"Sir," he began, his voice quiet, almost a whisper.
‘I hate how weak I sound,’ he thought.
"They poured juice on me."
He could feel the wetness spreading; it felt disgusting, so weird, and made him want to gag.
Mr. Davies looked at the back of Nox’s shirt, then at the smirking faces in the rows behind him. Lex even made a show of wiping imaginary tears from his eyes, the bastard. Then, Mr. Davies actually chuckled.
It was a small sound, barely there, but Nox heard it.
‘He’s just like them huh,’ Nox realized.
"Oh, come on, Nox," the teacher said, a dismissive smile on his face.
"A little juice isn't the end of the world. Try to have a sense of humor about these things."
The classroom exploded with laughter, louder this time, totally unrestrained.
All that mockery just washed over him.
His teacher. Even his teacher thought it was funny. This was after all the times Nox had told him, begged him for help.
He looked at their laughing faces, one by one.
Lex was still making those pig-like snorting sounds, and Marla was dabbing at her eye like she’d heard the funniest joke in the world. And Mr. Davies was just shaking his head slightly, that same stupid smile on his face, as if Nox were the most ridiculous, oversensitive kid on the planet.
In that moment, hearing all those laughs, something in him finally, completely, just snapped. That last little piece of him holding things together, the one that had been wearing thin for years, just broke.
Suddenly, everything was so clear, clearer than anything had ever been.
No one was going to help him.
No one ever had, and no one ever would.
So if he wanted this to stop, if he wanted the pain and the humiliation to finally end, he was the only one who could do it.
Only him. It had to be him.
So he reached down, his hand moving slowly, very deliberately, toward his worn school bag on the floor beside his desk.