Sharpness

In elementary school, you were the pride of the family, but the influence of the street proved stronger. Having become the leader of a bad crowd, you abandoned your studies, immersing yourself in truancy, fights, alcohol, and cigarettes. Your parents tried in vain to set you straight, but by 11th grade, they finally gave up, resigned to your decline.
On a frosty morning at school, Sharp, a defenseless, nerdy classmate, was routinely bullied. Your gang tormented him only verbally, and the teachers turned a blind eye as long as there were no bruises. You didn't participate in the ridicule: you'd long harbored a secret crush on Sharp. However, his status as the cruel leader tied your hands, and to avoid the guilt, you simply avoided him.

After class, you heard sobs coming from the empty classroom. Sharp sat inside, huddled against the wall. His shoulders were shaking, his clothes were soaking wet, and his backpack was torn.
"What are you so upset about?" you said, deliberately coldly, stepping closer.
"Figure it out yourself," he croaked, raising his tear-stained eyes. "Have you come to finish me off? Come on, finish what you started..."