Days passed like the wind, and suddenly it was Friday.
Yes, the day when Principal Richardson's punishments would become a reality.
"Don't forget to stop by the hospital," Mrs. Avilla reminded me.
Since my car broke down, Mrs. Avilla dropped me off at school every morning. It had already become a ritual.
I paused for a moment. Today was also the day I finally decided to visit my mother in the hospital. Despite everything she had done to me, I realized I didn't need to be like her. I shouldn't let her distaste for me shape who I was. There was a time she did love me, and even if that part of her heart had vanished, it hadn't vanished from mine.
"I won't forget," I assured her.
"Will you find a ride?" she asked.
I nodded. My plan was to call an Uber, though I wouldn't tell Mrs. Avilla. It was a good plan but one I couldn't afford to do every time.
My car needed at least two weeks to get repaired, if not more. That left me without a vehicle, and I didn't have another car to use. I wasn't the best driver, and Scott had his own car that he used every day. Mom's car was damaged, and our fourth car wasn't automatic.
"Here we are," Mrs. Avilla declared, cutting the engine.
"Thank you," I said sincerely. She had been a real help and took care of me in ways my own mother never did.
Mrs. Avilla looked me in the eyes, then, to my surprise, took me in her arms and kissed me on the top of my head.
I closed my eyes. How long had it been since I received a hug like that? A hug so similar to my mom's. How much did I yearn for my mother to give me the care and affection that Mrs. Avilla was giving me?
I never thought that Mrs. Avilla and I would have this kind of relationship again—the one we had when I was still with Henry. After all, she thought I broke her son's heart, and maybe I did, but not more than he broke mine.
And one day, I saw how you looked at them—not with hate, not with rage, just pain and something else that broke my heart. I followed you that day, followed you to the lake. You cried, I remembered the words she spoke to me a few weeks ago.
She also found the note under Henry's pillow, so she must have an idea of what happened at the summer party before junior year started. Not that anyone knew what happened except Wyatt, Henry, and me. All the other classmates, including my brother, Juliette, Priya, Jake, Cam, Leah, Franny, and even Rose, heard a slightly different version when my breakup became a spectacle. The real truth, the real reason, was a secret between Wyatt and me. I was done with giving justifications when the person I trusted most couldn't trust me.
Although Henry had the right to mistrust me because I wasn't always honest with him. He knew something was up between my mom and me, but I never told him. I just couldn't, and I knew it hurt him that I wasn't trusting him, but he didn't poke about it much because he always kept everything inside.
Henry was the key to my happiness. He was my happiness, but at the same time, he was also the person of my sadness and heartbreak. No wonder they say the people you love most will hurt you the most.
Henry was that person for me.
I released myself from the hug and got out of the car. I had to go to the counselor's office, which was why I was so early at school. Then I had classes, a four-hour gap where I would go to the hospital, and afterward F.T.D. class.
But before that, I had to use the washroom and freshen up, leaving all those memories and thoughts of Henry in the toilet. Once I was finished, I quickly washed my hands when I heard someone crying. I looked up, trying to figure out where the sound came from. Every stall was halfway closed, but the last one was fully shut. I bent down and saw three pairs of shoes.
Who would come this early to school?
I got up when I heard the slow whimpering again and leaned in.
"Don't do this, please," a girl begged.
Someone scoffed. "It's nothing personal, but I lost the debate because of you."
Now that sounded very personal to me. I heard an electric sound and knew right away that nothing pleasant would happen when the first girl started sobbing.
I put my bag down as quietly and quickly as I could and got my flask out. If I couldn't solve whatever was happening, the bottle would do. I wasn't going to hit someone, but I could threaten them with a flask. I heaved my bag onto my shoulder again and did the first thing that came to mind to save that girl.
I kicked the stall door open. Surprisingly, it opened, followed by a scream. "My arm!"
Inside, I found a crying freshman sitting on the toilet lid. Another girl had a razor in her hand, dangerously close to the freshman's head, and the last girl, whom I accidentally hit with the door, cradled her arm. I wasn't really sorry for that since she looked like the accomplice to the razor girl. They both were probably sophomores.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" the razor girl shrieked.
"A girl who needs to use the washroom?" I suggested.
"There are plenty of other stalls," the accomplice stated.
"Yeah, but I like this one. It's in the back, and when you have to poop, you also have this cute little window with blurred glass because no one wants to see someone else peeing or pooping, and it's obviously gross if someone could watch you do this because that's just—" I stopped talking, realizing I was off track.
Razor girl stepped closer. "Leave."
I had to hold back my laugh when she held the razor in the air as if it was a weapon. I mean, of course, she could use the razor to hurt me if she really wanted to, but I knew she would realize who I was in a few seconds.
"Or what? Will you threaten me with a razor?" I asked, my voice filled with laughter.
"You little—" she charged but stopped midway. Her eyes widened as she looked at me. Then she gave a side glance to her friend, who also stared at me with her mouth so wide open that every little insect could fly into it and she wouldn't even realize.
Recognition of who I was dawned on their faces, and I was a little taken aback at how quickly they figured it out.
I crossed my arms and smiled smugly at them. Razor girl and her friend looked between the freshman girl and me before they scurried away. Once they left the washroom, the freshman girl hurried past me.
"Why did you do this?" She whirled around.
My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "I tried to help you."
At least be a little grateful, I thought.
She shook her head. "I had it under control."
"By letting them shave off your head?" I asked, confused and biting my lip to hold back the laugh that was bubbling up in my throat. It wasn't my fault that I found the stupidest things funny.
The freshman girl glared at me. "No. I collected evidence against their bullying. I would've shown it to them, but you barged in."
The accusation in her tone couldn't be clearer, and her naivety in thinking like that was so blatant. "You really think your file of evidence would have stopped them from going through with their plan?"
I stopped myself from repeating what they wanted to do to her. She would have been bald if I hadn't stepped in. "I helped you because you were crying, or else I would have walked away. I don't know why you don't understand that," I continued.
She let out a frustrated sigh. "No, you don't understand. I'm a scholarship student. My place in the hierarchy of this school is the lowest. I'm a Baroness thanks to that scholarship, and I'm destined for the hardships that come my way and the dislikes of the higher-ups," she laughed humorlessly and pointed a finger at me. "And you—you were the Queen of this school until you got dumped and stripped of your rank. You're no one on the hierarchy ladder."
I gripped my bottle tighter. "Thank you for reminding me."
When she said it like that, it sounded like an insult, which probably the school thought too since so many students used the term as if it was the baddest swear word they ever used. I wasn't dumped either. I was pretty sure I was given an ultimatum by Henry in front of everyone at that stupid party, and when I didn't say anything, he broke up. I was also ready to break up with him, but he said the words before I was ready. So, I wasn't really dumped, right?
"The rule that followed afterward is that no one in school is allowed to talk to you unless it's for class or required. If you talk to anyone, we're required to stay quiet. Whoever speaks to you will have to bear the wrath of the King of Lakewood Prep. It also gives anyone who's higher than a Baron or Baroness the power to do whatever they want with that person. That is what the higher-ups teach us in orientation on the first day of school," she explained.
"And today I'm that person because of you." Tears welled up in her eyes.
I opened my mouth when she held up a hand. "I will bear the wrath. I will have to bear the consequences because of you. You talked to me, you intervened, and they saw. It doesn't matter if you tried to help me. You're no one in this school unless told otherwise. No one can say anything to you, no one is to touch you, and no one can do anything to you because that's the right of the King. It's only his right, or one has to bear the consequences."
We stared at each other. Her lips quivered as tears fell from her eyes, and part of me knew that I did this. I made her school life harder, and I couldn't do anything to rectify it. I was never bullied, so I didn't know what she was going through.
So, it was only fair that she was accusing me of ruining her life. She wiped her tears and turned around to leave.
I turned my head and looked at myself in the mirror.
The points were so stupid. I knew about the rule because Henry, aka the King, dragged me to the cafeteria and announced it in front of everyone as if he wasn't my boyfriend a time ago. The boy who had my heart for years and the one person I was the most loyal to.
When I argued how dumb the rule was, he declared that he'd be the only one who had direct claim on me—whatever that meant. The first few months of junior year had been spent with no communication with anyone except Rose when she was officially transferred to Lakewood Prep.
Henry let me keep Rose as a friend, whereas any other student was deemed unworthy by him when they talked to me.
The irony of it was that the rule didn't stop the rumors. It didn't stop any guy from using my name as if I was a thing and spreading lies of how I slept with them. I had my fair share of problems with alcohol the first few months of junior year, but I heard the rumors. I thought Henry would stop them, but he didn't, and after a time, I ignored them and let everyone say what they wanted.
After Principal Richardson had me sit with my brother and his friends, I was allowed to speak with them, and slowly the rule diminished. It wasn't like anyone had been talking to me, but it was as if some of them forgot there was ever a rule. I mean, I was being ignored by most of the school population, but it was more bearable than the first few months of junior year.
Though I was occupied with getting back on my feet the rest of junior year, I still felt a change in people.
I was wrong to believe that anyone would ever take my side after all I did.
I hurt the golden boy of Lakewood.
But not all of it was true, but who would believe me when the golden boy was keeping everyone against me?
That was why I always said Henry wasn't always the golden boy he sought to be. He had his fair share of being wrong too.
It was true, though, he held all the power in school. Sometimes I also think he held the power of this town because he's of the Avilla line. So, everyone loved him and never defied him.
I realized that I would never find anyone in this school who would willingly drive me until my car got repaired.
I never understood why Henry made this stupid rule, and now I didn't understand why the rule was back again. I thought he loosened up because what would it gain him? What would it gain if I didn't talk to anyone?
I had the status of non-existent to my classmates because of my ex-boyfriend.
It looked like Henry didn't want anyone to forget what I did. Of what happened at the party before junior year. Of what I did to his friends before our showdown in the four weeks I returned from New Haven.
Maybe it was revenge.
Maybe it wasn't.
I had to talk to him even if I didn't want to.
How did my life become so complicated?
I was the perfect girl.
Everything was perfect until New Haven happened.
Now I had no idea who I was.
I didn't know if I would ever find myself again or if I ever wanted to.
The freshman was right—I was no one.
Maybe it was best for me to be no one.
With one last look at myself, I wiped the tears off my face that silently cascaded down and the tragedy I made my life thanks to myself. I made my way to the school counselor.