Alice’s face was bright red – a melting pot of surprise, anger, pain and embarrassment. And call it weird, but I felt the same way she did. I think I have a strong sense of empathy when it comes to my friends. Say what you want about me and my temper, but it comes bursting out the most whenever someone I loved was aggrieved and done wrong by others. I’m very protective of those close to me – especially these three goofs who I consider more as family than friends. To hurt them was to hurt me, I stood firmly by this belief, no matter how much trouble it brings me.

I stood back and watched in disdain as a peacemaking Shane led a fuming Alice away from the apologetic ostrich. My friend might’ve been quick enough to brush aside the incident as something trivial and not worth getting stressed over, but no, not me. If you let even the smallest of sins pass, it will only give way to the perpetuation of bigger ones. I might not do something as drastic as giving this human bird a red tag, but I might as well do everyone a favor by giving her a warning – something to remind her just who ruled this place, so she’d watch her actions in the future.

“You should’ve known better than to leave your fucking things lying around.” I sidled up to her and sneered, my upper lip curling in contempt at the shaken bird girl. I cock my leg back and kick the obtrusive bag with all my might, making its contents spill out into the path like the insides of one of those vomiting drunken girls that we see every night outside our favorite haunts. “If Al had been hurt, I would’ve kicked you too.” I snarled near her ear, making her whimper and break out into petrified tears.

No guilt, no compassion. That’s the way to do it. With a condescending smirk on my lips, I turned and followed after Shane and Alice. I was still a little angry, but that kick managed to release some of my pent-up aggression. To my surprise, I let the crybaby freshman easily off the hook too; look, she’s still alive after all. Most days I would’ve taken out the spare red tag I always carried in my pocket, slapped it on her forehead and let the student body have their fun with her. Trouble with my temper, eh? That’d show that fucking guidance counselor that I know a thing or two about managing my own anger. I grinned smugly, proud of myself. “See that Sammy? Handled that pretty good, right?”