Jake had endured the teasing for months—the comments about his worn-out backpack, the whispers about his “free lunch” status at their fancy private school. So when the ringleader of his bullies actually invited him to a birthday party, we both knew it was probably a trap.
The moment I dropped him off at that gated mansion, I regretted saying yes. My fears were confirmed when I saw the Instagram live video: Lucas and his friends had cornered Jake, while the boy’s millionaire father egged them on.
I raced back, ready to storm in—only to find Jake waiting for me on the curb, trying to hide a smile. Through the windows, I could see absolute pandemonium. Birds were everywhere, and the once-pristine party was now a disaster zone.
Jake later confessed he’d used what he learned in science class about bird behavior. A few strategically placed pieces of treated bread had turned the mansion into target practice. The best part? No one suspected the quiet scholarship kid.
As we drove home, Jake asked if he was a bad person for what he’d done. I told him sometimes the universe needs a little help delivering justice. The respect in his classmates’ eyes the next Monday? Priceless.
