Bully Fakeout

Moffat figured out where things were going, and she tried to head it off. “I’m sure he hasn’t stolen from his grandmother. Stop antagonizing him and go back to class.”

“Oh, yeah? What about those gloves? I heard him telling someone they were from his grandmother.” Royke snatched Karr’s glove out of the teacher’s hand and flapped it around.

Karr’s heart began to race. The gloves were a gift from his grandmother. Something special she had made him. Without them he felt exposed. And angry. Angry at Royke. Angry at Moffat for being so careless.

Moffat’s eyes met his with a look of both irritation and apology. “Give that back to him, right now.”

But Royke wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he had an audience to entertain. He danced around the hall, singing “Look at me! I’m Karr!” as he waved the glove just out of its rightful owner’s reach. Then the unthinkable happened: Royke jammed his greasy, pudgy fingers into the glove.

“Give it back!” Karr hollered.

“What are you gonna do? You’re not a real Jedi!” He worked his hand deeper inside the glove.

“Oh, yeah?” Without even thinking, Karr stretched his arm out and used an open hand to grasp the air as if it was Royke’s throat. He poured all his anger, all his grief, and all his concentration into the gesture.

The bully’s laughing stopped. Then his breathing stopped. His eyes bulged from his head and he dropped to his knees, struggling to inhale whatever air he could into his quickly closing lungs.

[...]

Moffat yelled at Karr. “Stop that! Whatever you’re doing, stop it—right this instant!”

He lowered his hand, but Royke continued to gasp and wheeze.

The teacher jumped between them and grabbed Karr by the shoulders. She shoved his arm against his side. “What are you doing to him?” she demanded, loud and scared and ready to shake him to pieces.

Royke dropped to his knees and fell forward face-first. All four of his long, beefy arms splatted to the floor, splaying in every direction.

Everything went quiet.

The scattered students who lingered in the hallway stood wide-eyed; they held their hands over their mouths and didn’t say a word. No announcements blared from the headmaster’s office. No doors opened, no datapads beeped inside backpacks, and none of the bully’s friends so much as breathed.

Until Royke’s big body started to shake. He was laughing quietly.

He worked his way up to a belly laugh as he rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. He pounded all four fists on the floor with glee.

At first, no one joined him. Then everyone did.

“Ha!” the bully cackled above the laughing crowd. “You totally thought you had Jedi powers!”

Moffat’s face turned red.

Karr’s turned even redder. “You just wait until—”

“Enough!” declared the teacher. She snatched Karr’s glove from Royke and handed it back to Karr, but her expression remained stern. “Both of you, go to the headmaster’s office!”

Side by side, Karr and the bully skulked toward the office, neither one speaking or trying to make eye contact. When they finally arrived, the door was closed. After a few minutes it opened and a hand waved Royke inside—leaving Karr to take a seat and await his fate.


- Force Collector, Chapters 1 and 2