Belonging

My grandfather looks down at me. "What happened in school?" He asks.

"I'm not lying." I say quietly. "I promise."

His eyes seem to soften. "I know you wouldn't lie, Anastasiya. Just tell me what happened and I'll fix it, okay?"

I release a shaky breath, hesitant to believe that he thinks I'm telling the truth just yet. What if he changes his mind and shouts at me? He has to change from being the kind, caring grandfather to being evil and mean to me soon, right? He's been nice to me for far too long; when he does eventually crack it'll be horrible; I don't want that to happen today.

"She.." I trail off.

"Who? I need you to tell me their names, любов." He says.
(Translation: Love.)

"Claire." I whisper.

"What did Claire do?" He asks patiently.

"I sat down and she asked me if.. she asked me something so I asked if she could leave me alone." I say.

"And then what?"

"Uh.. her and her friends started saying that I thought I was better than them, but I never said that."

"Who are her friends?"

"Melodie and Rachel." I say.

"And what was the question that Claire asked you?"

"What?" I whisper.

"You said she asked you something, what was it?"

"Oh.." I whisper. "Uh.. I think someone told them something because she asked if.. if it was true that I freaked out on Angelina."

He furrows his thick eyebrows. "Angelina told them that?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

He frowns a little bit. "What happened after that?"

"All of them just started saying stuff, and then one of them said something about my hair so Claire just grabbed it, so I tried to take her hand away by grabbing her wrist." I whisper. "It wasn't to try and hurt her, I promise."

"I know." He says again, setting his hand on my shoulder. "I believe you."

I look up at him, my eyes glassy. "Really?"

"Yeah." He responds. "Of course I do."

"Thank you." I say, my voice shaking a little bit again.

He tilts his head a little bit. "Have they been mean to you before?"

I nod a little.

"Why didn't you tell a teacher?" He asks me.

"That only makes it worse." I whisper.

He looks at me for a second before following it up with, "and Angelina?"

His question is slow and calculated, as though he's afraid of the answer.

I just shrug.

"Is she mean to you in school too?"

"It doesn't really matter." I whisper. I'm not stupid enough to believe that he would really do anything about it and I don't want to cause unnecessary tension between Angelina and I.

"It does matter." He says. "And you need to tell me, Anastasiya."

"Why?" I whisper.

"Because I need to know who's bullying you at school."