I slide to the floor, back against the shelf.
I force myself to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
My body doesn’t listen. It never does. The memories claw up. The migraine-bright lights in the locker hall. How Ryan always seemed to know my schedule.
I stumble to the men’s room and lock myself inside a cubicle.
I retch, but nothing comes out.
Just tears, and eventually snot running down my face.
*****
“Hey, freak.”
Ryan and his little gang formed a half-circle around me.
I tried to get to my locker.
He blocked me.
I stepped left, he followed.
His minions laughed.
“What a loser.”
I stood frozen, escaping to some corner in my mind where it didn’t hurt somuch.
The first shove pushed me against the locker.
Great Expectations—Nonno’s gift, my favorite novel—slid across the floor.
Someone kicked it down the hall, laughing.
The second shove slammed my head back.
I closed my eyes. It was easier that way.
Someone jeered.
“He’s crying already!”
When it ended, a girl handed me my book without meeting my gaze.
I didn’t return to class.
I went to the park, sat by the pond, and watched ducks glide over the surface.
The water looked peaceful.
There was a sign warning about its dangerous depth, but to me, the signalmost read like an invitation.
It wasn’t the first time I thought about how easy it would be to step in.
It was the first time I almost did.
