Page 44 of The Revenge Game

“Well, initially, it was just for a drink. But then it turned into dinner.”

Leo’s eyebrows don’t dip from their lofty heights. “But still, you accepted a drink invitation from him?”

“I figure keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But he’s not exactly making it easy to hate him.” I let out a frustrated breath. “He still doesn’t recognize me.”

I cling to that fact for my justification of what I’m doing.

Because it’s so difficult to cope with the fact I was so unimportant to him that he doesn’t even remember me. He was the center of my universe back then. He could make or break my day with just one look.

“Do you think something happened to him that made him act like he did in high school?”

My eyes fly to his. “You don’t buy that bullshit about bullies being victims themselves, do you?”

“I’m fairly certain research shows that most kids who bully feel powerless in other areas of their lives.”

I let out a harsh laugh. “Right. You’re telling me the guy whose name is carved into the Wall of Fame in the gym lobby was powerless? The one who got standing ovations just for walking into pep rallies? Even the principal used to high-five him in the hallways.”

Leo shrugs. “I don’t know. It may be something to consider. I know you, Andrew. You focus so much on your goal that you tend to blot out everything else. It might be worth thinking more about what Justin did to you in high school and the reasons behind it.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m always thinking about what Justin and his friends did to me in high school,” I say.

I don’t want to mention to Leo how this whole thing with Justin has made those high school memories feel closer to the surface than they have in years. Like when I hear certain types of laughter in the break room, and suddenly, I’m sixteen again, trying to make myself invisible. Or how sometimes when I’m in the sales department, I catch myself scanning the room for the nearest exit.

I need to turn this conversation around to Leo and his own revenge plans.

“Anyway, what does research say about guys who steal ideas from colleagues and pretend they’re their own? Do you think Vaughn did that because of a traumatized childhood?”

“No, I think he did it because he’s an asshole,” Leo says.

“Which is why you should definitely think about some sort of payback,” I say.

“That’s my thinking,” Leo agrees.

We eventually leave Trafalgar Square. As we wander the street toward the Thames, I tell Leo about some of the pranks I’ve pulled on Justin so far.

“These are small-scale compared to some of the stunts you could pull,” Leo comments.

“I know. But I don’t want to actually ruin the guy. I don’t want to be as bad as he was to me.”

“And he has no idea it’s you?”

“No. I’m fairly sure he doesn’t suspect a thing.”

Leo studies me carefully. “Regardless of how low-key you’re keeping the pranks, you’re still playing a dangerous game here. Just make sure you’ve thought through all the possible outcomes.”

Later that night, as Leo’s snoring from a blow-up mattress in my living room, I can’t get our conversation out of my head.

The thought of Justin being bullied in high school sits uneasily inside me.

In all the preparation and research I did for my revenge project, I never thought to look into the reasons why people bully others.

I get out my laptop and do some Googling.

The research from longitudinal studies is clear. Kids who bully usually fall into two groups. About a third are pure bullies—popular kids with social power who’ve never been victimized themselves. But the majority are bully victims—kids who are bullied or abused in one context and then bully others to cope.

I lean back from my laptop.

I naturally want to slot Justin into the first group because “popular kid with social power” was pretty much the definition of Justin in high school.