Now, I don’t even think about him when he’s not around. I get to play house, and pretend my father isn’t probably on some bender and out of his mind as he terrorizes the local bartenders.
It’s been a change of pace, and I’ve used my free time to pour my effort into my valedictorian speech. I’ve perfected it, but writing it was the easiest part. The real test is here, and I think I’m going to hurl as the gymnasium fills with seniors. I’m behind the stage’s curtain, gripping my speech so tightly that I’m creasing the paper.
There’s a sweat building on my brow, and I keep my eyes trained on the floor as I wait for our principal to finish her announcements as she paces the center stage. I’m not good at public speaking, but Charlie’s pointers keep circling my head.
Find a spot above the crowd to stare at.
Focus on your speech and let everything else take a backseat.
Easy enough for her to say. She isn’t the one speaking in front of hundreds of students. Even if she were, I’m sure shewould kill it.
I’m the problem. Anything that puts me in the spotlight causes me to lock up. I have glassophobia, and this is my living nightmare.
I can’t shake the nerves buzzing under my skin, but I try to focus on my achievement rather than the paralyzing fear of speaking in front of hundreds of people.
I’m so wrapped up in thinking of how I’m going to walk the stage at graduation without tripping over my own two feet that I don’t register the crowding presence at my back until it’s too late.
“Dirt.”
Kairo’s voice makes me cringe as I whip around with wide eyes. All three of them surround me, and Maddox stands at the head of their pack. He’s holding his speech in one hand and a cup from the cafeteria in the other as he stares at me with narrowed eyes filled with a profound emotion that teeters on disdain.
He doesn’t look happy.
I take a cautious step back, my words tumbling. “H-hi?”
“Don’t look so nervous,” Roman croons as he tilts his head. “We just wanted to congratulate you.”
Somehow, I don’t believe that as I take another small step back. They close in, suffocating me until all I can see or hear is them.
The nape of my neck prickles with awareness, and breathing becomes impossible as their cologne smothers me. I lift my hands as if I can stop whatever they have planned, but I’m no match for them.
“Congrats,” Maddox bites ominously before tossing the glass of water onto the front of my pants.
I gasp as the cold seeps through the front of my jeans, creeping down my legs like melting ice. Glancing down, my face flushes with heat, mortified by what it must look like.
Roman pushed forward, backing me further onto the stage as he sneers. “You deserve this.”
He shoves me back with full force, slamming the air from my lungs as I crash onto my side on the stage—right in full view of the students packed into the bleachers.
There’s a beat of silence as I lift myself onto shaky arms. I stare at the stage, my eyes wide and unseeing as my heart feels like it’s going to explode in my chest. The sounds around me slow painfully until all I can hear is my ragged, gasping breaths.
“Dirt pissed herself!” Someone in the audience shouts, and loud, echoing laughter shakes the gym.
Shame burns deep in my gut, and tears sting my eyes as they rise. I can’t hold back the broken sob that rips from my throat, raw and loud, as everything around me shatters. I’m sobbing—I know I am—but I can’t even hear myself over the cruel laughter echoing around me. It all blurs together. The pain, the noise, the humiliation. They feed off each other in some sick, twisted harmony, and the harder I cry, the louder my peers seem to laugh. I try to stand, trembling, but the weight of it all presses down, making every action feel like dragging myself through pins and needles.
I’m spiraling.
I-I need to get away.
Mrs. Hurst storms past me, but I only faintly register her heels as they click angrily against the stage. Her voice rises over the crowd as she reprimands my bullies, but I don’t stick around to hear.
The moment I can take a step without my knees buckling, I sprint off the stage, and I don’t look back.
I stare into the medicine cabinet’s mirror in my dingy bathroom. The yellow lights overhead flicker, a clear sign that the power may go out at any moment, but I don’t care.
All I can focus on are my swollen, puffy, and bloodshot eyes. I ran straight home after the speech incident and didn’t stop until I closed myself in the trailer. The moment I wasalone, I fell to my knees in shambles. Every scream and sob was confined to these walls, contained and bleeding my agony back to me in haunting echoes. I screamed until my throat scratched and my voice cracked. I cried until there was nothing left but a heavy weight on my chest, and bitter resentment curling around my psyche.
Now, I’m left staring at everything that reminds me of her.
