boys' room, the stench of cheap cleaner hitting me like a wall. Gotta love public schools. I check under each stall, one by one. Click. Click. Click. Nothing. No feet, no sounds, no Flash. Empty. Perfect. Time for phase two.
"Showtime,"
The color of my jacket does a quick change from blue to Orange and black with white stripes. Loud colors, but nobody can see me anyway.
[Digi-Camo: Lightweight body armor as well as bending the light around the user, rendering them invisible. Invisibility Duration: 5 minutes before recharging.]
It's one of the perks I got after bagging that Monodramon the other day. Digi-Camo isn't just about looking fly; it's legit lightweight body armor too. And of course, the best part? Poof, I'm invisible. Plus, it can change colors. Always useful for blending in or standing out, depending on the situation.
Now, time to find Flash.
I head back to the classroom, practically skipping. Mr. Warren is droning about stoichiometry, and Flash is there, smirking. Perfect. I sidle up next to him, close enough, and Connect Jump!
Suddenly, I'm swimming in Flash Thompson's phone. It's a cesspool of selfies, sports scores, and… jackpot! A hidden folder labeled "Fun Times." It's a highlight reel of Flash's greatest bullying hits, pictures and messages. This is better than I hoped.
I whip up an anonymous burner account and send a message to Flash: I have your "Fun Times" folder. Leak one photo, and kiss your football scholarship goodbye. Your team would be interested in your greatest hits.
His phone buzzes, and I watch his face contort from smugness to confusion to outright rage. He glances around the room, paranoia swirling in his eyes. He types furiously: Who is this? How did you get these?!
I reply: Doesn't matter. Meet me in the janitor's closet near the gym in five minutes. Come alone.
Time to have a little chat.
I watch Flash head toward the janitor's closet. This is going to be good.
The door creaks open, and Flash steps inside, eyes darting around, trying to pierce the gloom. "Alright, who's there?" he booms, his voice echoing in the small space. "Come out and face me! I swear, whoever is messing with me is gonna pay!"
Oh, he's gonna pay, alright.
I take a step forward, still invisible, and deliver a swift kick to the back of his knees. He crumples like a cheap suit, hitting the ground with a surprised "oof!"
He scrambles to his feet, but I'm already on him, a swift punch to the gut sending him stumbling backward into a stack of mop buckets. I'm not exactly Captain America yet, but these stat points are making a difference. Flash feels like a kid I'm toying with.
"Who's there?!" he bellows, still trying to find me, his eyes wild and unfocused. "Show yourself, coward!"
Oh, he wants to play tough? Let's see how tough he is with a broken leg.
I stomp down on his left shin. A sickening snap fills the closet, followed by a bloodcurdling scream. "AAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Flash writhes on the floor, clutching his leg, tears streaming down his face. Serves him right. That football scholarship he's so proud of? Gone.
"Who the hell are you?! What do you want?!" he gasps, his voice choked with pain.
Silence. I crouch down, close enough to feel his ragged breath on my face, and wrap my hands around his throat. He struggles, but my grip is too tight. His face turns purple, his eyes bulge, and soon, his struggles fade. He goes limp.
I release him, and he slumps to the floor, unconscious.
Suddenly, Gatomon and BlackGatomon materialize next to me.
"Ethan, that was a bit much, don't you think?" Gatomon says, her blue eyes filled with concern.
BlackGatomon just smirks. "Please, he had it coming. Should've done worse."
I shrug, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and unease. "He messed with the wrong guy."
I rummage through the janitor's supplies, finding a can of black spray paint. Time for some artistic expression. I yank his clothes off, leaving him in his tighty-whities. His face is the perfect canvas for the words "LOSER," and a few other choice phrases. A couple of strategically placed drawings complete the masterpiece.
Next, I grab his phone. I start snapping pictures of him in all his defiled glory, experimenting with different angles and poses. Then, I log into his social media accounts and upload everything—the compromising pictures from his "Fun Times" folder, the humiliating photos I just took, and a compilation of his bullying videos. I make sure everyone in school, his team, and his family get a front-row seat to his downfall.
I leave Flash sprawled on the floor and double back to the bathroom. I disengaged the Digi-Camo. The orange and black stripes vanish, replaced by the familiar blue of my jacket. I splash some water on my face, check my reflection, and smooth down my hair. Gotta look presentable.
Back in the hallway, I spot Janitor Bob pushing his cart. "Hey, Bob," I say, tossing him a granola bar from my backpack. "Thanks for keeping the school so clean." He smiles, pockets the snack.
I stroll back into class, just as Mr. Warren wraps up his lecture. "Sorry I took so long," I say, sliding into my seat.
"Just try to be quicker next time," he replies, barely glancing up.
Peter shoots me a questioning look, but I just shrug and smile.
I figured someone would find Flash around lunchtime, but this is better.
Everyone in class suddenly pulls out their phones. A chorus of "Oh my god!" fills the room. I can't help but smirk. Guess my art project went viral. I nailed it.
***
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