KICKED LIKE A DOG, RETURNED LIKE A HIDDEN HEIR

Sabotaged

Chapter Two: 

Paxton Jennings slammed his locker shut with unnecessary force, the metallic clang echoing through the empty hallway. His jaw clenched as he replayed yesterday's humiliation on the practice field. Selena's intervention had left him looking like a fool in front of his teammates, and the thought gnawed at him like a parasite.

"Dude, you look like someone pissed in your protein shake," Jake Morrison said, leaning against the adjacent locker. "Still mad about yesterday?"

"That little rat made me look weak in front of Selena," Paxton growled, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his gym bag. "She's supposed to be mine, not playing savior to some worthless charity case."

Marcus Williams chuckled darkly. "So what's the plan? We can't exactly go after princess Selena."

"No," Paxton said slowly, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "But we can make sure her little pet doesn't show up to her party. Without him there to play the victim, she'll forget all about her white knight complex."

"What do you have in mind?" Jake asked, his eyes lighting up with anticipation.

"Simple," Paxton replied. "We make sure poverty boy knows exactly where he belongs. And it's not at Selena's birthday party."

Alexander clutched the small wrapped package against his chest as he navigated through Winston College's crowded hallways. Inside the carefully chosen paper was a vintage jazz record—Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue"—the same album Selena had mentioned her late father used to play on lazy Sunday mornings. It had cost him nearly every penny he had, money scraped together from weeks of skipping lunch and walking home instead of taking the bus.

His fingers traced the edges of the package nervously. It wasn't much, especially compared to what Selena's other friends would probably bring, but it was personal, meaningful. At least, he hoped it would be.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

Alexander's blood turned to ice. Paxton's voice carried that familiar predatory tone that meant trouble. He turned to find the quarterback blocking his path, flanked by Jake and Marcus like a pack of hyenas closing in on wounded prey.

"What do we have here?" Paxton's eyes fixed on the wrapped package with laser focus. "Don't tell me you actually think you're going to Selena's party."

"Leave me alone, Paxton," Alexander said quietly, trying to step around them. But Jake moved to block his escape route while Marcus closed in from the other side.

"Aw, look at him," Marcus cooed mockingly. "The little mouse thinks he can scurry past us. What's in the package, rodent?"

"It's none of your business," Alexander replied, clutching the gift tighter.

"Everything about you is my business," Paxton snarled, lunging forward and snatching the package from Alexander's hands before he could react. "Especially when it involves my girl."

"She's not your girl!" The words burst out of Alexander before he could stop them.

The hallway fell silent. Even the other students seemed to sense the danger crackling in the air and gave them a wide berth.

"What did you just say?" Paxton's voice was deadly quiet.

"I said she's not—"

Jake's fist connected with Alexander's stomach before he could finish the sentence. Alexander doubled over, gasping for air as pain exploded through his midsection.

"You insignificant little worm," Paxton hissed, beginning to unwrap the package with deliberate slowness. "You actually think someone like Selena would choose a bottom-feeder like you over me?"

Alexander watched helplessly as the wrapping paper fell away, revealing the record inside.

"Oh, this is rich!" Paxton held up the album, examining it with exaggerated interest. "A dusty old record? This is what you think will impress Selena? What did this cost you, your lunch money for the next decade?"

"It was her father's favorite—" Alexander wheezed, still trying to catch his breath.

"Her father's favorite?" Marcus burst into laughter. "Dude, her dad's been dead for years! You think giving her some moldy old music is gonna bring daddy back from the grave?"

"That's just pathetic," Jake added, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "Even for you, that's a new low. What's next, gonna dig up his corpse and gift-wrap that too?"

Tears of rage and humiliation burned at the corners of Alexander's eyes. "Give it back."

"Give it back?" Paxton repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. "Oh, I don't think so. See, I'm doing you a favor here. Imagine how embarrassed Selena would be, having to smile and pretend she likes this garbage while all her real friends are watching."

"You're like a mangy stray dog," Marcus chimed in, circling Alexander like a predator. "Bringing dead things to people's doorsteps thinking they'll love you for it."

"At least dogs are loyal," Jake corrected. "This one's more like a tick. Sucking the life out of everything he touches."

Paxton held the record up high, just out of Alexander's reach. "You know what I think? I think this belongs in the trash, just like you."

"No!" Alexander lunged desperately for the album, but Marcus caught him and shoved him back hard. He stumbled and fell, his backpack spilling open across the hallway floor.

"Ooh, what else does the little beggar have?" Jake dove for the scattered contents, pulling out Alexander's worn wallet. "Let's see... five dollars and... wow, that's it. Five whole dollars."

"Five dollars?" Paxton laughed incredulously. "That's your entire fortune? I spend more than that on a single energy drink!"

"Please," Alexander whispered from the floor, his voice breaking. "That's all I have."

"All you have?" Marcus grabbed the bills from Jake's hand, waving them mockingly. "This isn't even enough to buy a decent card, let alone an actual present!"

"You're like a homeless pigeon," Jake sneered, "picking up crumbs and thinking you've found treasure."

"Give me my money back," Alexander pleaded, struggling to his feet.

"Your money?" Paxton pocketed the cash with theatrical slowness. "I think you mean our money now. Consider it a lesson f*e."

"A lesson in knowing your place," Marcus added, grinding his heel into one of Alexander's scattered notebooks.

"And your place," Jake said, grabbing Alexander by the shirt and pulling him close, "is definitely not at Selena's party."

"Face it, charity case," Paxton said, tossing the record carelessly from hand to hand. "You don't belong in our world. You're a cockroach trying to sit at the king's table."

The vinyl slipped from his fingers—whether by accident or design, Alexander couldn't tell—and crashed to the floor with a sickening crack. The record split cleanly in half, the precious music inside destroyed forever.

"Oops," Paxton said with mock concern. "How clumsy of me. Guess you won't be giving Selena anything after all."

Alexander stared at the broken pieces, his heart shattering along with the vinyl. Weeks of saving, of sacrifice, destroyed in an instant.

"Look at him," Marcus laughed, pointing at Alexander's devastated expression. "He's gonna cry! The little baby is gonna cry!"

"Maybe his mommy can kiss it better," Jake added. "Oh wait, she's too busy with her 'customers' to care about her loser son."

"You know what the best part is?" Paxton leaned down, his voice low and vicious. "Even if you somehow scraped together enough courage to show up at Selena's party empty-handed, everyone would know. They'd all see you for what you really are—a pathetic parasite who doesn't belong."

The three of them walked away, their laughter echoing off the walls like the cries of hunting predators. Other students began to emerge from their hiding spots, whispering and pointing at Alexander .

As Alexander's hands shook while gathering the pieces of the shattered record, the sharp edges cutting into his fingers, he finally spoke aloud to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Damn it," he muttered, watching his blood drip onto the broken vinyl. "Why does this always happen to me?"