I bolted down the hallway like my life depended on it.
Maybe it didn't.
But my pride? Yeah, that was hanging by a thread.
Behind me, I could hear the thunder of his footsteps pounding after me, along with the occasional, furious shout of—
"Get back here, you coward!"
Coward?
Excuse me. Cowards hide in closets or fake an illness to skip confrontation.
I was executing a well-calculated, strategic withdrawal.
Big difference.
I skidded around a corner, narrowly dodging a group of unsuspecting first-years. A few of them yelped; one kid dropped their lunch tray with a dramatic crash.
Sorry, buddy. It's every man for himself in times of war.
I didn't even know where I was headed—maybe the library, maybe the rooftop, maybe the nearest faculty office. Wherever fate would take me. As long as it wasn't within arm's reach of Mr. Testosterone Tantrum.
"You think you can run forever?!"
I didn't answer.
Partly because I didn't want to.
