Forget class, this jerk needs to learn a lesson.

You calmly stood up and dusted your skirt. A few students who saw you fall curiously observed at a distance. "Excuse me," you spoke in a polite voice, "but I think that it was you who ran into me." You gave him the most innocent look you could make. 

The boy furrowed his eyebrows as confusion flashed across his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. "Did you say something?" he faked a yawn, pretending he didn't hear you.

"You heard me the first time," you stated and crossed your arms. The boy froze for a moment. Then, he shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step toward you. He bent forward until you were at his eye level.

"Are you telling me that it's my fault?" he challenged with a hint of anger in his tone. The sudden raise of his voice attracted the attention of more students, and in no time, a small crowd encircled the two of you, whispering amongst themselves.

"Precisely," you remarked, unfazed by his growing enmity. Someone from the crowd whistled, causing the rest to laugh. The boy scoffed, incredulous of your audacity. "So are you going to apologize? I don't have all the time in my hands, you know," you continued.

"Why the hell should I apologize to you?" he spat. A male among the mass yelled "Fight!" and a few followed the chant. But before it could spread to the rest of the crowd, the bell rang. The students groaned and dragged their feet across the hallwa