The Villains Must Win-Chapter 122: Reid Graves 2

"Did she seriously go against Stacey? Like, The Stacey Evans? The Queen?"

"No way."

"Dude, I’m telling you, Tabby Chubby went ballistic! She slammed Stacey’s head into the locker like it was a freaking WWE match!"

"Nah, you’re making that up."

"I swear! If I hadn’t seen the video, I wouldn’t have believed it either!"

"Wait, there’s a video?!"

By now, Tabitha’s classroom was buzzing with whispered gossip, excited murmurs, and the occasional re-enactment of what was quickly becoming The Incident of the Year.

Some kids even acted it out dramatically, one person pretending to be Tabitha while another faked getting their head smashed into a wall.

Tabitha, meanwhile, was walking through the chaos like a celebrity who had just accidentally leaked their own scandal. She could hear the ridiculous exaggerations swirling around her.

"I heard she lifted Stacey with one hand!"

"No, no, she roundhouse-kicked the locker first to scare her!"

"My cousin’s friend’s brother saw it happen—he said Stacey almost cried!"

Tabitha rolled her eyes. Of course, people had taken what really happened and cranked it up to the level of an action movie. All she did was slam her fist near Stacey’s head—not her actual head, for crying out loud.

But hey, if people wanted to think she was some kind of unstoppable beast . . . who was she to correct them?

That was exactly what she wanted—to make sure no one ever bullied her again. Not in the past, not in the present, and definitely not in the future.

Tabitha barely had time to sit down before a group of her classmates swaggered up to her desk, reeking of entitlement and cheap body spray. The leader of the pack, a guy named Brandon who peaked in middle school, crossed his arms with a smug grin. Everyone knew that he likes Stacey so he was the first to confront Tabitha.

"So, you think you’re some kind of badass now, huh, Tabby Chubby?" he sneered, his minions snickering behind him.

Tabitha exhaled through her nose, already exhausted. "Brandon, if I had a dollar for every brain cell you lost trying to insult me, I’d be rich enough to transfer schools."

His smile wavered. "Oh, ha ha. Funny. You think you’re scary now just ’cause you threw a tantrum?"

Tabitha tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Oh, I’m terrifying, Brandon. You know why? ’Cause I have nothing to lose. You? You still think varsity basketball is gonna get you into college."

The group behind him burst into laughter. "Damn, bro, she got you," one of them muttered.

Brandon turned red. "Pfft, whatever. You still look like a—"

Tabitha leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "A what? An ugly pig? An oversize bulldozer? Say something creative, Brandon. Just once in your life, please."

He opened and closed his mouth like a confused goldfish out of water before scoffing. "Forget it. You’re not even worth it."

"Right," Tabitha nodded, smirking. "Run along now. GPA’s not gonna fail itself."

Brandon huffed and stormed off, his friends scrambling after him, barely hiding their laughter.

Tabitha sighed and stretched. "That was almost too easy."

From the corner of her eye, she caught other students watching her, whispering. The girl they once thought was invisible was suddenly someone you did not want to mess with.

She grinned to herself. freewebnoveℓ.com

Maybe high school wasn’t gonna be so bad after all, as long as she was the one doing the bullying.

The next wave of haters came in the form of three girls, all dressed in cropped hoodies and yoga pants, strutting toward Tabitha’s desk with the confidence of background characters who thought they had main character energy. Their ringleader, Kayla, twirled her bleached ponytail and smirked.

"Omg, so like, what was that back there?" she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You think you’re scary now just ’cause you threw a little fit? That’s actually so sad."

Her friends giggled, tossing each other looks like they had just delivered the burn of the century.

Tabitha slowly stood up.

The moment she rose to her full height, a shadow fell over them.

Kayla’s smirk twitched.

Tabitha wasn’t just tall—she was towering. And now that she wasn’t slouching, it became painfully obvious how much bigger and stronger she was compared to them. The way she cracked her knuckles made it sound like the gates of hell were about to open.

"Oh my god," one of the girls whispered. "Her hands are huge."

Tabitha flexed her fingers and stared at her own fist in mock surprise. "Huh. You’re right. These could probably punch through walls." She looked back down at them, eyes glinting. "Or, I dunno . . . tiny little skulls."

Kayla stepped back instinctively before catching herself. "Ugh, whatever. You wouldn’t actually—"

BAM!

Tabitha swung a fist toward a furniture beside them, stopping just short of impact—but the force of it alone made a loud whoosh in the air.

The girls shrieked.

One of them grabbed Kayla’s sleeve. "Kay, I think we should—"

"We were just kidding!" Kayla blurted, her voice cracking. "Like, totally joking! Haha! You’re so funny, Tabitha!"

Tabitha tilted her head, giving them a slow, assessing look.

Then, she took a small step forward.

The girls bolted.

"What’s her problem?"

"Freak!"

Good thing Tabitha was tall and chubby. Because the moment she got her confidence back, she could be as menacing as she wanted—and people would naturally be afraid and step aside.

The whispers and gossip had been endless, but they stopped the moment the teacher walked in. Order was restored, and the class resumed its usual routine.

At least, for a whole ten minutes.

Then, with a loud BANG, the classroom door was shoved open so hard it nearly unhinged.

Roman and his entourage strode in like they owned the place.

Tabitha barely had to glance up to know—yep, that was definitely the male lead.

Roman had the kind of face that belonged on posters, the kind that made teenage girls lose their common sense. Even as a high schooler, he was tall and lean, his jet-black hair effortlessly tousled, his sharp blue eyes filled with mischief. His golden tan suggested he played a sport—probably something unnecessarily heroic, like soccer or basketball. His features were still a little youthful, but there was no denying that he was ridiculously handsome, the kind of handsome that made bad decisions look like a great idea.

Dressed in an ever-classic black denim jacket, a fitted white tee, and those signature bad-boy ripped jeans, he exuded "main character energy" so hard it was almost laughable.

And yet, the first thing out of his mouth was—

"You! Fatty!"

He jabbed a finger at Tabitha like he was casting some sort of medieval curse.

"Get over here. Right now."

Like a bunch of startled rodents, the class immediately shrank into their seats, their eyes darting between Roman and Tabitha.

The whispers returned, now sharper, meaner.

"Oh no. Fatty’s in trouble now."

"That’s what she gets for pretending to be tough."

"She shouldn’t have done that to Stacey."

"She deserves it."

Tabitha rolled her eyes. These people were so predictable. What could you expect in a school full of teenagers?

"Roman, we’re in the middle of class," the teacher said, voice laced with forced patience.

Roman barely spared her a glance before flashing his signature grin. "And? What are you gonna do about it?"

The teacher’s expression soured, but she didn’t push back. Tabitha knew why. Roman’s father sat on the school’s board of directors. Translation: Untouchable.

Roman turned back to her, growing impatient. "Come here, fatty, or I’ll drag you out myself."

Now, Roman and his goons clearly expected her to fold like a cheap lawn chair. To start trembling, stammering, and shrinking under his gaze like she was supposed to.

But Tabitha?

She just smacked her lips together, stretched her shoulders, and stood up—unhurried, casual, like she had all the time in the world.

The room held its breath.

Roman’s grin twitched, just slightly. He had expected a cowering chicken, and instead, he was getting a lion strolling toward him.

Tabitha took her time, each step deliberate. The confidence in her posture was undeniable, her head held high, her shoulders squared. She owned the space she walked in, and for the first time, Roman really saw her.

Yeah, she was tall. Yeah, she was chubby.

But suddenly, those weren’t weaknesses.

Her build wasn’t stiff—it was soft. Her height wasn’t awkward—it was intimidating. The way she moved wasn’t hesitant—it was commanding.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, an unfamiliar thought crept in.

Why does she look . . . kinda hot? Like he wanted to pinch that soft, squishy flesh—yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to rest his head on her lap. Or how warm and plush she’d be if he pulled her into a hug.

Roman shook it off. No, no, no. That wasn’t the point. The point was—she wasn’t acting the way she was supposed to around him.

And that?

That was messing with him.