Page 16 of Justice

But my science teacher said I needed to come in to learn the specific instructions for some of the science experiments.

“Are you okay?” he asks me, and I take my eyes away from some of the students that are walking around in the courtyard.

“Just nervous. I didn’t leave school on the best terms,” I tell him as I gather my courage.

“I’m going to go in with you,” he declares, and walks over to the passenger side to help me out.

My nerves have my skin tingling with anxiety as I take his outstretched hand, and we walk hand in hand into the school.

As we approach the front desk, the familiar face of Mrs. Simmons greets us with a smile. Her eyes flicker between Christopher and me, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. She waves us through without a word, her nod of recognition a silent acknowledgment of our presence.

It’s so eerie to be back here as I notice a few of the students in the hallway staring at me.

As we walk, the hushed whispers and not-so-subtle stares of my former classmates follow us like a wave. I catch snippets of their conversations, my name repeated in low tones that set my teeth on edge.

"Is that Elle?"

"I thought she dropped out…"

Christopher tucks me into his side like he can shield me from their looks and gossip.

"You okay, angel?" he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

I nod, not trusting my voice. The lump in my throat threatens to choke me as we pass a group of girls I once called friends. Their eyes widen as they spot me, a mix of shock and something that looks like jealously and anger, maybe?

Memories flood back. The day I told them what happened, my voice shaking as I poured out my heart. Their initial shock and sympathy that quickly morphed into disbelief and judgment. The whispered accusations of attention-seeking, of being dramatic. The way they slowly but surely pulled away, leaving me alone when I needed them most.

When they threw up the fact that shit happens when you’re drunk and a ton of people don’t remember what happens after the fact.

"Drama queen," I hear one of them whisper, the words cutting through the air like a knife.

Christopher's body goes rigid beside me, his muscles tensing like a coiled spring. I can feel the anger radiating from him, his jaw clenched so tight I worry he might crack a tooth. For a moment, I think he might let it go, but then one of the girls—Erika, I think—lets out a cruel little laugh.

"Look at her, pretending to be all grown up with her boyfriend," she sneers, loud enough for us to hear. "As if getting knocked up makes her special."

Christopher's eyes, usually warm when they look at me, have turned to chips of ice as he glares at the group of girls.

"What did you just say?" he growls loudly.

The girls freeze, their smug expressions faltering as they take in Christopher's imposing form. He towers over them, muscles taut beneath his shirt.

"N-nothing," one of them stammers, but it's too late.

Christopher takes a step forward, and I can feel the barely contained fury radiating from him in waves. "You think this is funny?" he snarls. "You think what happened to Elle is a joke?"

The hallway has gone deathly quiet, every eye fixed on the unfolding scene.

I want to shrink into myself, to disappear, but Christopher's arm around me keeps me anchored.

"You call yourselves her friends?" he continues, his voice rising. "Where the fuck were you when she needed you? When she was scared and alone and hurting?"

One of the girls, Amber, finds her voice. "We didn't know?—"

"Bullshit!" Christopher roars, making everyone flinch. "You knew. You just didn't care. You were too fucking worried about your precious reputations to stand by her." He takes another step forward, and the girls instinctively back away. "Let me make something very clear," he says, his voice dropping to a menacing tone. "If I ever hear you talking shit about Elle again, if I even catch you looking at her the wrong way, you'll regret it. Do you understand me?"

The girls nod frantically, their faces pale with fear. Christopher's not done, though. He turns, addressing the gathering crowd of students.

"That goes for all of you," he announces. "Elle is under my protection. Anyone who has a problem with her has a problem with me. And trust me, you don't want that."

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