I scrubbed at the same patch of mud on my shirt, over and over, my hand trembling harder with each pass.
Why me?
Why always me?
I’ve been nothing but nice. No, worse. I’ve beennothing at all. Quiet, small, invisible. Air. That’s what I should be. So why am I not air tohim? Why, out of everyone, did I attract someone like him?
My chest ached as I bit my lip, holding in the sound clawing its way up my throat.
I was tired.
Sotired.
The same routine, the same humiliation, the same silence. Over and over until it broke me. All of that just to end up here.Alone.
A knock at the door jolted me out of my spiral. I froze, heart hammering, before forcing myself to move.
I unlocked the door and peeked out. Empty. Just a stack of fabric in front of me. I stepped closer, hesitating. A note sat on top in neat handwriting:Wear this.
I glanced down the hall just in time to see someone turn the corner, brown hair swishing behind her. Too quick to catch who it was.
I grabbed the clothes and slipped back inside, shutting the door and twisting the lock tight. My hands shook as I set it on the counter. I didn’t move; I just stared at it.
Black leggings sat on top, crumpled as if they’d been dragged out of lost and found. Above them was a hoodie.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
But it did.
Because I looked familiar.
The same cloud as the hoodie I’d seen earlier, poking out of the middle girl’s bag.
Why? Why give this to me?
All this time, all the torture I endured…I had never had someone want to step in and help me before. So who was this? Who would bring me this? The same people who saw me suffer, never helped, then suddenly feel bad and want to? Or no, maybe it was pity.
Pity.
Odd, no one had ever pitied me before.
They just…don’t care.
I shook off those thoughts and peeled my mud-soaked shirt over my head, the heavy fabric slapping the tiles when I kicked it aside. My jeans followed, sticky with filth. Mud clung to my legs, streaking down my skin, so I turned the faucet on and scrubbed hard, determined not to stain what didn’t belong to me.
When I finally pulled the clean clothes on, the softness of the fabric made me freeze. My mind, traitor that it was, wandered back to the three girls.
They’d wanted attention earlier. I was sure of it. Saving me in front of everyone.
My throat tightened.Was it… them?
I blinked away the thought and crouched, shoving my ruined clothes into my bag. Luckily, nothing important was inside, just stationery, nothing that couldn’t be wiped clean later.
Straightening, I faced the mirror.
For a second, I barely recognised myself. The mud was gone. The leggings fit perfectly, slightly smooth now that they were on me. The hoodie was warm; it swallowed me, but it was warm. Ilooked… decent. As if nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t just been dragged through the dirt in front of half the campus.
The illusion felt fragile, but I smoothed the hoodie down anyway, pulling in one last breath before unlocking the door and stepping back out.
