Revenge is a dish best served cold

X is shuttered inside the toilet cubicle, his head in his hands. Although the mercury is nudging somewhere in the realm of 32 to 34 degree celsius, X can feel the chills running down his spine. He imagines himself being drowned in an icy lake of cold sweat. He shivers convulsively with raw anger. Raw anger at the humiliation of an hour ago.

Somewhere, an inhabitant of a cubicle flushes and lets forth a torrent of bilious coughing. That could be Mr Zane, the Physics Teacher, with his habitual whooping cough. Someone's phone rings a risible Euro-trash melody before it is quickly silenced. Perhaps by the anxious finger of an owner who does not want to be discovered carrying a mobile phone in the sacred confines of the all-boys school X goes to.

X unzips his satchel and takes out the fruit knife he has pilfered from home. The cold glint of the blade reflects his scared facial features - his eyes rimmed with tears, snot dribbling from his nose and a mouth that is set in a determined fashion. He imagines cornering B and plunging the fruit knife into that bastard's stomach. That very deed would vindicate all the pain and suffering X has suffered in B's hands the last two years.

X remembers B pulling his seat and the simultaneous avalanche of laughter that rolled down on him like an indictment of shame as he flounced onto the floor. He could even see Mrs Raj attempting to stifle a smile at his fumble, probably attributing it to the antics of mischievous school boys. B got off with a rebuke, and the class laughter reverberated in his head as X tried to concentrate on the lesson, his face beet-red with mortification.

And thus the fruit knife and the revenge it would wreak - burrowing deep into the heart of B, and watching the blood spill. B's cries of agony would be music to his ears, and to see his pained or shocked face; all that would make up for the humiliation X has suffered all these years. He has to set his plan in action; his decision is made.

Just as he is about to return the knife into his bag, X's fingers slip and the fruit knife drops onto the tiled floor with a loud clatter. Hurriedly, X retrieves the knife and places it into the bag. As he opens the cubicle door, something hits him in the face.

The plastic bag of water breaks upon contact and splashes water all over him. As he frantically tries to squint through the droplets, he sees B running out of the toilet. Apoplectic with rage, X pulls out the knife from his bag and runs after B....