When the end of the day finally comes, after hours of the same thirty people sneaking looks at me constantly, the only thing I want to do is curl up in bed and forget today happened.
As I exit the school, a scuffle at the edge of the schoolโs property catches my attention. Thereโs two guys towering over another one. Shorter and wider than the two, he steps back, arms up in defense.
I sigh, shoulders lowering. Bullies suck worse than first days. No matter what, I donโt ever allow myself to be bulled. People can speak negatively about me behind my back all they want, but theyโll never say anything to my damn face and make it out unscathed.
I glance to the right, seeking out a teacher on duty, but most of them seem occupied with organizing the bus lines for the younger kids. Everyoneโs so worried about young kidsโ safety, leaving the older ones to fend for themselves.
Maybe itโs dumb of me. Maybe I shouldnโt make waves on the first day. Either way, it doesnโt stop me from marching over there and pushing between the three bodies, even noting the two bullies are much larger than me and can easily squish me if they wanted to.
โHey!โ I call, shoving my hands on oneโs chest. โBack the hell off. What is wrong with you?โ
Both guys stop what theyโre doing, their gazes dropping to me. One sneers, but his attention remains locked on the kid they were pushing around. โThorne, youโre pathetic. Needing a girl to frigginโ protect you.โ
โYouโre pathetic,โ I counter, before the guyโthis Thorneโcan speak, โfor picking on people. God, what is wrong with you? You realize there are bigger issues in the world than your pettiness, right?โ Past the bullyโs body, I catch the eye of a teacher, whoโs finally turned around, noticing us. โLook, a teacher is watching. Thereโs nothing you can do now anyway, without getting in trouble.โ
The one I pushed away steps farther back, his fist clenching his friendโs shirtsleeve. He rolls his eyes, scanning me, his gaze stopping on my ratty shoes. โWhatever, you two are made for each other.โ
Grumbling, they run off, and once thereโs a few feet of distance between us, I do too, marching in the opposite direction.
โHey, wait! You canโt just leave after that.โ
I spin on my heel, arms crossed and hip cocked out, as the kid I saved jogs closer to me. His blond hair hangs over his eyes, as is the style with most guys my age right now, but his kind smile shines through.
Still, I donโt fall for it. Every foster family Iโve ever had smiles kindly in the beginning. Then it goes downhill. โWhy, because you want to insult me for โtaking care of you?โ Sorry for having a heart.โ Guys are all the sameโunable to handle being โsavedโ by a girl.
โNo, I wanted to thank you.โ His hands at his sides curl, his sapphire eyes darting all around my form.
Oh. โNo worries.โ I turn to leave again, shrugging off his apology. Being a decent human doesnโt mean I need a reward.
And again, as if heโs a glutton for punishment, he speaks, โIt is a big deal. Not everyone does stuff like that.โ
Heโs not going to let this go apparently. I spin again until I face him and roll my eyes. โThatโs the issue. Too much bad in the world, and weโre not saving each other often enough. Why were they bullying you anyway?โ
โLook at me.โ His hands gesture to his body. โI mean, theyโre on the track team. Fit. Popular. And, well, Iโm not.โ
Like he suggests, I scan him. I suppose heโs on the thicker side. Some would call him fat, but Iโm not some. Weight doesnโt really matter. Fat or skinny, if someone is evil, theyโre evil. Everyone worries about looks, but itโs personality and having a heart mattering more.
โStill no reason for them to make fun of you.โ I shrug again, wondering when heโll be satisfied enough with this conversation to allow me to leave.
Not yet, apparently, since his next words are, โYouโre the new girl, right?โ
Of course he knows me.
โIโm in the other grade seven class, and well, you were mentioned,โ he adds, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his baggy jeans. โWhatโs your name?โ
He seems harmless enough and is, so far, the only kid to look at me like Iโm worth a moment of their time.
So, I say, โTeagan. Yours?โ
โBrent. I like your hair,โ he comments, his bright eyes landing on my head. โCherry red.โ
My fingers find the edges of my most noticeable feature. โYeah.โ Does he want me to say anything more to that?
โItโs too bad weโre not in the same class, but tomorrow for recessโฆโ He trails off and shuffles his feet side to side as his teeth sink into the corner of his lip. โWanna hang out?โ
Is he trying to be friends with me? I tilt my head. It happens so infrequently in all the schools Iโve been to, I forget what friendship looks like.
HeโsโBrentโis offering me a hand. Kindness. Friendship. And though I may not be in this town for long, thereโs no reason I shouldnโt take the leap and risk it. Time will tell if he remains so, or if heโll tire of the new kid, like so many others have in the past, and ignore me.
โSure.โ
Little did I know on that random Tuesday, Brent would become my everything.
My friend.
My hero.
My enemy.
My saviour.
My future.
M.L. Philpitt is Canadian-born and raised, and enjoys representing Canada within her novels. As a Ravenclaw, she loves education, having undergraduate degrees in English Literature and Sociology, a certificate in Autism and Behavioural Sciences, and a MA in Counselling Psychology.She writes in various romance new adult genres including paranormal, fantasy, dark romance, and contemporary. She has lots of crazy trapped in her head for readers to enjoy.When M.L. Philpitt isnโt making up stories, sheโs devouring those imagined by other authors. Her love of reading began when she was a young child and only grew with age. She enjoys many genres, as reflected in her writing preferences.