Cole Rivers was like many boys his age. Simple.

    Football was his life. He merely went to class because it was required of him. He took advantage of the other students and cheated on his tests to keep an average grade. The teachers ignored these habits, knowing very well that Cole’s father, the coach, needed him on the team. Preventing the star player from participating was suicide in this small town.

    So, Cole lived his simple life in this simple town the same way every day. It seemed as if nothing would ever change.

    Until one day, it did.

    Cole was headed to his first period, dreading the near future of having to ignore the teacher’s lecture without his music. His father had agreed with the teacher that he needed to listen in class, even though his passing was guaranteed. It infuriated him.

    He made his way down the hallway, humming softly to himself as he rapped his knuckles along the lockers. It mattered not to him if he was late, it wouldn’t be the first time. He walked into the classroom and turned to enter his usual seat, when he saw someone else occupying it.

    A scrawny boy with thick glasses and a freckle-spattered face sat there, nose-deep in the textbook before him. Curly black hair covered his head, threatening to do the same to his eyes due to the length. It was nothing like Cole’s own short, orange-red hair.

   Before the teen could throw this puny twerp out of his desk, the teacher cleared her throat.

   “I believe your new seat is in the back, Mr. Rivers,” she said slowly, her voice harsh and nasal. “James has sight complications and has to have a seat closer to the front,” the woman paused, offering a smile that was all but pleasant. “I’m sure you will not have any trouble adjusting to this new seating arrangement.”

    Cole gritted his teeth, rage boiling inside him. “My father will hear about this,” he snarled, clenching his fists to his sides and storming back to his seat. As he made his way past the boy’s desk, he heard a soft voice.

   “Hi, Draco.” Amusement wavered in the tone.

    The teenager spun around, raising his fist as he prepared to put this boy in his place. “What did you say, you little rat?” Cole hissed, narrowing his blue eyes to vengeful slits.

   To his surprise, the male did not recoil. He did not shrivel up or break down in tears. He simply looked up at Cole with big brown eyes, giving a sheepish smile.

    “Draco Malfoy. You know, from Harry Potter?” He asked, seeming to expect a positive response from the bulky teen. “He says what you said all the time,” James explained, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

    Cole scoffed, his scowl turning into an amused smirk, but not for the right reason.

    “You mean those magic books?” He sneered, laughter bubbling up inside him. “What are you gonna do, witch? Turn me into a frog?” He made sure the ‘w’ sounded vaguely like a ‘b.’

    Chuckles and giggles erupted around him as the students watched the two. He crossed his arms confidently, satisfaction coursing through his veins. Even if the kid wasn’t afraid of him, public embarrassment was enough to put him in his place.

    “Mr. Rivers,” the teacher said, her tone hinting that this was his last warning. “Do I need to personally direct you to your seat?”

    Cole grinned in response, shaking his head. “No, ma’am, I can find it just fine.” With that, he hurried back to his seat, seeing no point in dealing with the woman any longer than he had to. Her voice was worse than nails on a chalkboard to him. It sounded as if her nose was permanently broken.

    Once seated, he fiddled idly with his pencil, glaring at the back of James’ head. The nerd was actually working on whatever assignment that sorry excuse for a teacher had given. Of course. No only did the boy read, but he enjoyed school as well.

    Cole huffed in slight annoyance. He spent the remainder of class brainstorming ways to make the teen’s life miserable. It irked him to no end that the boy wasn’t afraid of him. He had just sat there like Cole was nothing to fear, like he wasn’t capable of bashing his face in. Well, he’d show this punk just how terrifying he truly was.

    Perhaps if he worked hard enough, James would beg his parents to let him move back to wherever he had came from.

    Cole spent the days that followed forming his brilliant scheme. It would be all too easy. Unlike what most thought, Cole was very aware of the rumors that spread throughout the school. He was the one who planted cruel, tainted ideas in the young girls’ heads. He was the one who put up false Facebook pages and fake accounts to mock other students. Cole was the one who was behind everything, and not a soul knew.

    He had to be stealthy about this. No one could know it was him. No one could see. If anyone found out, his reputation would be destroyed.

    To start the expulsion of the scrawny menace that called himself James, Cole would “influence” the rumors. Derogatory language and images implying the male’s sexuality would be plastered over his locker for all to see. It wouldn’t take more than a day for the idea to spread throughout the school.

    Now, the only problem was not being caught.

    The school was very secure, and that comforted Cole dearly- however, it was very irksome in situations like these. Cameras were in every hallway. He would have to angle himself so that his face would not be seen by them. And, it would have to be at night.

    Breaking into the school would be no simple matter. In fact, it was borderline impossible. Which is why he wouldn’t break into the school. He would break out.

    That afternoon, Cole hid away in the locker room, knowing where the janitor never bothered to go.

    He wore a black hoodie, the hood pulled so that a shadow cast over what could be seen of his face, and a pair of black gloves. If the camera couldn’t even see his skin color, then they had no chance of narrowing down his identity. Any guy had access to the locker room with the right excuse. His plan was flawless.

    Once the clock struck six o’clock, he knew it was time. All of the teachers would be gone by now, and the janitors would have left or stowed away in the teacher’s work room for a “break.” Cole shifted, standing carefully and leaning on the wall as he waited for the feeling to return to his legs. After the pins and needles sensation disappeared, he crept out of the room.

    His gaze scanned the hall ceiling cautiously as he mentally counted the cameras down the long stretch. One...two...three. Three in total. Fantastic.

    A brief sigh slipped from Cole’s lips. Locker 127 was on the opposite end of the hall.

    He gripped the straps of the trash bag and leaned against the wall, keeping his head down as he walked. Paranoia bit at his heels as he imagined the cameras’ watchful eyes following his every movement. It wasn’t guilt that gave him this sensation, but fear.

    As he got closer to 127, he realized his fatal error. The lockers on one side were all odds, and all even on the other. His stomach sank as he stared at locker 128.

    Cole grimaced briefly and turned so his back was to the cameras, stepping to his side until he came to the correct locker. He couldn’t afford to make any more silly mistakes like this. They could cost him everything.

    He set the bag down and began digging through it, chewing his lower lip. This was it. There was no going back.

    He couldn’t understand why this was freaking him out so much. He had done this kind of thing countless times. How was this loser any different from the others?

    He pulled the sheets of paper from the bag and began taping them all over the cool, green metal. A smirk twitched on Cole’s lips. Oh how he longed to see James’ face when he saw this, but that would only bring suspicion onto himself. He had to pretend he had nothing to do with this.

    A few more minutes passed and Cole was done. He stood, crumpled up the trash bag, and disposed it in the nearest trash can. No evidence. None.

    He turned down the hallway, headed for the one door in the building that wouldn’t go off. It had broken several years earlier, disconnecting from the alarm. They never called someone to fix it, the door was just left there, useless to all. No one could actually get in through the door because of the lock malfunctioning, however, leaving was very easy.

   Cole rest his hand on the door and pushed it open, stepping out into the nearly frigid autumn air. It was always so cold this time of year.

   He tightened the strings of his hood to block some of the wind and hurried down the street. Always the one to think things through, he had parked far away from a street light.

   As he climbed in the car, he almost felt sympathy towards the kid. His life was over now. He would be the joke of the school. Cole frowned and shook the thoughts away, pulling out of the parking lot. He deserves it, the teen told himself. I’m in the right.