I'm not a victim. I've never been weak. See, I'm taller, bigger: I can rest my elbow on their heads and they cannot stop me. They still try. Well, at least he tries. But, he can't really hurt me. I am a giant compared to him. Iqbal. He talks too much, and very loudly, but that is the only thing he dares to do, tease. They call him Egg Ball, something I popularised. It is disappointing, having an archenemy that's such a wuss.

I point at him, then at a picture of an ant in our textbook, and then place my cheek on the surface of the table. The class watches as I trace with a finger the trail of prey, the lost zigzagging. Everyone is quiet. And then my finger, a slow, gentle descent: once, twice, three times. It is dead. They're all looking at me. I point at the spot on the table, then at the picture, then at Iqbal.

He laughs nervously: "Kehkehkeh, hah, what are you talking about? So stupid. Oh, sorry, you cannot talk. Kehkehkeh, can't even tell a stupid story." Then he grabs my eraser. "Play monkey, play monkey, play monkey. Zedeck is the stupid monkey!" He tosses it to Kairul.

I turn to Kairul and look him in the eye. Kairul steps back. "Eh, eh, eh, eh, throw it here, here!" Kairul fingers the eraser as if it is a hot pebble, then pitches it.

I growl at Iqbal. "Stupid monkey. Come and get it!" He waves my eraser. "Dumb monkey!"

I approach him, slowly, crouching, ready.

"Catch!"

I leap. The eraser leaps from his hand, quick as a bullet. I am ascending, hands outstretched to grab it, and at the very top of my leap it

- Ah!

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