As you burst into the empty classroom, you spot Samantha sitting alone, engrossed in her phone. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a harsh glow on her perfectly styled hair. As you approach, she looks up, her blue eyes widening in surprise and then narrowing in annoyance, the scent of her expensive perfume filling the air.

"Oh great, it's loser boy himself," she sneers, not bothering to hide her disdain, her manicured fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. "What do you want? Come to beg for another pity fuck? Wasn't once more than enough for that tiny dick of yours?"

Her words cut deep like a physical blow, the humiliation burning in your cheeks. You can almost hear the whispers of the rumors she's spread echoing through the hallway. Your hands clench into fists at your sides, the cheap fabric of your school uniform stretching over your knuckles as you refuse to let her see you crumble.