The bus's engine growled to life, its coughing exhaust cloud matching the collective mood of the students being hauled off on yet another "educational" field trip.
A student, Viktor sprawled in the back row, one foot propped on the seat in front of him, his bag a treasure chest of banned contraband.
Ms. Priscilla stood at the front like a prison warden with a clipboard. She slapped it against her palm for dramatic effect.
"Alright, LISTEN UP!"
The chatter dulled, but not because anyone respected her.
They just wanted to know what ridiculous rules she'd cooked up this time.
"Rule one: no snacks!" she barked. "If I catch a single candy wrapper, I'll confiscate it AND make you watch me eat it in front of you!"
Viktor rolled his eyes and patted his bag. 'Good luck confiscating the Twix in my pocket, Prissy. You'd have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands.'
"No electronic devices!" she continued, glaring. "This is a learning experience, not an opportunity to post thirst traps or—God forbid—play those stupid video games you're all obsessed with!"
'Thirst traps? Imagine thinking anyone on this bus looks good enough for that.' Viktor glanced at the guy across from him who was picking his nose. 'Yeah, definitely not.'
"And now for the big one!" Ms. Priscilla paused, probably for effect. "ABSOLUTELY no... inappropriate items."
The room erupted into laughter. Someone yelled, "Define inappropriate, ma'am!"
Her face flushed beet red. "You KNOW what I mean!"
'Say it. Say the word. I dare you.'
"I'm talking about—personal items!" she hissed. "Condoms, vibrators, whatever the devil you kids are smuggling around these days! Leave them at home!"
Viktor pressed his fist to his mouth to stifle a laugh. 'Oh, yeah, Prissy, my bad—I packed my Game Boy, a snack stash, and a six-inch... well, you know.'
"And don't even think about getting frisky on this trip!" she added, her glare sweeping the bus. "If I hear about so much as a boob-squeezing incident, I will end it right there. This isn't a cheap motel—it's an educational experience!"
"Damn, ma'am, let us live!" someone shouted from the back.
"You want to live?" she snapped. "Then keep your pants zipped and your hormones in check!"
Viktor leaned toward the window, trying not to howl. 'Sure thing, Ms. P. I'll definitely stop being a rebellious 18-year-old with raging hormones just because you told me to.'
Her eyes landed squarely on him. "And Mr. Chris, I know you're already breaking these rules. Don't test me."
He raised both hands, feigning innocence. "Wouldn't dream of it."
'She's not wrong,' he admitted to himself, glancing at the bulging bag next to him. Inside were chips, a banned energy drink, and something... less innocent, courtesy of a gag gift from his best friend. 'God forbid she actually checks my bag. That'd be awkward.'
The bus finally lurched forward, students settling into their seats. Viktor Chris popped open a can of soda with a satisfying hiss, already counting the ways he planned to break every rule.
'This trip's off to a great start. What could possibly go wrong?'
Viktor waited until Ms. Priscilla had her back turned, busy glaring at some poor soul in the middle rows for chewing gum. Perfect. He slid his hand behind him, fishing out his phone from the secret compartment he'd sewn into his backpack.
With a few quick taps, he booted up his favorite game: Rivals 11 vs 11: Ultimate Football Showdown – When Enemies Become Legends.
Nobody called it that, of course.
It was Rivals 22 to anyone who didn't have time for tongue twisters.
The familiar opening screen flashed up, and Viktor grinned. He was two taps away from diving into the game when Jaime's sweaty, moon-shaped face popped over the seat in front of him.
"Psst! Son of Chris!"
Viktor jumped, fumbling his phone but catching it just in time. "Dude, what are you doing? Trying to get me caught?"
Jaime's whisper was loud enough to qualify as shouting. "I gotta tell you something. Move over!"
Jaime squeezed into the seat beside him, his large frame making the already-cramped space feel like a sardine can. Viktor shoved his bag onto the floor.
"Could you be any less sneaky?" Viktor muttered, glancing around to make sure no one noticed.
Jaime ignored him, leaning in conspiratorially. "So, there's this guy."
"What guy?"
"This guy I met at home," Jaime said, his excitement making his double chin wobble. "He's a beast at Rivals 22. Like, insane."
Viktor's competitive instincts flared. He straightened, phone still clutched in his hand. "Define 'insane.' Like, as good as me?"
Jaime scratched his head, looking awkward. "Uh... I mean... I only played him once."
"And?"
"He beat me 11-0," Jaime admitted, face turning red.
Viktor stared at him. "You're joking."
"Nope. Clean sweep. Not a single goal from me."
'Okay, that's embarrassing, but Jaime sucks at this game. It doesn't mean anything,' Viktor told himself.
Jaime continued, oblivious to Viktor's growing irritation. "And you only beat me 10-1, so…"
The comparison hit Viktor like a slap. "So what?" he said, voice sharp.
Jaime held up his hands. "I'm just saying! He might be better than you. I can't tell."
Viktor narrowed his eyes. "What's his connection ID?"
Jaime hesitated. "Why?"
"Because I'm gonna play him and prove I'm better," Viktor said, his pride bristling.
Jaime grinned, digging out his phone. "Alright, alright, lemme find it… Ah! Here it is. Search for Pussycrackers."
Viktor blinked. "Pussycrackers?"
Jaime shrugged. "I didn't name him, bro."
Viktor groaned but typed it into the search bar. Sure enough, the profile popped up: an avatar of a smug cat with a crown and a player rating higher than Viktor had ever seen.
He sent the request and leaned back, waiting for the guy to accept.
'I'll crush this dude,' he thought, planning out his strategy. 'I'll hit him with the double feint, the rainbow flick, and my brand-new triple volley setup. He won't know what hit him.'
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, deafening bang.
The bus lurched violently, tires screeching. Viktor's phone flew out of his hand as the world tilted sideways. He barely had time to grab the seat in front of him before everything flipped.
Metal groaned. Glass shattered. His body slammed against the window as the bus somersaulted, spinning like a coin tossed into the air.
The last thing Viktor saw before blacking out was Jaime's wide-eyed face, his mouth open in a scream that never reached Viktor's ears.