Keeping It Fluid -24

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The next day, between second and third period, I was heading toward math when it happened.

I should've known the peace wouldn't last.

I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, when I felt it—the unmistakable sensation of someone watching me. Not in a friendly way. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and before I could even turn around, I heard his voice.

"Well look who it is," Trevor sneered behind me. "The confused little freak."

I froze in my tracks.

It had been weeks since he said anything that direct. Ever since the science class explosion and his full-on war with gravity, he'd been too busy embarrassing himself to remember I existed.

But I guess the humiliation wore off.

Slowly, I turned around to face him.

Trevor stood there with that same stupid smirk he always wore when he thought he was being clever. A couple of his usual tag-alongs lingered nearby, snickering like trained seals. They always laughed too loud, even when nothing was funny.

"Surprised you're still showing your face," Trevor said, stepping closer. "Figured you'd be hiding after you ran your mouth yesterday."

I didn't answer. Not because I couldn't—but because I knew he wanted a reaction.

He stepped even closer, noticing the clothes I was wearing. "What even are you, anyway? Are you a boy today? Kinda hard to keep track."

My heart pounded.

I could hear the words. I could feel the weight of them. The way he said it—like I was something broken. Like not fitting into his tiny little box made me less than him.

"Does it bother you that much?" I asked quietly, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "That I don't need your approval?"

His jaw twitched.

He hadn't expected me to say anything.

But before he could come up with a comeback, the bell rang—sharp, loud, and somehow perfect.

I turned away without another word, walking to class like my chest wasn't on fire.

I didn't cry. Not then. Not in front of him.

But my hands were shaking as I sat down at my desk. Jasmine and Mia weren't in this class with me, and for the first time in a while, I felt... alone.

Not because I didn't have friends with me, but because Trevor reminded me how easy it was to feel like an outsider in a school full of people who didn't get it.

Still, I wasn't going to let him win.

Not this time.

And definitely not without a fight.

At lunch, I sat in my usual spot—tray untouched, staring at a carton of chocolate milk like it might solve all my problems.

It didn't.

The cafeteria was as loud and chaotic as ever, but it all felt distant. Like I was underwater.

I didn't even notice Mia and Jasmine until they slid into their seats beside me.

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Hey. You good?"

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Fine."

Jasmine gave me a look. "You say that like someone who's very much not fine."

I hesitated, then exhaled. "It's nothing. Just—Trevor."

That was all it took.

Mia groaned, already rolling her eyes. "Ugh. What now?"

Jasmine narrowed her eyes. "What did he say?"

I picked at the corner of my napkin, not sure I even wanted to repeat it. "He... started in on me again. In the hallway. Said I was 'confused.' That I don't know what I am."

Mia's expression darkened. "That little—"

"He's just mad because he faceplanted in mashed potatoes," Jasmine snapped. "He's looking for someone to take it out on."

I shrugged, my voice quiet. "Yeah, well, apparently I'm an easy target."

"No," Mia said firmly. "You're not. You're just someone he doesn't understand, and instead of being a decent human about it, he's being a coward."

Jasmine leaned forward. "Seriously, we've got your back. Always. If he says something again, you tell us. We'll make sure he eats cafeteria meatloaf again, and this time it won't be an accident."

I cracked a tiny smile at that. "You planning a food-based revenge arc?"

Jasmine grinned. "Absolutely. I've already got mashed potato airstrikes in the works."

Mia smirked. "Operation Gravy Bomb is a go."

I laughed—a real one this time—and felt some of the weight in my chest start to lift.

They couldn't fix everything. Trevor wasn't going to magically stop being awful.

But I had people.

And sometimes, that was enough.

I picked up my fork and took a bite of something that vaguely resembled lasagna. "Okay. But if we're planning cafeteria-based warfare, I'm bringing the pudding cups."

Jasmine raised her juice box like a toast. "To the resistance."

Mia clinked hers against it. "And to making sure Trevor slips on karma every single day."

I smiled, clinking mine too.

Let him come for me.

I wasn't alone.

Gym class. Dodgeball. Again.

I still didn't understand why our teacher, Coach, loved this game so much. Maybe he enjoyed watching us all suffer. Maybe he had a deep, personal grudge against students and took it out through organized violence. Either way, dodgeball day was basically a free-for-all of chaos, bruises, and questionable survival instincts.

And, of course, Trevor thrived in it.

The second teams were picked, he was already puffing himself up like some dodgeball god, stretching dramatically like he was about to play in the Olympics. "Alright, losers," he announced to his team, cracking his knuckles. "Just stay out of my way. I got this."

I rolled my eyes. Jasmine, standing next to me, smirked. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Mia snickered. "Oh yeah. The last time he said that, he tripped over his own shoelaces."

And, because the universe apparently loved us today, it turned out Trevor had not learned from his past mistakes.

The game started with the usual chaos—balls flying everywhere, kids ducking and diving like their lives depended on it. I managed to avoid getting hit early on, hanging toward the back while the more aggressive players went at it.

Trevor, on the other hand, was way too into it.

He was chucking dodgeballs like he had something to prove, aiming for the biggest kids first, trying to show off. "BOOM! You're out!" he shouted after hitting some guy named Greg in the leg. "Too slow!"

Coach blew the whistle. "Trevor, stop taunting. Just play the game."

Trevor ignored him, flexing his arms like he was some kind of gym class champion.

And then, it happened.

One of the kids on the other team, Marcus—who, unlike Trevor, actually was good at dodgeball—locked onto him. With one perfectly aimed throw, the ball whipped through the air straight toward Trevor's chest.

Trevor saw it coming.

He could have dodged. He could have caught it.

But instead, in the most Trevor move imaginable...

He screamed.

Like, actual shrieking.

Not a manly yell. Not an angry grunt.

A full, high-pitched shriek.

Then—WHAM!

The ball nailed him dead center, knocking him backward so hard that he tripped over his own feet and went crashing to the floor in a flailing heap.

Silence.

Then—

The gym exploded with laughter.

Even Coach looked like he was holding back a grin.

Jasmine had to lean on Mia for support. Mia was clutching her stomach, wheezing.

I was too stunned to even react for a second.

Trevor, still sprawled on the floor, groaned. "Ughhh..."

Coach sighed. "Trevor. You're out."

Trevor lifted his head, glaring at Marcus. "You cheated."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Dude. It's dodgeball."

Trevor groaned again, rolling onto his back like he had just suffered a great personal tragedy.

Meanwhile, Jasmine wiped tears from her eyes, still laughing. "This might be better than the meatloaf incident."

Mia shook her head, grinning. "Nah. But it's a close second."

I smirked, crossing my arms. "Guess gravity won again."

Trevor shot me a death glare as he dragged himself up and stomped toward the sidelines.

I just smiled.

Gym class wasn't always my favorite.

But today?

Today was a masterpiece.

After gym, I was still grinning as I headed to the locker room with Jasmine and Mia.

"You have to admit," Mia said, pulling open her locker, "this might be the greatest week in history."

Jasmine snorted. "We're witnessing Trevor's slow and painful downfall, one humiliation at a time."

I smirked, grabbing my extra shirt. "And the best part? He does it all to himself."

Mia nodded. "First, the science disaster. Then, the meatloaf incident. Now he screams like a five-year-old and eats the gym floor? I swear, if he keeps this up, we're gonna need to make a highlight reel."

Jasmine gasped dramatically. "OH MY GOSH. We should set it to dramatic music."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You two are evil."

Mia grinned. "Hey, if the universe is handing us free entertainment, who are we to refuse?"

The locker room was its usual mess—girls chatting, lockers slamming, the faint smell of sweat and body spray filling the air.

But just as I was pulling on my hoodie, I felt it again.

That prickling sensation.

Like I was being watched.

I turned my head slightly—and sure enough, across the room, two girls were whispering and glancing my way.

My stomach clenched.

I didn't recognize them, but I knew that look. The kind people gave when they thought they were being subtle, but weren't.

"Ugh." Jasmine must've noticed too. "Really? What's their problem?"

Mia's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me Trevor's little tantrum squad is starting something."

I sighed, shutting my locker a little harder than necessary. "I don't know. But I'm so not in the mood."

Jasmine crossed her arms. "Want me to go over there and ask them if they have something to say?"

I shook my head. "No. It's not worth it."

Mia leaned against her locker. "If it gets worse, tell us. 'Cause if anyone thinks they're gonna mess with you just because Trevor's mad, they have another thing coming."

I gave her a small, grateful smile.

Jasmine smirked. "Exactly. We'll take them out. Dodgeball style."

I laughed. "So, what? You're gonna pelt them with gym equipment?"

Jasmine grinned. "Hey, if the shoe fits."

Mia gave a dramatic sigh. "Ah, yes. The art of dodgeball warfare. A time-honored tradition."

The tension eased a little, but I still felt that unease lingering in the back of my mind.

Because I knew this wasn't over.

Trevor wasn't done.

And something told me... this was only the beginning.

After school, I stepped outside, letting out a long breath as the crisp air hit my face.

Mom's car was already parked near the front of the pickup line, Lily and Sam sitting in the backseat. I spotted Sam on their phone, completely zoned out, while Lily was staring out the window, probably daydreaming about whatever book she was currently obsessed with.

As soon as I opened the passenger door and slid inside, Mom smiled at me. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?"

I hesitated for half a second before forcing a smile. "It was... interesting."

Lily glanced up. "Interesting bad or interesting good?"

I snorted. "A little bit of both."

Sam finally looked up. "What happened?"

I leaned back in my seat. "Well, for starters, Trevor made an absolute fool of himself in dodgeball."

Lily gasped dramatically. "Tell me everything."

Mom, already pulling out of the parking lot, sighed. "I don't even need to hear this to know it's going to be ridiculous."

"Oh, it was," I assured her. "He was acting like some kind of dodgeball champion—bragging, flexing, all of it—and then Marcus drilled him in the chest."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Wait—Marcus? That guy's insane at dodgeball."

"Exactly," I said. "Trevor totally could've dodged, but instead he just screamed at the top of his lungs and got knocked on his butt."

Lily wheezed.

Sam grinned. "Did anyone get it on video?"

"I really hope so." I smirked. "He basically flopped to the ground like a cartoon character."

Lily giggled. "That's beautiful."

Mom shook her head, amused. "Well, at least you got some entertainment today."

"Yeah," I said. "But..."

Mom must've caught something in my tone, because she glanced at me. "But?"

I hesitated, gripping my hoodie sleeve.

I hadn't told Jasmine and Mia, but something about today had left a bad feeling in my stomach.

Trevor had always been a jerk, but something was... different.

Like he was really looking for a reason to start something.

"He was worse than usual today," I finally admitted. "In the hallway, he—he started saying stuff. About me. About being 'confused' and not knowing what I am."

Silence.

Mom's hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Lily looked furious. "He what?"

Sam sighed heavily. "God, he's such a loser."

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it."

Mom exhaled through her nose. "Emily, if this keeps happening, you need to tell a teacher."

"I know," I muttered. "I just... don't want to make it worse."

"He's the one making it worse," Lily pointed out. "You're just existing."

Sam nodded. "Exactly. You shouldn't have to put up with his garbage."

I swallowed hard, staring out the window as buildings blurred past.

I wanted to believe this was just Trevor being his usual obnoxious self. That maybe, if I ignored him long enough, he'd get bored and move on.

But deep down...

I wasn't sure he would this time.

And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.