The Scholarship Boy Trying To Survive

The sun blazed high in the sky, scorching the already hot and dusty construction site on the edge of New York. Leonidas wiped the sweat from his brow, his hands rough and calloused from a day of hauling bricks and mixing cement. His muscles ached, but he pushed on, knowing he couldn’t afford to stop. His brother, Alex’s medical bills didn’t wait, and neither could he.

“Hey, Leonidas!” a sharp voice called out behind him. Leonidas turned to see Kyle, one of the senior workers, with a sneer plastered across his face. “You missed a spot,” he pointed to a section of the wall that was already perfectly clean.

Leonidas sighed. “That’s already done, Kyle.”

Kyle laughed, his friends joining in. “Don’t talk back, scholarship boy,” he mocked. “Just do what you’re told.”

Leonidas felt his cheeks flush with frustration, but he kept his head down, muttering, “Fine. I’ll get it.”

Kyle leaned in closer. “That’s right. Good boy.”

As Leonidas bent to pick up a shovel, he heard hushed laughter behind him. He turned just in time to see Kyle and his friends pulling a rope taut across the walkway behind him. Before he could react, his feet tangled in the rope, and he stumbled, falling hard to the ground, the shovel clattering beside him.

“Whoops!” Kyle exclaimed, laughing. “Watch your step, Leo.”

Leonidas groaned, rubbing his knee where it had hit the ground, pain shooting through his leg. He looked up just as Mr. Carver, the foreman, approached with a scowl.

“What the hell is going on here?” Mr. Carver demanded.

Kyle immediately put on a look of mock concern. “Sorry, boss. Leonidas tripped and nearly brought the whole stack down. Almost damaged the materials.”

Mr. Carver’s face darkened. “Is that true, Leonidas?”

Leonidas clenched his fists, feeling his blood boil. “No, sir, it’s not true. They—”

“Excuses!” Mr. Carver cut him off sharply. “You think I’m running a charity here? You’re on thin ice already, Leonidas.”

“No, sir, listen, they did this on purpose,” Leonidas argued, pointing at Kyle and his crew. “They set a rope—”

Kyle shook his head, feigning innocence. “Come on, Leo, don’t try to pin your clumsiness on us. Man up and admit you messed up.”

Mr. Carver looked back and forth between them, his brow furrowed. “Enough!” he barked. “I don’t have time for this. Leonidas, you better shape up or I’ll find someone who will!”

Leonidas swallowed hard, feeling his frustration rise. “But sir, I’m telling the truth. You can check the cameras—”

Mr. Carver paused, then sighed. “You know what? Fine. Kyle, you and your buddies, get back to work. If I find out you’re playing games, you’ll be the ones out on the street.”

Kyle’s smile faded for a moment. “Sure, boss, whatever you say.”

Mr. Carver turned and walked away, muttering under his breath. Leonidas shot a look at Kyle, who glared back, his face twisted with anger.

“You’re gonna regret that, Leo,” Kyle hissed. “Snitching on us to the boss? Big mistake.”

---

When the shift finally ended, Leonidas grabbed his bag and headed for the gate, hoping to make it out without more trouble. But as he passed by the storage shed, he felt a rough hand grab his arm and yank him back.

Kyle and his friends circled around him, their expressions dark and threatening.

“So, you think you’re smart, huh?” Kyle sneered. “Trying to make us look bad in front of the boss?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Leonidas said, trying to pull his arm free. “You’re the ones who—”

A punch landed hard on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Leonidas doubled over, gasping for breath. “Shut up!” Kyle shouted. “You don’t talk back to me, got it?”

Leonidas stumbled backward, trying to regain his footing. “Just leave me alone,” he muttered.

“Leave you alone?” one of the other workers laughed. “Not a chance. You need to learn your place, Leo.”

Another shove sent him crashing against the side of the shed. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and gritted his teeth, trying not to show weakness.

“Look at you,” Kyle taunted. “You think you’re better than us just because you go to that fancy school? Because you’re on some pity scholarship?”

Leonidas shook his head. “I never said that. I’m just trying to survive.”

Kyle smirked. “Yeah? Well, maybe you need a reminder of where you belong.” He shoved Leonidas again, and this time a fist connected with his jaw, sending him to the ground.

The world spun around Leonidas as he lay there, tasting blood in his mouth. He felt kicks land on his sides, his ribs, pain flaring with every blow.

“You’re nothing,” Kyle spat. “You hear me? Nothing!”

Leonidas curled into himself, trying to protect his head as the blows kept coming. His mind drifted to Alex, his little brother, lying in a hospital bed. He pictured Alex’s face, pale and fragile, his smile still somehow bright despite everything. For Alex, he told himself. For Alex, I can endure this.

Finally, the beating stopped. Leonidas lay still, breathing hard, every inch of his body aching. Kyle leaned down close to his face. “You say one word to anyone about this, and next time it’ll be worse. Got it?”

Leonidas nodded, too weak to speak. Kyle and his friends laughed and walked away, leaving him in the dirt like a piece of garbage.

---

Hours later, Leonidas limped down the streets of Sinclair Town, wearing the red-and-black uniform of Primo Pizza. His knee throbbed with every step, his face bruised, his body aching. But he couldn’t afford to miss his shift. He needed the money, no matter the cost.

He climbed onto his scooter, wincing as he straddled the seat, and checked his phone. An order blinked on the screen: “Delivery to Silver Gym.”

“Of course,” he muttered to himself, starting the engine and heading toward the gym. “Just another night.”

When he arrived, he stepped inside, looking for the customer. A tall, athletic guy with a confident smirk waved him over. “That’s me,” he said, snatching the pizza from Leonidas’ hands.

Leonidas nodded, barely looking at the guy. “Enjoy,” he mumbled, turning to leave.

Then, he heard it—a soft, familiar laugh. His heart skipped a beat. He knew that sound. He looked around, searching for the source, and spotted a corner of the gym where a small group had gathered.

He took a few steps closer, his eyes widening as he saw her. Emma, his girlfriend, leaning against the wall, her face lit up with a bright smile. And beside her, laughing and leaning in close, was Derek Moore—his number one bully from school.

“Emma?”