Maybe I’m too special, but being special doesn’t feel good anymore. If I could trade it for a friend, I would. Just a friend. Just one. That’s all I want.
For a while, I thought Vincent might be that friend. But I was wrong.
School started two weeks ago, and he hasn’t spoken to me since my birthday on August 7. It’s been over a month since he moved in next door, adopted by the Coopers. I tried asking him to play in the backyard with me dozens of times and he always refused.
At my birthday party, he was the only kid who came—because his parents were invited. None of my classmates showed up. That hurt, but at least it meant Vincent wouldn’t be surrounded by strangers. I thought that would make it easier for him.
Dad tried so hard to make it special. He bought a two-tier strawberry-and-cream cake with purple frosting and sprinkles and grilled ribs in the backyard. Grandma came with Olivia and the Coopers came with Daniel’s homemade lasagna.
I wore a pink princess dress, a plastic tiara, and rainbow doodles up my arms. I told myself it would be perfect, but my mother was in one of her moods. She hated that only Vincent’s family was there. She wouldn’t let me ask him to play and, whenI forgot about her warnings and tried to ask him to play with me, her nails dug into my arm.
And then, during lunch, everything shattered. I poured barbecue sauce on my plate, and Vincent started screaming.
He covered his head, sobbing, rocking, clawing at his arms. His parents rushed in. Daniel whispered to him while Chris pulled out a dropper and slipped something onto his tongue. Slowly, his breathing calmed.
Before leaving, Vincent looked at me. His eyes burned with something I didn’t understand—resentment, disappointment. Then he clutched his parents’ wrists and walked away. Since then, he hasn’t spoken to me. Hasn’t even looked at me.
At school, he sits in front of me, quiet, small, shaking when he writes. I can’t focus on the lessons—I only watch him, wondering what’s in his head.
This morning, I find him sitting on a bench with his sandwich, headphones in, when Dustin and his friends circle around. James, Alison, Seth and Rosie. My least favorite people in the whole world.
Now I know why they hadn’t come for me yet.
“Hey, Cooper! Or should I say Bogdanov?” Dustin sneers.
Vincent doesn’t react. He chews slowly, eyes fixed on the ground.
“Don’t they teach you in the orphanage to answer when spoken to?” James shoves his shoulder, knocking his headphones to the dirt. “Maybe if we tossed him a cookie, he’d bark. Just like his father trained him.”
That makes Vincent freeze and his legs start to shake. The sandwich squishes in his hands. Finally, he mutters, low and rough, “Why don’t you shut your damn mouth?”
The group bursts out laughing. “So he talks,” Seth jeers. “Thought you only barked.”
Vincent stands. His fists tremble. His voice cuts sharper this time: “I simply don’t waste my voice on assholes.”
“Then come with us,” Rosie smirks. “We’ll have fun.”
“With you? I’d rather roll in my own shit.”
In just a second they grab him. Dustin on one side, James on the other. Vincent fights, but he’s small, too small, and they hold him like it’s nothing. He doesn’t even yell. He just looks at me from where I’m hiding. His eyes are sharp and scared and they tell medon’t move.He shakes his head, quick, like a secret signal just for me.
But when they drag him toward a hidden alley, I follow anyway. I creep behind them, quiet as I can. My knees shake, but I don’t stop. I don’t care that Vincent told me not to. I don’t like to do what I’m told—especially when what I’m told is to do nothing. I want to help him, because no one ever helped me.
They slam him against the wall. Alison slaps him. Rosie yanks his hair. “Still feel like talking, Bogdanov?”
Vincent doesn’t react. He just takes it, jaw clenched. Until Seth steps forward and slaps him. Then, like something inside him snaps, Vincent breaks free and smashes his fist into Seth’s jaw. For a moment, hope sparks in me. But they’re too many. They pin him again.
“Bark, Bogdanov. Be a dog like your father taught you.”
That’s when I can’t hold back anymore. “Leave him alone!”
They all spin around. Even Vincent looks at me, his hazel eyes red and wet, like he’s mad I showed up.
“Nova? What are you doing here?” James snaps. His lip curls like I’m something gross he stepped in. “Go away.”
“No.”
I step forward, arms wide, shielding Vincent where he’s slumped against the wall. “If you want to hurt someone, hurt me. Leave my best friend alone.”
