by Vera Hollins
I had a long way to go.
I reached the cafeteria with twirls of anxiety in my stomach and no appetite. Mateo had texted me in the meantime to ask me about my day, and I answered casually, refraining from mentioning what Christine had done to me. I was never able to tell him about my troubles in school. I tried, knowing that honesty was important in a relationship, but I just couldn’t say those words out loud to him.
I didn’t want him to consider me a loser for being bullied, but most importantly, I didn’t want him to feel obliged to defend me or go out of his way to help me.
My bangs covered the Band-Aid on my forehead, but when a few students glanced my way, it felt like they could see right through it, and I sped up, blushing furiously. It’s just a small Band-Aid, Sarah. It’s not a big deal.
Jess was already in front of the lunchroom when I arrived, peering inside as if looking for someone. We’d agreed to meet here, so she couldn’t be searching for me.
“What are you doing?”
She flinched and faced me. “Nothing,” she squealed, her face crimson red.
I frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Just really hungry.”
“Okay. Let’s go inside.”
We entered the cafeteria, and my eyes scanned the room, searching for Hayden. My heart lurched in my chest when I saw him at his table. He was kissing Maya, who sat between him and Masen, and a dull ache shot through my stomach. I glanced away, trying to convince myself I was okay.
I looked at the food in front of me, less inclined to eat. Everything looked tasteless. I would have to force myself to eat, but I didn’t want to starve myself. I settled for a burger.
She took her tray of beef with vegetables, noticing my sour expression. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not really.”
She pointed at my Band-Aid. “Is it because of that?”
I shook my head. “I think stress is getting to me.” I couldn’t tell her about my contradictory feelings and that bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach because I didn’t have Hayden’s eyes on me anymore. I was nettled because I cared about what Hayden did on Saturday night. So, he collided with Tyler’s shoulder. It wasn’t a big deal. “I’m nervous about the early action letter.”
I saw she didn’t quite believe me, but she didn’t push it. “You’ll get into Yale. Don’t worry. Your art and grades are amazing.”
We headed to our table. “Wait until the midterms start. It’s going to be brutal.”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me. I actually had a dream last night. I was studying like crazy, and I failed—” She halted abruptly, and I turned around to see what had made her stop.
Blake was coming our way, his cold gray eyes solely on Jess. I clenched my hands. What did he want now? A couple of students were already watching us, expecting some spectacle, no doubt, and I shifted closer to Jess, noticing her hands tremble.
Blake stopped only inches away from Jessica and looked at the contents of her tray. “You really shouldn’t put anything on that tray, Fats. You’re already as fat as it gets.”
She blushed immediately, dropping her gaze. “Please leave me alone, Blake,” she said in her tiny voice that was even more high-pitched in fear.
He smirked and edged closer to her, and a ripple of disgust crawled all over my skin. His animosity unfurled in waves from him, his sharp, mean eyes evoking dread. “And miss all the fun? Look at you. I didn’t even do anything to you and you’re already squealing like a pig.”
His arm muscles tensed, like he was about to do something, and I tensed too, ready to react.
And then it happened. He raised his arm in a quick movement, smacking Jess’s tray, but I reached for it fast, stabilizing it in her hands while gripping mine with my free hand. Some vegetables rolled across her tray, but at least nothing landed all over Jessica or the floor. In an instant, we became the center of everyone’s attention. However, my anger was stronger than embarrassment for a change; adrenaline raged through my veins.
“What the actual fuck?” He glared at me, his nostrils widening.
“Enough, Blake. I’m sick and tired of you bullying Jessica. What is wrong with you? Leave her alone!”
“Would you rather I bully you?” He grabbed me by my arm and yanked me against his firm body, which radiated white-hot anger. There was something so dark in his eyes—a glimpse of a haunting pain—and my eyes widened when I caught sight of it. Pain?
He must’ve sensed I’d seen it because he masked it immediately and pushed me aside. “Stay out of my way,” he hissed to me, glancing at Jessica before he went to his table.
“Sarah, the savior,” a guy near us shouted and clapped loudly, and I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or if the respect in his voice and eyes was real. Another student shouted the same thing, and then more students started clapping, chanting “Sarah, the savior” and “Call Sarah Decker when you need help.”
I glanced at Jess. She smiled at me, as if she was happy they finally acknowledged me, and mouthed, “Thank you.”
I smiled back at her, feeling proud of myself for being able to help her. “You’re welcome.”
Succumbing to my urge, I looked in Hayden’s direction and found him staring right at me. My stomach jolted. His intense eyes watched me, inviting a scorching heat that burst right through me. He was completely still, ignoring Maya, who said something to him with her arm placed around his waist. We looked at each other as countless seconds ticked by, drawn together in some inexplicable way, and I was entirely unaware of anyone in the room but him.
But then a shadow clouded his eyes, and animosity and resentment settled in. He broke our stare and returned his full attention to Maya, not sparing me a single glance.
I headed to my table, determined not to think about the hurt I wasn’t supposed to feel. I wasn’t supposed to care. I’d said those horrible words to him without thinking about the consequences, so I couldn’t expect a different treatment from him now.
He didn’t look at me again during lunch. Nothing. Like I didn’t exist. And as much as I kept telling myself that was okay and I was with Mateo, there was that voice that was driving me crazy, always in the back of my mind.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Chapter 3
IN THE EVENING, MATEO and I went to a Mexican restaurant. It was one of Mateo’s most favorite places to eat because they made alambres just the way his grandma, Consuelo, did, and he claimed she made the best alambres in the world. The songs of a Mariachi band played through the speakers around the place, and the air brimmed with the smells of ambrosial dishes that made my mouth water.
Since it was Monday, the place wasn’t that crowded, but I’d already noticed a few seniors from my school whose curious glances found their way to Mateo and me every once in a while. I tried to ignore them, but my cheeks burned in response to their attention.
“Why aren’t you wearing the bracelet?” Mateo asked me from across our table. I glanced at my naked wrist, confused as to why I’d forgotten to wear it.
“I forgot. I’m sorry,” I said with a small smile, noticing a look of hurt that briefly shadowed his face. “I see you’re wearing my gift. Or rather, I can smell it.” I was referring to the cologne I gave him for our one month anniversary. His previous cologne wasn’t to my taste, so I bought this one, which had a leathery fragrance.
I took his hand in mine, and his warmth seeped into my cold hand. He half-smiled, the dimple in his right cheek making an appearance. A few girls openly ogled him, which was no wonder since Mateo Diaz was super attractive. His dark hair fell in curls around the face that was adorned by a chiseled jaw and sharp cheekbones many guys would be jealous of.
I had some classes with a few of those girls, who were probably curious as to why such a gorgeous guy would be with me—a plain Jane weirdo.
I certainly didn’t look anything special, even though I was on a date. I was clueless about fashion and terrible at putting on makeup. Mel had tried teaching me, spending
hours applying her foundations, eye pencils, and eyeshadows on me in front of a mirror, but it was pointless. My hands always trembled when I tried to do it myself, which was odd because I was a good artist, but I couldn’t put one simple line on my eyelids.
That was why I didn’t bother wearing makeup, even when I was with Mateo. I tried wearing nice clothes, though, following Jess and Mel’s suggestions, and I tried doing something with my wavy hair that reached my mid-back, taming it with a flat iron, but it was far from extraordinary.
Mateo noticed me watching those girls, and he placed his hand against my cheek, making me look at him. “Hey. I know what you’re thinking now. Don’t. You’re so pretty.”
I blushed, which was a usual occurrence whenever he complimented me. Even after one month, I couldn’t get used to receiving compliments from him. “Thank you. How do you always know what I’m thinking? You have some powerful mind-reading ability.”
He surprised me when he grew serious. “It’s not so powerful. If it was, I’d be able to know why you have that Band-Aid on your forehead.”
I gnawed at my bottom lip and glanced away, removing my hand from his. “I told you, I bent to pick up something from the floor, and I hit the edge of—”
“Yeah, I’ve already memorized the story you told me, so you don’t have to repeat it. I just don’t know why you’re lying to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You are lying. You always blush when you do.”
Like he’d pressed a button, heat surged into my cheeks. “I blush all the time.”
“That’s true, but I learned to recognize why.”
My fingers reached out to play with the fries on my plate. I didn’t want to talk about it. I was never able to admit to him that I couldn’t truly be myself in front of him. I just wanted everything to be perfect between us, and I took extra care not to ruin our relationship or his image of me, but I was aware I did the same thing I’d done with Kayden. I’d never been fully honest with Kay, afraid he would think I was a loser if he knew how truly unpopular or unloved I was.
Bullying felt like a proof that there was definitely something wrong with me, like I was born with a mistake. If I told others I was bullied, they could see me as faulty and decide I wasn’t worth their time. I was so ashamed that I hadn’t been able to voice my most honest and deepest thoughts to Kayden. To some extent, he knew other students bullied me, and he tried to stop it whenever he witnessed it or heard about it, but he couldn’t have been everywhere or protect me 24/7. He was never aware of just how much Hayden hated me.
I knew, I really knew I should be braver and more open with people, but the walls I’d built a long time ago were too thick and tall. I preferred to stay safe and closed than be open and vulnerable.
Unfortunately, staying safe meant hurting others, and I recognized the sadness in Mateo’s eyes because I wasn’t completely honest with him.
I sighed. “I was knocked with my locker door.”
Mateo frowned. “What?”
I couldn’t even look him in the eyes. I ripped the fries on my plate to pieces. “My ex-friend, Christine, decided it would be a good idea to hit me with my locker door.”
He took a hold of my hands, stopping my nervous movements. “Is this the first time she’s done something like that?”
I stared at the mess I’d made on my plate, catching my lip between my teeth. I didn’t feel better after confessing this. I felt ashamed. “No. We go back a long way. It’s complicated.”
“I’m pretty sure I can handle it. Tell me.”
“I can’t, okay?” I didn’t want to talk about this now. We were supposed to have fun, not talk about such a depressing topic.
“Come on. You know you can tell me everything. Look at me.” He tried to catch my chin, but I brushed his hand away.
“Please, Mateo. Give me some time and space.”
His brows furrowed even further, and he leaned away from me. “Really, Sarah? I’ve been giving you time and space all this time. I was patient and took it slow with you because I didn’t want to push you, but you’re still keeping me at a distance. You’re not being fair.”
I felt like he’d slapped me. I couldn’t believe what he’d just said. “So you've had enough already? You’ve already decided I was too much of a hassle? We’re only been together for one month, Mateo. I was bullied for almost ten years! I don’t trust people. I can’t. How can I trust them so easily when I got used to a long pattern of betrayal and hurt?”
“So you don’t trust me either?”
I looked away. I could already hear the hushed whispers of a few people around us who heard our argument, and I hated discussing something so private at a public place.
I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I’m trying my best to trust you. You’re my first boyfriend, so I need time to get used to sharing my feelings.”
This admission instigated another wave of shame that crashed over me, and the pressure in my chest built up as I waited for his answer. He didn’t say anything at first, and I almost expected him to tell me I was too much to handle and break up with me.
But then his lips curved into a faint smile. “I’m sorry,” he said and caught my hand. “I’m also trying my best to understand you. You were hurt badly in the past, so I have to be patient.”
Why did that sound like he couldn’t really understand me? Then again, how could he? He’d never been bullied. He was a popular guy everyone loved. He was the captain of Rawenwood High football team and a real girl magnet, always surrounded by family and friends. We were complete opposites in that aspect. Up until now, I hadn’t been able to experience normal teenage life, so this attempt at normality wasn’t easy for me.
I sighed. “I’m sorry too. I know I’m difficult, and you’re always so sweet.”
He leaned in and kissed me, his lips lingering on mine before he pulled back. “You’re even sweeter. I don’t need sugar when I have you.”
I returned his smile, appreciating that he was trying to ease the atmosphere between us. “Yeah, but I doubt you’d be able to resist ordering your favorite pineapple empanadas.”
He grinned, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Of course not.”
“Seriously, all that sugar is going to kill you one day.”
“You can kill me any day, sugar.” He winked, and I rolled my eyes.
“And suffer the wrath of all these teenage girls gawking at you? No, thank you.” He laughed, and things went back to normal between us again.
We left the restaurant an hour later, and he drove me back home. He slowed down when he spotted a gas station and convenience store in the distance, passing a large, almost vacant parking lot. He continued driving another five hundred feet until he pulled into the gas station.
“I need to get gas and buy some stuff.” He turned off his Ford and unbuckled his seat belt. “Wait for me here. I won’t be long.”
I nodded and watched him go inside the store. I exhaled a shaky breath and leaned my head against the headrest. I’d been tense ever since our argument. We rarely argued, and our fights always ended quickly, like tonight, but nothing would ever be solved. We would joke and talk about everything and nothing, but I always felt like something was missing.
I let out a long sigh. Maybe I was overanalyzing it. I should just give it more time.
The screeching of car tires in the distance broke through my thoughts, and I looked over my shoulder at the parking lot we’d passed a minute ago. A black Chevrolet Camaro slid sideways to a halt, followed by a yellow Chevrolet Corvette. My heart began its mad rhythm. There was no doubt that those two were Hayden and Masen.
A black Honda came to an abrupt stop behind them, and Hayden and Masen rushed out of their cars, looking ready to fight.
I swallowed hard when two burly guys got out of the Honda. One of them was short but muscular, while the other was too tall, probably over six-foot-five. They looked menacing and all kinds of wrong. My breathing grew uneven when they began arguin
g with Hayden and Masen, their postures promising nothing good.
Hayden shouted something at the short guy, motioning furiously with his hands. The guy pushed him in response, making Hayden stumble. He lunged at the guy, shoving him a few feet away as Masen punched the other guy in the face.
I pressed my hand against my mouth when they started exchanging blows, and it became raw and violent so quickly I couldn’t believe my eyes. I looked around the parking lot and gas station for anyone, but there was no one, and I couldn’t see Mateo in the store through the glass doors.
I brought my gaze back to Hayden, tension engulfing more of me. What should I do? Masen struggled with the tall guy, landing on the hood of the Honda when he got kicked in the stomach, while Hayden fell to the ground, trapped under the short guy who was punching him in the face relentlessly.
They needed help. I needed to call the police, but what if that would only cause trouble for Hayden? What if they came too late?
I glanced at the shop again, but I still couldn’t locate Mateo. I spotted a few cameras around the gas station, but none of them overlooked that parking lot, and I doubted anyone inside the store was aware of what was going on.
Damn it. Unable to stay in one place, I got out of the car, desperately wanting to do something. But what could I do?
The short guy was stronger, but Hayden managed to push him off him, catching his face with his fist. He barely had time to get to his feet when the guy took out a knife. It was like horrible déjà vu, the sickening image of Josh cutting Hayden’s shoulder flashing in my mind. Masen wasn’t able to help Hayden, because he had his hands full.
I opened my backpack and took out one thing I hoped I wouldn’t ever have to use—pepper spray. Josh’s and Natalie’s murder attempts had left me paranoid, so I started carrying it with me several days after I got out of the hospital. Hayden backed away, trying to dodge the knife, but each time the guy swung his knife at him, the blade got closer, until it became almost impossible for him to avoid it.