Tyler was leaning against the lockers, an e-cigarette in hand—blatantly ignoring the ban—while his girlfriend, Chloé, checked her makeup in the reflection of her brand-new phone.
Tyler: "Fuck, Chloé, how long is this gonna take? Let's get out of here—I can't stand the stench of poverty hanging in these halls."
Chloé: "Wait, Tyler. I have to be perfect for tonight's party. By the way, you did transfer the money to my account for the dress, right?"
Tyler: "It's done, it's done… Stop busting my balls about it. I pay, you smile—that's the deal."
At that moment, Kaelen walked down the hallway, his worn gym bag slung over his shoulder and his hands still faintly stained with grease from his morning shift at the garage. He walked with a steady stride, completely ignoring the couple. Tyler, in a foul mood after getting a 4/20 in economics, stuck out a leg to trip him. Kaelen sidestepped it effortlessly without even looking at him.
Tyler: "Oh, the scholarship kid! Don't you say hello to the boss? It's thanks to my dad's taxes that you've got new textbooks, right?"
Kaelen: (stopping dead without turning around) "Your taxes might pay for my books, Tyler, but they clearly couldn't buy you a brain. Flunked the exam again, I'm guessing?"
Tyler: "Say that again. I dare you."
Tyler stepped closer, blowing a thick cloud of menthol vapor into Kaelen's face.
Kaelen: (finally turning, his dark, contemptuous gaze locking onto Tyler's) "I don't repeat myself for guys who need subtitles. Get out of my way—I've got a real job waiting. Not everyone's a leech living off their last name."
Tyler: "Who do you think you are, the mechanic? You stink of motor oil and despair. You really think your brains are gonna get you out of the gutter? Around here, I decide who gets to breathe."
Kaelen: (with an icy smile) "Then I'm going to stop breathing your polluted air. It'd make me as stupid as you."
Chloé: "Tyler, leave him… He's not even worth it. Look at his shoes—it's pathetic."
Tyler: "You're right. I just don't like being talked back to. Hey, Kaelen!"
Tyler suddenly hurled his e-cig liquid bottle at Kaelen's gray hoodie. A greasy stain spread instantly across the worn cotton.
Kaelen: (clenching his fists, jaw tight) "You've really got a problem, you underdeveloped rich kid. You know how many hours I have to work to afford this?"
Tyler: "I don't give a shit. Ask charity—that's your field, right? Or come see me after class in the parking lot… if you've got the balls to do something other than count your pennies."
Kaelen: "The parking lot? So you can call your bodyguards the second I touch you? No thanks. If we fight, Tyler, it'll be when you're alone. And believe me, you're going to hate not being able to pull out your checkbook to fix your face."
Tyler: "Fuck you, Kaelen. You, your poor-boy pride, and your good grades. You're nothing."
Kaelen: "We'll see who's 'nothing' when your dad cuts you off because you're too stupid to move up a grade. In the meantime, wash yourself, Tyler. Your superiority's starting to smell rancid."
Kaelen walked away without a backward glance, leaving Tyler seething, crushing his e-cigarette against the metal locker.
Tyler: "That guy… I'm going to destroy him. I'll make him regret ever setting foot in this school."