Chapter 435 Bootlickers Don’t Win Battles
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Theresa barely bothered to lift her head at the voice. Anky teen, probably around sixteen or seventeen and standing about five–ten, faced her with shoulders. squared, as if he were ready to deliver justice.
“You are?” she asked, voice t.
Nixon answered, “I’m Margaret’s best friend. You owe her an apology.”
Theresa stared for a beat. “Right.”
Beside her, Quentin let out a low chuckle, eyes narrowing like a cat about to toy with a mouse. “Kid, do you realize who you’re talking to?”
“I don’t care who you are! If you did something wrong, you apologize!” Nixon’s voice rang with the confidence of someone who thought the world worked like a school rulebook.
Quentin’s smirk deepened. “What are you, her guard dog or something?”
“What?” Nixon blinked, caught off guard. “How do you know?”
“Easy. You’ve got ‘bootlicker‘ written all over you.” Quentin’sugh was shameless.
Nixon’s cheeks flushed red. “You’re insulting me!”
“That wasn’t an insult, kid. That was a life tip.” Quentin leaned back casually. “Never be a bootlicker. Women don’t fall for guys who grovel; they go for charm. Stick your neck out too much, they won’t thank you–they’ll just think you’re a sucker.”
He even threw in a wink.
Nixon’s fists clenched tightly. “You’re full of crap! Margaret’s nothing like that! You owe her an apology!”
Theresa cut in, her tone turning sharp. “Apology? You got the muscle to make me, or the brains to talk me into it?”
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “If you’ve got neither, you’re just standing here wasting oxygen. Or maybe you’re like Margaret, thinking a nice face makes people
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Chapter <b>435 </b>Bootlickers Don’t Win Battles
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give way. Here’s a reality check–outside your little clique, it’s about strength.
“y big boss in your own yground. Out here, no strength means no say. So, either bring something to the table or get lost.”
The words hit harder than Nixon expected.
His chest burned. Powerless? Just a pretty <i>face</i><i>? </i>She <i>really </i><i>said </i><i>that </i>in <i>front </i><i>of </i><i>everyone</i>? <i>Unbelievable</i><i>. </i>Who does she think she is?
“I’ll fight you!” he blurted, fury boiling over.
“Stop!” A stocky middle–aged man darted in from behind, grabbing him by the
arms.
“Let me go! I’ll kill her!” Nixon thrashed like a fish on a line.
Hot–headed teenagers–always ready to die for their pride.
“Heh, what’s wrong? Can’t even get past your teacher?” Theresa’s smirk was gasoline on a fire.
Barrett tightened his grip, silently begging, Please, <i>for </i><i>once</i><i>, </i><i>shut </i><i>your </i><i>mouth</i><i>. </i>Out loud, he barked, “What are you all standing there for? Get him out of here!”
Reece and the others rushed in, hauling the kid away while he kept kicking and swearing.
Sure enough, Margaret didn’t move an inch. She stayed behind the crowd, arms folded, eyes cold. “Useless.”
Barrett finally managed to calm Nixon down enough to drag him off. As they left, he threw Theresa a long, measured look. <i>I </i>know it. She’s <i>trouble</i>.
By the time the sky started to burn orange, it was past 5 p.m.. Barrett’s group had
eaten.
Nixon, still sulking, had been calmed by Barrett’s endless patience, though his face still showed the storm.
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Chapter 435 Bootlickers Don’t Win Battles
<b>+5 </b><b>Free </b><b>Coins </b>
Theresa had picked her way clean through the other side. No one managed to get the upper hand. She didn’t take losses or insults; anyone dumb enough to push her twice got knocked t.
A sound pierced the air–a deep, metallic chime. It was not just a buzzer, but an actual bell.
Barrett shot to his feet. “It’sing.”
Theresa was already ready.
From the rooftop, she spotted them–zombies beginning to shuffle into view below as the bell’s echo faded.
She tightened the straps on her gear, gave her de a final check, and headed for the rooftop door with Quentin right behind her.
Halfway down, Barrett’s voice caught her. “Uh… we’d like toe with you.”
It wasn’t a throwaway line. He’d been chewing on that decision all day.
Their supplies were dwindling quickly, and remaining at the school any longer would be disastrous.
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Chapter 436 The Road’s Not Hers