Entropy

XI - I Didn't Ask For This

After Miguel had left, Lyra ran into the nearest building, the Van Helsing Center for Performing Arts, for shelter from the impending sleet. The warmth of the building rushed up to meet her as she slipped inside into its open embrace. The smell of coffee beans from the coffee bar permeated the air. She was about to sit down in one of the sofas in the lounge when she noticed something: everyone was starting at her.

Oh.

She scooped up a forgotten magazine on the table and buried her head in it to hide her face. With the picture of a hovercar sale ad shoved up against her nose, she caught the fragments of poorly-veiled gossip.

"Ugh, it's that bitch. I wonder if her highness came down here to smirk at us lowly mortals? I heard she got an A last semester in advanced mechanics."

"Oh my God, I almost failed that class! Do you think she only got that grade 'cause she might've...Never mind." The voice broke away, laughing.

"Huh? Tell me!"

Lyra increased the grip on the magazine, pressing her nails so hard against the palm of her hand that a deep imprint formed. She was hoping that the pain would distract her. She couldn't leave now, it would be too awkward. Maybe they'll leave soon?

But it wasn't just two people who were gossiping about her.

"Did you see the way she corrected Professor Clarice last spring? I don't care if she was right, that just shows how arrogant she is, going against someone with a PHD like that."

"I know! That was what I was thinking too! I bet she's never had to go to a study group or even study. Lucky bitch."

That's not true...

Lyra's mind flashed to all those hours she spent in a small, crammed space in a corner of the library, feverishly going through her notes, flipping through all her textbooks and flashcards on her tablet, trying really hard to understand what she was reading. She couldn't ask anyone for help; she was too scared of this, of the scorn, of the smug look they gave her the first and last time she'd tried.

Cautiously, she peeked out from the corner of the magazine. People were looking up. At her? Or just in her direction? Wait, some people were turning their heads. They weren't actually starting at her then?

She didn't dare to take a look and see if those specific gossiping people were still there. But she didn't have to, as they suddenly decided to pass by really close so to make sure she'd hear them.

"Just because she skipped two grades, everyone thinks she's a little genius. Just saying, but the world would be better off if someone would just push her off the stairs to show her where her place is."

Laughter.

That's it.

She slammed the magazine down as she got up, rising to meet her offender's eyes. She instantly recognized the other guy. He was that sour brat who always gave her a look whenever she walked into class. She took a deep breath and made sure that each word was loaded with venom.

"You got a problem with me?"

Mr. Sour Patch Brat looked shocked for a moment. What's wrong? Was that statement too basic for him?

He scrambled for something to respond with. "Y-yeah, I do. I think that you're a self-absorbed little prick." Now that he'd started, his rant snowballed as he gained the courage to let loose every bit of resentment that he'd been storing away. "Like some of us have to struggle in class, you know? It's just disgusting how you must breeze through classes like they're nothing. Why do you even show up to class, to watch us get roasted by the professors for fun?"

She flatly replied. "Why would anyone want to roast you? The smelly toxic fumes you'd give off would kill us all."

"W-what?! You know what I mean-"

"Besides," she leaned in so that she could see the growing nervousness in his pupils. In a low voice, she growled, "Who's the arrogant one here, acting like you know everything about me when you don't know shit. Maybe that's why your grades are as crappy as your attitude."

She could almost see his eyebrows singe from that burn. Turning her heel, she briskly left before he could respond, or else she'd have to come up with a better comeback. There was still sleet outside, but she couldn't turn back now. She felt the gazes of the other people in the room, watching her leave.  

If she had to be honest, it felt great being able to shut down Mr. Sour Patch Brat back there. She'd felt a small high when she avenged herself and crushed his ego. He had it coming. She always felt an almost addictive high when she took pea-brained neanderthals down in a battle of words and intimidation. Who did they think they were, anyway? But that high didn't last for long because in the end, it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth the pain and anger that made her speak up  in the first place.

She tried to pull her coat collar over her head to create a small cover from the sleet. It wasn't very effective. She was soon soaked and shivering.

"But if I was really being honest..."

She snuck a quick glance back into the building. The guy she'd just insulted pushed his friends away and ran off in another direction, in humiliation. Her glaring eyes softened, and she turned away.

"I didn't ask for this."