Classmate's Triumph and CEO's Regret

I turned to see Emery strutting from the school gates, his designer uniform pristine, his smirk dripping with arrogance.

Jack ruffled his hair. "Perfect timing, bud. This guy claims our car is his. What's your take?"

"I know his type," Emery scoffed, his tone too old for his years. "A kid in my class brags about being loaded but can't even afford a decent toy."

He sized me up like I was roadkill. "Mister, you know how much this car costs? My mom says it's worth a house. Look in the mirror and tell me you can afford it."

He jabbed a finger at my jacket. "Your whole outfit is cheaper than my sneakers, and you're saying our car is yours?"

"Total loser!" he jeered, sticking out his tongue. "My mom says people like you should stay out of sight. You're an eyesore."

Jack roared with laughter. "That's my boy. Scram, pal, before you make a bigger fool of yourself."

I stared at them, simmering with rage. Their family education was questionable. No normal kids talked like that.

Sophie got out of the car and ran to my side. Her voice was small and worried. "Dad, why aren't we going home?"

Emery's eyes gleamed with malice. "Well, well, isn't this the poor girl in my class?"

He sauntered over, blocking her path. "Heard your dad? Like father, like daughter. You're both full of it. Need a wake-up call."

He yanked a craft knife from his backpack. "Say sorry, or you know what happens."

Sophie stumbled back in fear, tripping and falling to the ground. Her sobs pierced the air.

I lunged to grab Emery's wrist, wrenching the knife from his grip. He wailed, "Ow! You're hurting me! Let go!"

I pocketed the knife and released him. He collapsed dramatically, shouting, "Dad, he stole my knife and hurt me!"

Jack stormed over, his face red with fury. "You dare touch my son, you filth?"

"He threatened my daughter with a knife," I said, holding up the blade.

He barely glanced at it, "It's just an art tool, you drama queen! Kids play with those."

The crowd piled on, their voices a chorus of blame.

"Kids mess around. Adults shouldn't interfere."

"If your daughter behaved, Emery wouldn't have pulled a knife."

"You started this."

"Look at her, bawling like that. Spoiled brat can't handle a little teasing."

"It's you and your kid's fault, plain and simple."

Jack crossed his arms. "Poor folks don't know the first thing about raising kids. No wonder she gets picked on."

I stared at their smug faces, their logic twisted like a pretzel. No matter what Emery did, Sophie and I were the villains.