I’m changing in the bathroom of the locker room when I hear it.
I tug the long sleeves of my shirt and pull my shorts over my upper thighs, fix my hair a little, breathe, and open the door. Tessa and Bethany were waiting by the sinks, and I walk right past them to my locker.
Leave me alone
“Hey dumbass, what took you so long?”
I ignore them and turn right to see that the entire contents of my locker was on the ground.
Are you fucking kidding me.
I sigh and pick up my backpack, shoes, socks. I know what’s going to happen, what they’ll do to me.
You deserve it.
When I get to my wallet-
A foot presses down on my hand.
“Whatcha got there?”
Please no.
Bethany reaches down and releases my hand just long enough for Tessa grab the little leather pouch before stepping back down on my fingers. The pressure increases and I can feel my tendons sliding around my bones.
She pulls out my emergency hundred from the back and the three ones I had in the front pocket. I thank whoever the fuck is in heaven-the ozone layer, I guess-that she doesn’t see the tiny passport photo I have of my mother
“What’s this?”
“Please, that’s for emergencies.”
“Huh. Well, that piece of shit your brother drives looks like an emergency, you don’t seem to care. Not in your cashmere fucking dress, right?”
I shut my eyes and turn my head, nose touching the dirty floor.
“It’s from a thrift shop,” I hiss.
“Well it would be, wouldn’t it,” she scoffed.
“Oh make up your damn mind. Am I wealthy and selfish or a pauper?”
The only answer I get is a painful popping noise in my hand. I scream.
“Please get off.”
To my surprise, the foot is gone.
“Yeah you’re right, this is boring.”
I move my fingers and bite back a cry. Using my right hand I pull myself up, only to feel a kick in the ribs and more blows peppering my back, a foot crashing down on my arm and my forehead smacks against the wall of lockers.
“Now that’s more like it!” Tessa cheers.
Bethany’s foot is driven into my stomach, and my shoulder, before painfully hitting my neck.
“Argh! Please, please, please stop...”
I didn’t do anything.
Tessa stops her.
“Beth, it’s enough.” She holds out a hand to pull me up, and I foolishly take it. Once I’m on my feet, she kicks my shins and stomps on my foot.
“Whoops.”
I grit my teeth and lean into the lockers, feel my blood run cold at the sound of the door opening.
“Hello? Ryan, are you in here?”
Tessa pats down her hair and kicks the bra that she threw from my locker out of view.
“Hi Coach Jeff. Bethany just had to use the bathroom and I had supplies in my locker. You know…” she makes a vague gesture around her uterus.
“Ah. Well, have you seen Ryan?” He asked.
“No, haven’t seen her. But I think one of her friends said something about her cutting class.”
“Well then. I guess she and I will have a talk. Is Bethany…?”
“Yeah, she’s good.”
The two of them walk out, and I finally breathe when I hear the clang of the old metal door.
Breathing hurts a little, though, so I hold my breath until black shadows like slugs squirm lazily in my vision and I’m left gasping painfully.
I lay motionless on the floor for what was either four minutes or four hours-I wasn’t really sure. My arm throbs painfully and I hope to god it isn’t broken.
Pulling myself up by the wooden bench in the middle of the aisle, I stumble to the shower and peel the now torn tights from my legs and hang them over the stall door.
My hands are shaking under spray and I run them over my face, washing away the blood from my forehead.
Ugh.
I’m sore all over, and I shiver in my towel and tiptoe to my locker to change. My dress is stained and my ratty tights have found their way to the trash bin, so I slip into the jeans and Archie’s sweater I always kept as a change of clothes, just in case.
My watch reads 2:45.
Shit.
I’ve got five minutes before this place gets invaded by sweaty teenagers.
Quickly gathering my things, I run to the bathroom and aggressively brush my hair, and make the mistake of looking in the mirror.
“Jesus…”
There’s a scabbed-over lump forming on my right temple, and I gulp when I lift up the hem of the sweater. My ribs are bright red and already tingeing purple, and pain shoots up into my left shoulder. My fingers twitch.
By the time I’ve tied my hair back and locked up my stuff, it’s already 2:48.
“Fuck fuck fuck…” I mutter, and take off down the hall, swaying dangerously and clipping a tall, slender woman on the shoulder.
“Whoops, I’m sorry!” She says cheerfully.
“My fault, I’m just-sorry.”
I finally recognise her as the Honors World Lit teacher. I had her last year.
“Are you alright? You seem pained-is that blood? Sweetie, what happened? Did P.E. end early?”
I fidget nervously and shake my head to let a lock of damp hair fall over the scratch on my forehead.
“I uh-I tripped over my shoelaces, took a nasty fall on the track. He let me out early.”
Don’t pretend everything’s fine, admit to it a little bit. It’ll be less suspicious.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is your wrist okay?”
“Yeah, I fell on it weird.”
I can hear the doors to the gym open and the boys are out first. Ollie catches my eye and suspicion is written on his face.
“You should go to the nurse, honey.”
For the love of god woman, will you leave me alone?
“It’s probably just a sprain, but my aunt’s a nurse so I’ll ask her to take a look.”
Bayer nods, seemingly satisfied with this answer.
“Okay pumpkin, you do that. I’ll see you around!”
“Bye Mrs. Bayer, have a good night.”
She smiles sincerely and that combined with the pain makes me want to throw up.
I’m out the door and running down the street in front of the school. The final bell rings. I turn the corner and wait.
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