The week after Tasha gave me the drawing felt like a fragile kind of peace, like we were walking on glass, hoping it wouldn't crack. Every moment with her was brighter now. She'd reach for my hand in class. We'd walk home talking like we used to, laughing softly. It felt like something broken was starting to heal. But not everyone wanted that healing.
Derrick had become a shadow in my day. Everywhere I turned, he was there. Leaning against walls, arms folded. Laughing a little too loudly when I passed. I started finding strange things in my locker: crumpled notes that said, "Watch your back," torn pages from my notebook, and once, a black marker line through my name on the class chart.
I tried to ignore it, to stay focused on school, on Tasha, on peace. But then came Friday. We had a group presentation in History. I was meant to lead our slides from the computer room. I'd worked all week on it, hours of research, diagrams, and everything lined up perfectly.
When I got there, the file was gone. I stood frozen, staring at the empty folder. Then I heard laughter behind me. Derrick, leaning against the doorframe. "Heard you were top of the class. Must be hard when things vanish, huh?" My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. But I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I just walked past. But the damage was done.
Later that day, Imelda found me outside, sitting on the bleachers, head in my hands.
"I heard about the file," she said softly.
I nodded, too tired to speak.
She sat beside me, her presence quiet but solid.
"Did Derrick do it?" she asked after a while.
I hesitated. Then nodded. "He's been… messing with me. Since Elijah got suspended. It's like they've teamed up or something."
Imelda flinched, then looked away. "He's angry. He says I've changed. That I'm not 'his girl' anymore."
Her voice caught on the last words.
"You're not his anything," I said gently. "You never were a possession."
She looked at me, eyes filling with something between guilt and clarity. "He thinks I'm choosing you."
I didn't say anything.
She whispered, "Maybe I am."
That evening, the sky opened up with a thunderstorm. Rain lashed the windows, thunder cracked the silence, and I couldn't sleep. I kept hearing Derrick's voice. Elijah's threats. Imelda's whisper. Tasha's quiet bravery. Everything colliding.
Then my phone buzzed.
Tasha:I heard what Derrick did. Are you okay?
Me:Yeah. Just tired.
Tasha:I wish I was with you. I hate that you have to deal with this.
Me:You being in my life is what's keeping me strong.
Tasha:Kerif… I love you. I think I always have.
I stared at those words, everything inside me lighting up.
Me:I love you too.
Monday came, and with it, a fight. Not physical, at least not yet. But loud. Public. We were in the schoolyard when Derrick cornered me in front of everyone.
"So you've got them both now, huh?" he shouted, voice echoing. "Tasha and Imelda? What's your plan, Kerif? Play the hero? Steal everyone's girl?"
People turned. The air stilled.
I stood up. "I didn't steal anyone. They made their own choices. You just don't know how to accept that."
That was when Elijah stepped out of the crowd, arms crossed, smirking.
"You two think you're some kind of saints?" he sneered. "This school's full of snakes pretending to be angels."
Tasha stepped out from the crowd then, calm but fierce.
"We're not pretending," she said. "We're just done being afraid."
Imelda followed her, standing between me and Derrick.
"I'm not yours, Derrick," she said, voice trembling but sure. "I never was. And I'm not scared of you anymore."
The whole yard was watching now. Derrick looked from Imelda to me, his jaw tight, chest heaving. Then he turned and stormed off, shoving past Elijah. Elijah glared at me once more.
"This isn't over," he hissed.
Maybe it wasn't. But in that moment, surrounded by those who stood with me, I felt something I hadn't in weeks. Peace.