Whispers circulated through the hallways as Ace walked past the rows of lockers and clumps of students that were normally gathered in the morning before first period. Unlike most mornings, however, his bright grins and charismatic greetings didn't seem to elicit the warm responses that they normally did from his classmates. No one returned his smiles or seemed to acknowledge his attempts at chasing away what appeared to be Monday-morning depression. Most of his classmates turned away when they saw him coming, none able to make eye contact. Those who glanced his way had misty eyes or looked like they were close to tears. Some looked angry, but he let his gaze slide over them as he swept past on his way to his own locker.
He wasn't surprised, however. After the council meeting that had happened on Friday evening, word had presumably spread throughout the student body of Eastgate High regarding the unanimous vote to close the school. There was now less than a week left before the proposal reached the district board for consideration, and Ace could barely suppress the smug smile that threatened to creep across his face as he strode down the hall, knowing he could be looking at these walls for the last time. Everything was falling into place just as he planned.
As he reached the end of the hallway, Ace saw a familiar looking group gathered in a cluster by a locker that he knew well. The locker belonged to the girl who he had once called a protégé, a passionate and devoted student who had, in the end, betrayed him and prevented him from obtaining the White House internship that he so rightfully deserved. The malice he felt for her was held a special place in his heart, and it had made him twist with pleasure to slowly destroy everything she had worked so hard to build up. He thought there was almost something justly poetic about it, really.
He couldn't resist an opportunity to gloat to the only group who knew his true agenda and motives. Julian, Autumn, Nishan, Sakura, Wes, Payton, Mia, Ezra, Koh; he rattled their names off one by one in his head as he drew nearer. It made it all the more sweet to know that they knew exactly what he was capable of, but had no power to stop the plan he had so arduously crafted to ensure their school's closure.
"Oh, don't look so down. I'm sure that you'll have plenty of other schools who would be willing to take you in as transfers," he greeted as he approached, hovering around the edge of the circle they had made around the locker. He could see that nearly all of the members of the little ragtag group of "rebels" were assembled in a veritable huddle, but they were missing their leader. "I'm sure one or two might even be willing to take Sasha out of pity, if she were here. What, was she too ashamed to show her face here today, knowing that everyone blames her for the proposal to close Eastgate?" he continued, smugness leaking into his tone. He no longer had any reason to put on a façade of friendliness around them. He had gotten what he had wanted, after all. What was there left to do now but wait for the council's vote? The decision they would hand down was obvious, and everyone knew it.
Autumn suddenly whipped around, and Ace was momentarily taken aback to see heavy tear-tracks cutting down her face. Her makeup was smeared, and her eyes were read and swollen. Evidently, she had been crying heavily. "S-screw you," she choked, her voice cracking as fresh tears welled up. "You monster," her voice trembled as a sob wracked her body. Julian reached for her, but before he could console her Autumn tore herself away and suddenly ran down the hallway.
"Autumn!" Julian pleaded, his voice equally as raw as he made a dash after her. Ace watched them go, the smile still fixed firmly on his face. It was more than amusing to watch them finally break under the reality of the situation just as Sascha had when he had spied her in the gallery during the vote on Friday, tears spilling from her eyes.
His gaze flickered back to the remaining members of the group, and he could see that all of them were in various stages of upset. Payton was softly crying into a small silk handkerchief as Ezra held her tightly against his chest, looking as if he was trying to whisper something comforting to his girlfriend. Nishan and Sakura both looked on the precipice of tears, and Ace had to admit it was quite satisfying to finally see cracks in the indomitable Sakura's hardened disposition. Wes was tossing glances towards the retreating figures of Julian and Autumn, looking as if he was unsure whether or not he wanted to go after them or stay put where he was. Koh stood with a blank stare as if someone had just hollowed her out, and Mia was trembling noticeably and giving shaky breaths that suggested she was crying as she buried her face in her hands and turned away from the group.
"Cheer up, I'm sure they'll build an even better school right here on this lot once they close down Eastgate. You all look like someone kicked a bunch of puppies; pull yourselves together!" Ace encouraged, his devilish grin unwavering as he looked to everyone in turn.
That was when Wes suddenly wheeled on him, his attention no longer divided by his two retreating friends. The pain in his eyes was replaced with fire in an instant, and Ace was unprepared for what came next.
"Are you—are you fucking kidding me?!" Wes shouted, his normally calm and collected demeanor shattered like glass. Ace had never seen Wes react so violently for anything, and Ace's grin froze for a moment on his face. "What the fuck is wrong with you? How—how dare you," Wes was nearly hysterical, his voice cracking as he spoke. His eyes looked moist, and tears threatened to spill. "Get the fuck out," the brunette managed, voice teeming with rage and upset as he bared his teeth at Ace in a gesture that could almost be akin to a snarl.
Ace stared at them, not sure if they had gone some sort of mental. Sure, he knew that they were strongly attached to their school, but this looked like someone had burned it to the ground and then danced on the ashes. "Oh, come on," Ace started. "I'm sure that Sascha—"
He was suddenly silenced by Wes, who threw a sucker punch to Ace's nose. There was an unexpectedly sharp pain followed the sensation of something warm trickling down the teen's face. He stumbled back, caught completely by surprise. Ace's hand flew up to feel his nose as rivulets of blood dripped into his cupped palm and the feeling of anger rose like a wave within him.
"WHAT THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT SASCHA?" Wes screamed. Nishan and Ezra were on him in an instant, holding Wes back at the arms as the slacker lunged forward to try and pummel Ace. Tears were now falling freely from Wes's face, and it looked like he was hysterical as he gave incoherent and broken shouts mixed with sobs.
"Leave," Koh suddenly spoke up, her voice quiet and laced with dangerous malice. Despite the soft volume of her tone, Ace could easily hear her over Wes's rambling. Her eyes were hardened, and she looked like she was about to claw at him.
Ace's previous feelings of mirth had disappeared, and he glared at the group as he tried to hold back the nosebleed and maintain his dignity. "You all deserve each other," Ace spat. "You're all you have at this point," he hissed, eyes narrowed as he turned away. He couldn't return Wes's punch as much as he wanted to; he had an image to maintain. Getting into a fight with these nobodies would destroy that for him if any witnesses were around. Although no one further down the hall had seemed to have heard Wes's screaming, it was likely that a fight would attract all the wrong attention.
Ace pulled away, making his way to the men's room at a clipped pace. He needed to take care of this bleeding before it stained his immaculate dress attire. Pushing open the bathroom door at the end of the hallway, he was glad to see that no other students were here. It would be a hassle to make up some sort of accident to cover for the injury. He hurried to the counter, grabbing some of the paper towels from the dispenser that hung on the wall. He quickly cleaned off the blood that had pooled in his cupped hand and smeared across the front of his face, and made sure to take a fresh wad to catch any residual blood as he pinched his nose and tilted his head forward. His face felt tender, and he wasn't surprised to see that his nose had swelled slightly. He made a disgusted scowl, the anger at Wes resurfacing. He had no idea that the other boy was so unstable; Wes had always seemed so collected and in-check of his emotions.
Ace leaned on the counter as he waited for the blood to stop dripping. He didn't want to have to take a trip to the nurse's before first period; it wasn't worth it. His eyes roamed around the bathroom as he looked for something interesting to distract himself with, and eventually they fell to the copy of a newspaper sitting on the sink counter next to him. With half-hearted interest, Ace picked up the paper with his free hand. It was a copy of the local newspaper, not the school gazette he had been expecting. Someone must have left it there off-handedly when they were done reading it, he assumed. His gaze was immediately drawn to the paper's bold headline, and he felt his blood run cold as the words processed and sunk in.
THE PASSING OF A HOMETOWN HERO, the bolded letters proclaimed over a picture of a familiar looking face that smiled up at him. It was Sascha, her curly brown hair clipped back neatly and her shining white teeth appearing to reflect the sunlight that was present in the photo. The picture looked relatively recent, perhaps from the summer before this schoolyear had begun. She wore a sundress with a flowery pattern, its color indeterminate with the greyscale of the newsprint. The picture had evidently been taken outside, as she was standing in what appeared to be a garden spotted with leafy vegetation and flowers.
Sascha Reid, a former junior at Eastgate High, was discovered on the morning of Sunday the tenth to have taken her own life… the article began in unforgiving black typeface. Ace couldn't even bring himself to finish the first sentence as a roll of nausea suddenly surfaced, and the paper trembled in his grasp to such a degree that it was almost impossible to read the rest of the article.
Certain words jumped out at him, however, and the teen's face grew paler as he digested them. …Holding a note reading 'You Win,' over dosage of Ibuprofen, unexpected and shocking…
Ace was breathing heavily, the hand that held the wad of paper towels lowering to clutch the counter in a white-knuckle grip as he leaned forward for support. He was weak at the knees as a cold sweat broke out at the realization.
It was him. He had pushed her to commit suicide, and he had gloated about it to her friends. A strangled noise of pain welled up from Ace's throat, and he looked up to stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
He gazed into the face of a murderer through a veil of blossoming tears. The blood dripped slowly down his face, splattering onto the newspaper pressed between his shaking fingers.