Page 13 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

My skin crawls at the thought.

He pushes open the door. A wave of chaotic noise and intoxicating smells wash over me. Reuben releases me and steps through. The door almost crashes into my face as it swings back on a hydraulic hinge. I catch it just in time. When I push it open, Reuben’s disappeared into the bustle of boys moving around as they go to find their seats.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice me standing here.

The crowd thins at just the right time, creating an open channel to the far side of the room. Call it a miracle, but through some disturbance in the fabric of the universe, I spot Jasper. He’s sitting at the end of one of the long benches chatting with the boy sitting opposite him.

Just another boy in a room filled with boys. But at least I know his name. At least he didn’t just murder me with his eyes.

I push back my shoulders and head for the edges of the room, trying to find the most inconspicuous way to reach him.

Definitely not the welcome I was expecting.

Jasper does a double-take when he sees me standing beside him. It took every bit of courage I had to walk through the bustling hall and make my way over here. Even more to detour and grab a plate of food. I was expecting some kind of buffet line, where staff in hair nets dished up whatever you wanted onto your plate. Instead, I had to grab the second-last food tray covered in plastic wrap from a nearby counter.

Today’s lunch is thin stew and bread.

This place is really starting to remind me of a prison.

Jasper sits back, the hand holding his fork sagging. “What are you doing here?” he whispers furtively.

“Eating?” I grip my tray a little harder. The closest boys turn to stare at me. Those next to them look, then the next, then the next.

Everyone is watching me.

The entire dining hall is silent.

Dear Lord.

“Can you move up a little?” I ask quietly as my cheeks heat up.

“Fuck off,” Jasper says under his breath, glancing askance at the kid next to him like he’s embarrassed by my presence.

I grit my teeth. “Please?”

He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on his plate. I glance around in panic and spot a gap at the table next to us.

Before I get there, the gap disappears.

Now my cheeks are on fire.

It feels like every boy in this room is staring at me but when I look around no one meets my eye.

Screw this.

My nose can’t go any higher into the air, so I push back my shoulders and strut down the middle of the room like I belong here.

Technically, I do. I’m a student here as much as any of these pricks. They have no right to treat me like a turd.

Despite my flaming cheeks, or the way my skin is intent on crawling right the fuck off me, I make it all the way to the other side of the room without wetting myself. I push open the door, my heart thundering in my chest as the door hisses closed behind me.

Relief is brief, but delicious. The plastic wrap has crept up at one edge of my tray, and I catch a whiff of the food beneath. It doesn’t look like much, but it sure smells good enough to eat.

You can do this, Trinity Malone.

One day at a time, same as before. One day at a time, one after the other, thy kingdom come, thy will be done.

A-fucking-men.

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