Twelve
You trudge down the aisle and sink uncomfortably into the seat next to Jeff.His forehead is sloped to jut out over squinty eyes. His nose, crooked from being broken over and over again in fights, is above a shifty grin. The skin on his arms is tough and scarred, hairy. On his fingers stand a legion of chunky gold rings.
They glint wickedly.
You look away as the bus begins to trundle forward and the chatter of others builds. You avoid Jeff's gaze and fumble into your bag to check that you have everything. All your books, your pencil case, your lunch money -
Your arm explodes and your eyes squeeze shut, unable to prevent a tear escaping. Unable to focus on anything but the ache in your dead arm you collapse involuntarily forward and clamp down tight on it. Your eyes open.
Above you, is Jeff's leering face.
"The money," he says just loud enough for you to hear over the din of students, "Hand it over."
~ If you give him the money, go to chapter
~ If you do something drastic like, oh, punch him in the face? Go to chapter
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