The Villains Must Win-Chapter 130: Reid Graves 10

It turned out that being locked inside the library wasn’t a huge deal—they even had a sofa lounge where they crashed for the night.

By morning, the janitor unlocked the door, and Tabitha and Reid strolled out like it was just another part of their routine, heading to the cafeteria for breakfast.

"Yo, locked up here again, Reid?" the janitor asked casually, leaning on his mop.

"Yeah," Reid replied with a shrug, clearly unfazed.

Tabitha fixed the janitor with a look that balanced playful menace and exasperated humor. "Hey, mister, aren’t you supposed to be our alarm clock and chauffeur, not our jailer? You locked us in like we’re contestants on some twisted reality show. If your laziness gets us into trouble, I’ll be chasing you down so hard you’ll wish you’d taken up sprinting. And trust me, you’d better start practicing those running shoes, because I’m not known for my patience when it comes to incompetent janitors!"

"Enough, Tabitha, he didn’t do it," Reid said calmly.

Tabitha raised an eyebrow. "What? How do you know that?"

Reid adjusted his glasses and said, "According to the schedule, Mr. Charlson works only on Mondays and Fridays. Since today is Friday, he wasn’t on duty yesterday—so the odds of him being responsible are effectively zero."

Tabitha’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she scrambled for the right words. "I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Charlson," she blurted out, practically bowing in an exaggerated gesture that made it seem as though she were about to kiss his shoes in a fit of contrition. Her apology tumbled out in a flurry of frantic words, each one more desperate than the last. "I had no idea—I mean, I was completely mistaken about your schedule. But who work only on a Monday and Friday?"

The old janitor regarded her with his usual deadpan stare. Tabitha’s awkwardness only deepened as she continued, her tone both sincere and hilariously overdone. "I really hope you can accept my apologies. I—uh, I would literally mop the entire library if that helps?"

Plus I would have a perfect excuse not to attend math lessons, Tabitha mused to herself.

For a long moment, silence reigned. Then, as if the absurdity of her statement had defused the tension entirely, she burst into a nervous laugh. The janitor simply shook his head and offered a small, almost imperceptible smile, leaving Tabitha to wonder if she’d managed to apologize or just provide him with the oddest compliment of his career.

"You two, get on your way, and don’t rub me off my job, young lady," the janitor said as he resumed mopping the library floor.

"Ahahaha, you got it," Tabitha replied. With a conspiratorial glance exchanged between her and Reid, they headed to the cafeteria.

Inside, they found a table among a few other early risers and settled in for breakfast. "Good thing I have some spare clothes in my locker," Tabitha remarked with a half-grin as she casually sniffed herself. "At least no one suspects I haven’t bathed."

Reid leaned forward. "Actually, there’s a fascinating scientific explanation for your signature aroma," he began, adjusting his glasses with deliberate precision. "Your skin’s pH and its unique microbiome produce a blend of volatile compounds—essentially an olfactory fingerprint. In other words, you’re wearing your own personal cologne, whether you like it or not."

Tabitha rolled her eyes, laughing. "Oh, really? So I’m basically a walking experiment in ’Eau de I Haven’t Showered’? That’s a bold brand, genius."

Reid chuckled. "Exactly. In a world obsessed with sterile, overrated perfumes, your scent is refreshingly . . . authentic."

"Is that your genius way of saying I stink?" Tabitha teased.

Reid chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "Not exactly," he began in his trademark measured tone. "It’s more that every person has a unique olfactory signature—a sort of personal cologne generated by your skin’s pH and the bacteria that live on you. In your case, what some might call ’stink’ is actually a fascinating interplay of natural chemistry. It’s . . . avant-garde, really. Think of it as a living experiment in aroma that defies conventional perfume standards."

Tabitha raised an eyebrow. "So you’re saying I smell like a scientific breakthrough?"

"Precisely," Reid replied, his eyes twinkling. "While others rely on store-bought scents, you’re out here creating your own signature blend. It’s unique, it’s memorable, and—if I’m being honest—it’s a bit revolutionary."

Tabitha laughed. "Reid, only you could turn a simple body odor into a groundbreaking discovery."

Reid grinned. "Well, when you’re busy analyzing the universe, even a little natural aroma becomes an experiment in progress."

Just then, a familiar voice called out, "Hey, nerd! How’s your night?"

Turning their heads, Tabitha and Reid spotted Ferdinan’s group—the notorious bullies who loved picking on the "weaker" ones, and apparently, Reid was high on that list. With Roman off chasing Gwendolyn, Ferdinan’s crew took over the school, their laughter echoing in the hallway.

"Fine, Ferdinan," Reid replied coolly, "I actually feel quite comfortably surrounded by books." His tone dripped with sarcasm, earning a round of mocking laughter from the group.

One of the bullies jibed, "I told you, we should’ve locked him in a toilet. He’d only feel right at home in a library!"

Tabitha’s nostrils flaring as she eyed the group. "Are those jerks the one who lock us in?" she asked, a mix of indignation and disbelief coloring her voice.

Reid shot her a calm look. "It’s not a big deal, Tabitha."

"It is a big deal," she retorted firmly. "Now that I’m your friend, no one’s going to get away with bullying you."

Reid shook his head as he continued to eat. "You’re only going to make it worse. Statistically speaking, the more you defend me, the more likely I am to become the prime target of their ridicule."

Tabitha rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, come on, genius. Sometimes a little stand-up comedy against bullies is exactly what the doctor ordered." ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Reid adjusted his glasses and continued, "I mean, consider the probability distribution here: if I maintain my current profile, the mean frequency of jabs and jeers from Ferdinan’s group will remain constant. Your intervention might shift the variance—but let’s face it, my expected value of public humiliation is already off the charts."

"And statistics say that if you don’t stand up against them, they’ll only keep bullying," Tabitha declared. In a flash, she was on her feet, striding confidently toward Ferdinan’s group.