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"Damn," flashed through Mark's mind when he saw them—the three girls who always found a way to ruin his day. Inside, everything tightened as if an icy ball had rolled down his spine. His palms instantly grew clammy, the cigarette trembling in his fingers. His gaze automatically dropped to the ground, but it was too late to hide—Maddie, Lauren, and Scarlett's laughter already echoed across the yard, burning his ears.
— "Maybe we should leave before they start again?" — Jessica muttered quietly, turning her head toward Emma and nervously biting her lip. She knew how much Emma hated these encounters and could see her friend tense up immediately. But before Mark could respond, Maddie shouted loudly, waving in their direction:
— "Hey, look who's here! Our favorite 'Crazy Em!'" — Maddie's voice dripped with mockery, and Scarlett and Lauren instantly burst into giggles, latching onto the nickname.
"Why the hell are they here? Why now? Can't I just have a moment of peace?" Mark felt his fingers tighten around the cigarette. A wave of anger flared up inside him, but it was powerless rage. He couldn't force them to leave, couldn't drown out their taunts.
— "Hey, Crazy Em, don't pretend you can't hear us!" — Scarlett's voice rang out, closer this time.
Mark stole a glance upward, hoping he was wrong, but of course, he wasn’t. The girls were slowly approaching, their footsteps pounding in his head like a heavy drumbeat. Between every mocking remark, their laughter filled the quiet street, growing louder and closer, like a taunting melody.
Maddie, the ringleader, sauntered up to them with feline grace, her entourage huddling slightly behind her like a pack ready to pounce. Her gaze slid over Emma and landed on the cigarette in her hand. A contemptuous smirk tugged at her lips.
Mark gritted his teeth, feeling a storm of humiliation and anger boiling inside him, but he forced himself to hold it together. He raised his head and looked up at Maddie, trying to maintain a shred of dignity. A deep breath—and his face froze, becoming a mask of indifference. Showing weakness now would only give Maddie more ammunition. "No way! I had enough of this crap back when I was a boy in school." a thought flickered.
— "Heya!," Emma said, taking a drag and trying her hardest not to cough as she exhaled the smoke deliberately in Maddie’s direction. — "What brings someone as important as Miss Maddie to a place like this?" — she added with a smirk, flicking her hair back with exaggerated poise. — "Come to grace us mere mortals with your presence, or are you just here to ruin another day?"
Maddie narrowed her eyes and took a step closer, her posse staying slightly behind, exchanging encouraging glances.
— "Looks like you’ve lost your fear, Crazy Em," — she hissed, her voice dripping with sweet venom that made Emma instinctively tense. — "Don’t forget how things ended last time. Or do you need a reminder about how close you came to getting expelled for that fight?"
"God, she pisses me off!" — Mark’s fingers tightened around the cigarette. Every word she said, every tone in her voice, pressed an invisible button, amplifying the hum of irritation. The nickname "Crazy Em" sounded like a triumphant insult crafted specifically to break him. "One more word and I’ll hit her, consequences be damned," he thought, but forced himself to exhale. That wouldn’t help. It would only make things worse.
— "A reminder?" — Emma let out a short laugh, looking straight into Maddie’s eyes, where a flicker of surprise betrayed her expectations. — "I remember perfectly well how you hid behind daddy's skirt when I gave you a good smack, and then you put on an entire show for the principal, bawling so hard everyone thought I’d killed you! If it weren’t for your daddy…" Emma smirked and started taking another drag when, suddenly, the cigarette was slapped out of her hand with a sharp motion. Maddie struck her fingers with enough force to send the cigarette tumbling to the ground, leaving a thin trail of smoke in its wake.
The cigarette hit the pavement with a hiss, leaving a glowing ember on the gray concrete. Emma flinched, feeling a sharp sting in her fingers. Fury surged inside her—hot and all-consuming—the kind that always ignited during encounters with Maddie. But before it could erupt, a familiar, threadbare explanation replayed in Emma’s mind: "She’s just compensating. Poor little princess, starved for her parents' attention." That thought, something Mark had used to justify people like Maddie in the past, collided with a fresh wave of irritation. "Who cares why she acts this way? It doesn’t give her the right to be such a bitch!"
— "Are you freaking serious right now?!" — Mark barked, snapping his head up. His thin but trembling voice came out louder than he intended, startling Jessica, who flinched.
Maddie raised an eyebrow, her smirk spreading even wider. She seemed to savor every moment, relishing Emma's anger like a perfectly seasoned dish.
— "Oh, look at her—so mad!" — she said, stepping back theatrically and pressing a hand to her chest as if frightened. — "What’s the matter, Crazy Em? Are you a guy again today? Or are you president this time?" Her voice shook with laughter, and Scarlett and Lauren giggled, joining in the mockery.
Mark shot to his feet, fists clenched. He was barely in control—rage boiled inside him, ready to burst like a geyser. Another second and he might have hit Maddie square in her smug, grinning face, but a hand gently, yet firmly, grabbed his wrist. Jessica. Her eyes pleaded with him, filled with worry.
— "Emma, don’t," — she whispered, barely audible, but there was more resolve in her voice than Mark expected. She tightened her grip on his wrist, holding him back. — "You’ll only make it worse. Don’t let her win."
Mark froze, realizing that Jessica was anchoring him—not just physically but emotionally. She was right—hitting Maddie would’ve been the dumbest thing he could do. But the fury inside him still burned, and retreating felt like swallowing shards of glass.