Nancy Bobofit was, in my professional opinion, the human equivalent of recycled chewed gum.
Sticky.
Annoying.
Impossible to get rid of.
If there were an Olympic event for making other people's lives miserable, she'd win gold without breaking a sweat. She always managed to find someone weaker to pick on, someone she could embarrass just enough to make herself feel important. Most of the time, that someone was me.
Maybe it was because I was the weird kid.
Maybe it was because I had been kicked out of enough schools that everyone assumed I was trouble before I even opened my mouth.
Or maybe she simply enjoyed seeing how far she could push people before they snapped.
Whatever the reason, Nancy never seemed to run out of ideas.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art should have been one place where she couldn't cause problems.
Apparently, I gave her too much credit.
Our class shuffled through the Greek exhibits while Mr. Brunner enthusiastically explained myths that somehow sounded more real than fairy tales ever should have. Grover walked beside me, nervously clutching his lunch bag as though it contained priceless treasure instead of cafeteria food.
"You okay?" he whispered.
I shrugged.
"As okay as I ever am."
He frowned but didn't press the issue.
Grover had been my best friend at Yancy Academy ever since I arrived. He wasn't exactly brave. In fact, he startled so easily that a loud sneeze could probably send him running for cover. But he was loyal, and that counted for something.
Unfortunately, loyalty made him an easy target.
Nancy drifted toward us with two of her equally obnoxious friends trailing behind her like satellites orbiting a particularly irritating planet.
"Well, if it isn't the loser squad," she said loudly.
I ignored her.
Experience had taught me that responding only encouraged her.
She circled around until she stood directly in front of Grover.
"What've you got there?"
Grover instinctively hugged the paper lunch bag closer.
"My lunch."
Nancy rolled her eyes dramatically.
"No kidding."
Her friends laughed as though she'd delivered the funniest joke in history.
I clenched my jaw.
Keep walking.
Ignore her.
She'll get bored.
She never got bored.
Instead, she reached into her own lunch sack and pulled out half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It looked like she'd already taken several bites out of it, leaving uneven edges and sticky globs of jelly threatening to drip onto the museum floor.
She held it between two fingers with exaggerated delicacy.
"You hungry, Goat Boy?"
Grover's face reddened.
"Nancy..."
Before he could finish, she flicked her wrist.
The sandwich flew through the air in a lazy arc.
Time seemed to slow.
I watched the bread spin once.
Twice.
Then—
Splat.
The half-eaten sandwich smacked directly against Grover's forehead before sliding down his face and landing on the floor with a wet smack.
Peanut butter clung to his hair.
Purple jelly dripped down the side of his cheek.
The entire hallway erupted in laughter.
Nancy doubled over, practically gasping for breath.
"Oh my gods!" she wheezed. "Did you see his face?"
Even her friends struggled to stay standing.
Grover didn't laugh.
He quietly removed the bread from his head and stared at it for a moment before lowering his eyes.
He looked embarrassed.
Humiliated.
Like he wished he could disappear.
Something inside me snapped.
Not completely.
Just enough.
A primal heat ignited deep within my stomach.
It spread through my chest like wildfire, racing along every nerve until my heartbeat thundered in my ears. My muscles tightened instinctively. My hands curled into fists before I consciously realized I was making them.
The anger felt different this time.
Usually, anger burned hot and faded quickly.
This...
This was ancient.
Heavy.
Almost alive.
It whispered that justice wasn't something you waited for.
It was something you took.
I stared directly at Nancy.
The smug grin stretched across her face, her eyes glittering with satisfaction as though she'd accomplished something worth celebrating.
Every instinct screamed the same thing.
Make her regret it.
For one terrifying moment, I wanted exactly that.
Not just to yell.
Not just to shove her.
I wanted every ounce of humiliation she'd dumped on Grover to come crashing back onto her.
The intensity of the feeling startled me.
It wasn't normal.
It felt bigger than me.
Older than me.
As though some hidden force deep inside my soul had awakened and taken offense on my behalf.
The air around me suddenly felt strangely heavy.
A cool breeze brushed against my skin despite the museum being completely enclosed.
The hairs on my arms stood upright.
The marble floor beneath my shoes vibrated so faintly that I almost convinced myself I'd imagined it.
Nancy kept laughing.
She didn't notice.
No one did.
Except me.
Something invisible stirred just beyond the edge of perception.
The fountain nearby shimmered.
Its surface rippled despite there being no wind.
Tiny droplets rose into the air before gently falling back into the basin.
I blinked.
Had that really happened?
The strange warmth inside me intensified.
My pulse echoed like distant thunder.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
Some instinct—one I couldn't explain—warned me not to move.
Not yet.
Not because I was afraid of Nancy.
Because whatever was happening had nothing to do with her anymore.
She had only lit the spark.
Something far greater had caught fire.
I took one slow breath.
Another.
The anger remained, but it no longer felt wild.
It felt focused.
Directed.
Waiting.
Somewhere deep within the museum, almost too quiet to hear, came the sound of stone scraping against stone.
The noise lasted only a second.
No one else reacted.
Mr. Brunner continued talking.
Students resumed chatting.
Nancy was still grinning.
But every instinct I possessed told me the day had changed.
I had wanted to lash out.
To make Nancy Bobofit regret ever crossing the line.
Instead, the world had chosen a far stranger destination for my anger.
The gods, it seemed, had been watching.
And whatever happened next would make a flying sandwich seem like the least important event of the day.