When Nessa was a child, she didn't have many friends. It wasn't that she didn't want them she just found it hard to keep them without feeling bad about herself. She was too stubborn and too empathetic, a tricky combination. She liked things done her way, and when they weren't, it made her uneasy.
On her 14th birthday which also happened to be the first day of school she saw him. A new guy, or so she was told.
That's when the rumors started.
"They say he doesn't talk to anyone. And if you try to talk to him, something weird happens to you. Later, when you least expect it."
She never took it seriously. Why would she? The same classmates who said that were the ones who always picked on her. It felt more like a scare tactic than a real warning.
Besides it was her birthday. And on your birthday, aren't you supposed to have the most luck of all?
During Lunch
At lunch, she crosses her arms and watches as the new boy rolls his eyes while another kid tries to talk to him. The other kid Robert is going on about how he thinks women aren't as smart as men. I resist the urge to storm over and wring his neck. I promised his mom I wouldn't do that again, after all.
I glare at the new boy, curious to see how he'll respond to that "fact."
Before I can hear anything, a tray slams down beside me. I whip my head toward the sound and see another boy the same one who always picks on me. Once again, he asks why I have so much hair. I ignore him and glance subtly back at the new kid.
But of course, the boy doesn't stop. He asks why I have a dot on my cheek, then tugs lightly on my ear to get my attention.
I smack his hand, hard, and stand up, storming out of the cafeteria.
The new kid watches me with mild curiosity. A lunch lady tells me to get back to my table. When I return, I catch the new boy smirking. I cross my arms and sit back down beside the idiot who doesn't even know what a mole is.
I cut the blonde boy off before he can point out more of my "flaws."
Shut your mouth."
He scoffs, leaning in close. "Don't make me tell everyone about your family. You know how complicated it is."
I scoff right back. "It's not even your business."
His eyes darken. He glances at the other people at the table and leans in like he's about to spill everything. I start to reach out to stop him but my stubbornness kicks in. I sneer.
"Fine. I don't care. I'm not letting you hold anything over me. Tell them whatever you want."
I get up and ask the lunch ladies if I can go to the bathroom, then walk out of the cafeteria building. Once outside, I let the tears fall and wipe away the one that escapes.
He's been bullying me for years never letting me forget that he could say whatever he wants and never get in trouble. He's been at this small-town school since kindergarten. He knows almost everyone.
And he's done it before spread my family's business like it was gossip.
He'd been doing it for years picking at her, poking holes in her armor, and whispering just enough truth to hurt. Spreading rumors wrapped in facts. And no one ever stopped him. No one ever looked twice. Teachers ignored it. Students laughed. She'd get in trouble if she retorted. And she had gotten used to swallowing the burn in her throat and pretending it didn't matter.
But it did.
She stared at the gravel under her shoes, breathing slowly, counting backward from ten like her therapist taught her. When she finally pushed herself off the wall, her legs were shaking but she walked anyway. Back through the side door, back into the noise and the smell of overcooked food, past the curious stares and whispered jokes.
He never let her forget it that he could say whatever he wanted and never get in trouble. Not here. Not in a town this small, where everyone knew everyone and he'd been part of the scenery since kindergarten. He'd done it before spread stories about her family like it was nothing.
Like when her sister ran off again with some guy to do drugs and… other things. It had landed her in another group home, like always. And of course, the whole school knew by Monday morning. Thanks to him.
Nessa stepped back inside the school and went straight to the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and rubbed at her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling again. Her hands shook as she washed them. This was humiliating letting Toro make her cry. Again.
He always knew too much.
The rumors he spread had followed her for years, clinging like smoke. She hated him for it.
She stared into the mirror, wiping away the lone tear that had slipped out. Her reflection looked tired. Angry. Hollow. With a sudden jolt of frustration, she kicked the trash can across the room.
It skidded, clanged loudly, and for a second the memory hit her. Her sister had once set this same trash can on fire. Burned half the bathroom. Nessa would never do that… but the thought still lingered like a shadow.
Was she doomed to end up like her?
She stood in front of the mirror for a few long minutes, thinking, breathing, trying not to fall apart. Then the lunch bell rang.
With a sigh, she reached for her bag only to realize she didn't have it.
"Great," she muttered under her breath.
She took the long way back to the lunchroom, hoping to avoid the swarm of students spilling out including Toro, and the new guy who had been watching her earlier with too much curiosity for her comfort.
When she reached the cafeteria, her bag wasn't there.
She frowned. Maybe she'd left it in her last class. Wouldn't be the first time.
Nessa retraced her steps, poking her head into a couple of rooms before slipping into her next class, a few minutes late. The teacher, Mrs. Dutton, looked up with an arched brow but simply nodded toward her seat. Nessa gave her a quiet, grateful smile.
She liked Mrs. Dutton sometimes. Though Math still made her want to scream.
Sliding into her usual seat, she ignored the subtle glance from the new boy across the room. His gaze lingered longer than it should have, but she pretended not to notice. Rumor had it he came from money some well known family with connections and a big house on the edge of town. Nessa didn't care. She ignored rumors. Ignoring things was easier.
She pressed her nail into the side of her thumb until it broke the skin and a tiny drop of blood welled up. It was the only way she could focus sometimes especially during math.
She sat up straighter, pretending to follow the new equation on the board, but her thoughts drifted.
What if I forgot the bag at home? Could I really be losing it that bad?
She was sure she'd grabbed it this morning.
Shifting in her seat, she felt something brush her leg. She looked down and blinked.
There it was.
Stuffed awkwardly into the cubby under her desk her bag.
Relief rushed through her. She slid it out slowly, not wanting to draw attention. Unzipping it, she quickly checked to make sure everything was still there.
Her heart skipped.
Instead of the five-dollar bill she thought she'd grabbed for the school bookstore, a crisp $100 bill was folded neatly in the front pocket.
Her mouth fell open for a second before she caught herself, biting her lip hard. Oh my God. She must've taken the wrong bill from her mom's purse.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
She shoved the money back into her bag and glanced around, cheeks burning. No one seemed to notice except maybe the new boy.
He looked up just as she looked away.