Page 418 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

My voice is thick when I finally manage to speak. “Iknowwho did it. And I know why.”

This is met with silence. I look at my mom, and then at Wayne. Not a sympathetic face in sight. I guess it didn’t help that I’d started yelling at the principal after they’d herded me into his office and accused me of setting fire to my own locker.

“Well?” Mom snaps. “Tell us then.”

“It’s a boy in school. He…he hates me.”

“What did you do to him?” Wayne asks.

I surge to my feet. “Why are you blaming me?”

“You must have done something to upset him if you say he hates you.”

Good God, I can’t stand how patronizing Mr. Dearth is being right now.

“He wanted to…sleep with me.” I choke on the word as I hug myself hard. My cheeks are blood-red, my chest so tight I can’tbreathe. I look at the table rather than trying to look at either of them. I wave a hand, trying to be glib. Failing. “This is what happens when you say no.”

Mr. Dearth stands and comes around the table to me. “Why didn’t you tell the principal this?”

“He wouldn’t listen.” As soon as he lays an arm over my shoulder, the walls I’d built up inside collapse. I let out a sob and turn into his chest. “I swear, Mr. Dearth, I didn’t do it.”

It’s the first time Wayne has ever held me. I thought it would be comforting, but he just stands there, steely and silent. It’s like trying to find comfort in a telephone pole.

“Do you have proof?”

I step back from Mr. Dearth and blink away my tears so I can focus on my mom. I get that she’s angry, but why is she treating me like this? “What?”

She waves a hand, eyebrows cocking up. “Do you really expect us to take your word? You’ve already missed five days of school, Harper. The principal tells me you’re failing science. If you keep this up, you’ll have to repeat the year.”

“Enough,” my stepdad says, his voice low in warning. “Go fetch Jude.” This he directs at my mother.

A vicious hand squeezes my heart. “Jude? Why?”

“Only one way we’re going to clear this up.”

“You seriously don’t believe me?”

“I believe in getting both sides of the story.”

I’m still gaping at him when Jude steps into the kitchen. My mother’s behind him, eyes slit like she’s ready for a fight. What the actual fuck is going on here? Why will no one believe me?

“Harper says she didn’t set the fire in her locker,” Wayne says.

Jude watches his dad for a second. “It wasn’t the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

“Liar!” I surge forward, shoving Jude hard against his chest. “You tell them what really happened!”

But Jude remains silent.

Wayne just watches.

And my mom starts shaking her head.

“I was with—” I point at Jude, but a sob cuts me off with brutal efficiency.

“Next time you want attention, just dye your hair pink or something,” Jude says, tutting me with his eyes. “Someone could’ve gotten hurt.”

I let out a wordless scream and race out of the kitchen. I know I should stay, should make them realize Jude’s lying…but I can barelybreathelet alone argue.

---