Gym class was early today, which was strange. The moment we stepped into the brightly lit gymnasium, the sound of sneakers squeaking against polished wood echoed around us. The air carried a mix of excitement and tension as we filed onto the court. Our teacher didn't waste time, dividing us quickly into two teams with a few quick gestures. No lengthy speeches, no drawn-out explanations—just action.

I was relieved when I ended up on the same team as Jasmine and Mia. Across the gym, Trevor stood with his teammates, already cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for some kind of championship match. His smug expression made it clear he planned to dominate the game.

"Trevor's going down," Jasmine muttered under her breath, tightening the laces on her sneakers. Her hazel eyes narrowed, burning with determination. "I'm tired of his nonsense."

"Let's try not to make this personal," I said, though I couldn't help but grin. "It's just dodgeball."

"Yeah, but he's been asking for it," Mia added, bouncing a foam ball lightly in her hands. She rotated it in her grip, already plotting her strategy. "This is the perfect opportunity."

The sharp blast of the whistle rang out, and the game began.

The first few minutes were absolute chaos. The moment the whistle blew, players sprinted forward, lunging for the scattered dodgeballs at the center line. Foam balls flew like missiles, whizzing through the air with surprising speed. Some players dove to the ground to avoid getting hit, while others lobbed throws with reckless abandon.

Jasmine barely lasted thirty seconds. A rogue ball came out of nowhere, smacking her right in the shin. She stumbled dramatically, clutching her leg as if she'd been mortally wounded.

"Go on without me!" she wailed, dragging herself toward the bleachers like a soldier in a war movie.

"You're so brave!" I called back through my laughter, narrowly ducking as a ball whizzed past my ear.

Meanwhile, Mia was a force to be reckoned with. She moved like she had a sixth sense, dodging every incoming throw with effortless grace. She ducked, spun, and side-stepped with precision, her movements so quick it was almost like she could see the throws coming before they left her opponents' hands. Every ball she threw seemed to find its mark, knocking out opponents left and right.

Trevor, on the other hand, played with brute force. He hurled balls with unnecessary aggression, sending them soaring across the gym like cannon fire. He took down players ruthlessly, one after another, grinning whenever one of his targets got eliminated. At one point, he threw so hard that he accidentally hit one of his own teammates in the back.

"Nice one, Trevor!" someone shouted sarcastically.

Trevor scowled but didn't respond. He was too focused, his eyes scanning the court like a predator looking for his next victim.

As the game wore on, our numbers thinned. One by one, our teammates fell until it was just Mia and me left against Trevor and two of his friends. My heart pounded as I surveyed the court. The gym, which had been a whirlwind of motion minutes ago, felt eerily still. Every remaining player had their eyes locked on each other, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"This is it," Mia said, crouching slightly with a dodgeball gripped tightly in her hands. "Final stand."

"No pressure," I muttered, my pulse quickening. My arms ached from throwing, and my legs burned from all the running and dodging, but I wasn't about to give up now.

The whistle blew again, and Trevor wasted no time. He hurled a ball straight at me with alarming speed. I barely managed to duck in time, feeling the rush of air as it zipped past my head and slammed into the far wall with a loud thud.

Scrambling, I snatched up a ball from the floor and threw it with all my might. It sailed through the air and struck one of Trevor's teammates square in the chest. They stumbled backward before sighing in defeat and jogging toward the bleachers.

"Nice shot!" Mia cheered, her grin widening.

Trevor's scowl deepened, his focus now locked on Mia. He grabbed another ball and threw it with full force, but Mia was ready. She sidestepped at the last second, the ball bouncing harmlessly against the wall behind her. Without wasting a beat, she scooped it up and launched it right back.

Her aim was flawless. The ball struck Trevor's shoulder with a satisfying smack, sending him stumbling back a step. For a moment, he just stood there, stunned, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.

The whistle blew sharply, signaling the end of the game.

Our team erupted into cheers. Laughter and celebration filled the gym as Mia jogged over, her face flushed with victory.

"You were amazing," I said, high-fiving her.

"Thanks," she said, still catching her breath. "But you got us that first out. Team effort."

Trevor stormed past us, his expression sour. He muttered something under his breath, but I didn't catch it. Probably something about a rematch.

Jasmine, now fully recovered from her injury, smirked as she watched him sulk. "Looks like someone can't handle losing."

"Let him sulk," Mia said with a shrug. "We've got the win."

The teacher gathered everyone near the center of the gym for a cooldown. We stretched in place, shaking out our arms and legs as we caught our breath. My muscles ached from the game, but it was a satisfying kind of soreness.

Mia stretched beside me, still grinning. "That was intense."

"Yeah, but it was fun," I said, rolling my shoulders. "I think we needed that."

Behind us, Trevor sat on the floor, stretching out his legs with a blank expression. His hands curled into fists before relaxing, his jaw tightening as he stared straight ahead. I didn't notice the way his eyes flickered toward me, or the way his expression darkened slightly.

To me, the game was over. But to Trevor, this wasn't finished.

As we walked toward the locker rooms, chatting about the match, Trevor watched in silence.

This was just the beginning.

Trevor lingered near the doorway of the gym, arms crossed as he watched me disappear into the locker room. His lips curled into a smirk, his mind already working on his next move. Losing dodgeball wasn't the end for him—it was a challenge.

He would find a way to even the score.

As I laughed with Mia and Jasmine, oblivious to his plotting, Trevor turned on his heel and walked away. The war had only just begun.

After gym class, the adrenaline still buzzed in my veins as we made our way to the locker rooms. Mia and I were still catching our breath, while Jasmine, who had long since "recovered" from her dramatic dodgeball injury, prattled on about how we should celebrate our victory.

"I say we write a poem in honor of our fallen teammates," Jasmine declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Something tragic but inspiring. A true ode to the dodgeball battlefield."

Mia snorted, tossing her gym shirt into her locker. "Or we could just rub it in Trevor's face."

I rolled my eyes as I pulled on my regular shirt. "Come on, let's not make it a whole thing. It's just a game."

"You don't get it," Mia said, leaning in conspiratorially. "For guys like Trevor? It's never just a game."

Jasmine grinned. "Exactly. He'll be stewing over this all day. Maybe longer."

I shrugged it off. It wasn't my problem if Trevor took things too seriously. Gym was over, and as far as I was concerned, so was the match. But deep down, I had a nagging feeling that Mia might be right.

By the time we stepped out of the locker room, the halls were already packed with students heading to their next class. The three of us fell into step, but as we rounded the corner, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the wall just outside the gym entrance.

Trevor.

His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable as his eyes flickered toward me. He didn't say anything—just watched. For a second, I thought he might call out some taunt or demand a rematch, but instead, he simply smirked. Then, as if satisfied, he turned and walked off down the hall.

"What was that about?" Jasmine asked, glancing between us.

I exhaled, shaking my head. "I don't know, but I think Trevor just declared war."

Mia chuckled. "Then I hope he's ready to lose again."

By lunchtime, I had almost forgotten about Trevor's weird behavior. Almost.

The cafeteria was its usual chaotic mess—students yelling across tables, the smell of pizza and fries hanging heavy in the air, and the ever-present clatter of trays and chairs scraping against the tile floor. Mia, Jasmine, and I made our way to our usual spot near the windows, where we could eat in relative peace.

Just as I sat down, I spotted Trevor at the other side of the room. His table was packed with his usual crowd, mostly guys from gym class. They were talking animatedly, and every now and then, I caught Trevor glancing in my direction.

Jasmine followed my gaze and let out a knowing hum. "Yep. He's plotting."

"Let him," I muttered, stabbing my fork into my mashed potatoes. "I'm not getting into some dumb rivalry with him over a game."

"Famous last words," Mia said, smirking.

I ignored her, determined to enjoy my lunch, but Trevor had other plans. Just as I was about to take a bite, a dodgeball came rolling across the cafeteria floor, bumping into the leg of our table.

I froze.

Slowly, I looked up, and sure enough, Trevor was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, that same smirk on his face.

Mia picked up the ball, turning it over in her hands. "Seriously?"

Trevor didn't say anything at first. He just stared at me, then pointed at the ball. "You should hold onto that," he said finally. "You'll need it."

And with that, he turned and walked back to his table, his friends laughing as they watched the scene unfold.

Jasmine blinked. "Did... did he just challenge you to a cafeteria dodgeball match?"

Mia let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "No. This is bigger than that."

I sighed, dropping my fork. "Great. So what, I'm supposed to just be on high alert for flying dodgeballs for the rest of the day?"

Mia grinned, tossing the ball between her hands. "Looks like the war's officially begun."

Jasmine clapped me on the shoulder. "We'll back you up, don't worry. If this turns into some kind of prank war, you'll need allies."

I groaned, resting my forehead against the table. "Why can't Trevor just accept defeat like a normal person?"

"Because," Mia said, patting the dodgeball like it was a trophy, "some people just hate to lose."

And judging by the look on Trevor's face, he wasn't just going to let this go.

No, this was far from over.

This was only the beginning.

By the time lunch ended, I was already bracing myself for whatever Trevor had planned next. I half-expected him to launch an attack right then and there—maybe dump a carton of milk over my head or trip me on the way out—but nothing happened. Instead, he just watched as we left the cafeteria, his smirk never fading.

It was unsettling.

As we walked toward our next class, Jasmine leaned in close. "Okay, I don't like this. He's too quiet."

Mia nodded, spinning the dodgeball Trevor had left at our table earlier. "Yeah, I was expecting some kind of dramatic cafeteria stunt. But nothing?" She frowned. "That's not his style."

I sighed. "Maybe he finally got over it."

Jasmine scoffed. "Yeah, and maybe pigs are flying over the school right now."

Mia grinned. "Nah, if Trevor was over it, he wouldn't be watching you like that."

I wanted to argue, but deep down, I knew they were right. Trevor wasn't the type to let something go so easily.

I just didn't know when he'd strike.

The three of us made our way to our next class—science. The classroom smelled faintly of disinfectant and the remnants of whatever chemical experiment had gone wrong earlier in the day. Students were already settling into their seats, and our teacher, Mr. Sanderson, stood at the front, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as he organized the notes for today's lecture.

I slid into my seat, grateful to finally have a moment of normalcy. Mia sat next to me, Jasmine behind. Trevor, unfortunately, was a few rows over, but he wasn't paying attention to his books. No, he was still watching.

I ignored him.

Class started, and for a while, everything was fine. Mr. Sanderson droned on about chemical reactions, and I focused on jotting down notes. Trevor didn't do anything. No whispering. No throwing paper. No dumb distractions.

Maybe—maybe—I really had overestimated him.

Then, just as I started to relax, it happened.

A loud bang echoed through the classroom.

My entire body jolted, and I wasn't the only one. Several students gasped, and Mr. Sanderson spun around. My heart pounded as I turned toward the source of the noise.

A cloud of white powder had exploded over my desk.

I blinked, frozen in shock. My entire notebook, my arms, even my lap—everything was covered in fine white dust. It took me a second to register what had just happened. Flour. Someone had rigged a small bag of flour under my desk.

The moment I shifted in my seat, the whole thing had burst open.

The class erupted into laughter.

I whipped my head toward Trevor, and sure enough, he was grinning. Not a smirk this time—an actual grin. He had been waiting for this.

"Oh, come on," Jasmine groaned behind me. "Flour? Really? That's the best you've got?"

Mia, on the other hand, was trying to stifle a laugh. "I mean... it's kind of classic."

I glared at Trevor, shaking the flour off my arms. "Seriously?"

Trevor just shrugged. "Hey, I told you. This wasn't over."

Mr. Sanderson was not amused. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, who's responsible for this?"

No one spoke. The laughter died down a little.

Trevor leaned back in his seat, looking far too pleased with himself.

I could call him out. I could get him in trouble. But something about the smug look on his face made me pause. He wanted me to react. He wanted me to escalate things.

No way.

Instead, I just exhaled and grabbed my notebook, shaking the flour off the pages. "I don't know, sir," I said casually. "Maybe it was a chemical reaction."

A few students snickered. Trevor raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised I hadn't ratted him out.

Mr. Sanderson gave me a tired look. "Go to the restroom and clean up."

I nodded and stood, brushing off my shirt as best I could. As I passed Trevor's desk, I leaned in slightly, just enough for him to hear.

"You should watch your back," I murmured. "Because now? You're next."

Trevor's smirk faltered just a little.

Good.

Mia and Jasmine followed me out into the hallway as I made my way toward the nearest restroom. The moment the door swung shut behind us, Mia grinned. "Alright, that settles it. This means war."

Jasmine nodded. "Yep. It's prank time."

I sighed, washing the flour off my arms. "I don't know if I should be encouraging this."

Mia crossed her arms. "Oh, please. He literally declared war on you. What, you're just gonna sit back and let him win?"

I wasn't sure what to do.

I washed the last of the flour from my arms in the bathroom sink, shaking off the excess water before grabbing a handful of paper towels. Mia and Jasmine waited nearby, their expressions caught somewhere between amusement and mild outrage.

"I still say we should get him back," Mia muttered, arms crossed.

Jasmine nodded. "Yeah, but how? Because I don't want to get detention just because Trevor can't handle losing a game."

I sighed, wiping my hands dry. "No. We're not getting back at him. That's exactly what he wants."

Mia blinked. "Wait, what?"

Jasmine looked just as surprised. "You're just gonna let him get away with it?"

I tossed the paper towels into the trash. "I never said that. I just don't think fighting fire with fire is the way to go."

Mia frowned. "Then what's the plan?"

I took a deep breath. "Trevor's not used to losing. And when he does lose, he makes it personal. If we pull some big prank on him, he's just going to come back harder. It'll never end." I shook my head. "If we don't give him what he wants, maybe—maybe—he'll get bored and move on."

Jasmine leaned against the wall, considering it. "So, what? We just ignore him?"

I shrugged. "Not exactly. If he keeps messing with me, I'll deal with it. But I'm not going to waste my time on a back-and-forth prank war."

Mia sighed. "You're such a better person than me."

Jasmine grinned. "Same. I'd have gone full 'Operation Get Even' by now."

I laughed. "Trust me, I want to. But it's not worth it."

Mia threw up her hands. "Fine. We'll do it your way." She paused, then smirked. "For now."

Jasmine chuckled. "Yeah, but if he dumps a bucket of slime on you or something, then we're getting even."

I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Deal."

By the time we got back to class, most of the flour had settled, though there was still a faint dusting on my desk. Mr. Sanderson barely glanced up as we sat down, continuing his lecture on chemical reactions.

Trevor, of course, looked very pleased with himself. His smirk hadn't faded, and I could practically hear the silent challenge in his gaze.

I ignored him.

I took out a fresh sheet of paper and focused on my notes. No glares, no whispered threats of revenge. Just... nothing.

At first, Trevor didn't seem to notice. He leaned back in his chair, still grinning like he expected some kind of retaliation. But as the minutes ticked by, his expression started to shift. The longer I went without reacting, the less certain he looked.

By the end of class, he wasn't smirking anymore.

The rest of the school day passed without any more surprises. Trevor didn't try anything else—no more pranks, no more dodgeballs rolling across the cafeteria floor. It was almost disappointing.

Almost.

As I grabbed my books from my locker at the end of the day, I felt a presence nearby. I turned my head just in time to see Trevor leaning against the row of lockers a few feet away.

He wasn't smirking anymore.

For a long moment, he just looked at me, like he was trying to figure something out. Then, finally, he spoke.

"You're not gonna do anything back?"

I shut my locker and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Nope."

Trevor frowned. "Why not?"

I exhaled, meeting his gaze. "Because it's not worth it."

He blinked, like he wasn't sure how to process that. "So that's it? You're just letting it go?"

"Yeah." I adjusted my strap and stepped past him. "You should try it sometime."

For once, Trevor didn't have a comeback.

As I walked toward the exit, Mia and Jasmine caught up with me.

"Well?" Mia asked. "Did he say anything?"

I smiled. "Yeah. And I think I broke him."

Jasmine laughed. "Nice."

Mia grinned. "Okay, okay. Maybe this was the better move."