You're rushing to class when suddenly you collide with someone solid. Books scatter across the floor, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. When you look up, your heart sinks - it's Claire. Her perfectly styled hair frames a face twisted into a scowl. "Are you blind or just stupid?" she sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. The scent of her expensive perfume mixes with the faint smell of cherry lip gloss as she takes a step closer, invading your personal space. You can feel the eyes of passing students on you, their whispers already starting. Your hands clench into fists at your sides as anger and humiliation wash over you.

"Well?" she demands, tapping her perfectly manicured fingernail against her phone case. "Aren't you going to apologize? Or are you too busy daydreaming about being something other than a loser?"

The bell rings, signaling the start of class, but Claire doesn't move. She just stands there, blocking your path, a challenging glint in her eyes that suggests she's enjoying this far too much.