The McQuaid brothers.
Even just one of them was plenty to deal with.
But it was never just one of them.
Tommy and Doug. Doug and Tommy.
Damn duo, he thought in disgust, turning on the sink faucet and reaching for the soap dispenser.
He had been the star antagonist before they transferred in.
Crowds had cowered before him.
Now he almost cowered before them.
He bristled as the objects of his irritation strode into the boys' restroom as if they owned the place. He hung back at the far sink, ignoring them as he leisurely washed his hands.
Doug McQuaid sauntered ahead of his brother, passing the row of stalls and casually flinging every door open with a loud bang.
A toilet flushed and the door on the end stall flew open by itself, a scrawny freshman bolting for the exit.
He crashed blindly into the chest of Tommy McQuaid, and froze in fear.
"S-ss-sorry," the kid stammered.
Tommy looked solemnly down at the kid. He chomped his gum twice, then gave the kid a sudden friendly smile. "Forgot to wash your hands."
The kid gulped and turned around to head for the nearest sink, only to be greeted by Doug McQuaid's solid middle before even taking two steps.
"Cleanliness is next to godliness," Doug stated profoundly before stepping aside to let the kid pass. "Don't forget to wash behind your ears," he quipped pleasantly.
The kid washed and dried in record time and shot out of the bathroom like a rocket.
Doug and Tommy McQuaid grinned at each other, obviously proud of themselves.
The school's former chief tormentor, done washing his hands at the far sink, now walked past them too.
He hated them. He envied them.
He tossed his used paper towel in the trash, glaring silently at his nemesis duo before exiting.