Page 78 of Organized Chaos
Well, he wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time, Chris was even a bully.Mybully, to be specific.
How the tides had turned.
***
“FREAK.”
I frowned at Chris Allen, who yelled from across the church parking lot. We had only just joined this church, but that guy already had it out for me.
Whatever.
Bullies bored me. They were never shrewd enough for the title, and their insults were uninspired. Freak? It’s like he wasn’t even trying.
Typically, I’d attend church with Dad, but he was working. It wasn’t ideal to attend solo, but at least Milo was nearby. He was doing a group project and dropped me off before meeting with them at a nearby café. While I waited for him to pick me up, I decided to spend the time with some... people watching.
I had once told Brandon that I didn’t know how to act normal. Following my admission, I thought he’d give me the same spiel I got from Raven, Reid, and Milo. Something about being yourself to win everyone over.
But as usual, Brandon was the only one to tell me the truth. He had leaned over and whispered, “Fake it till you make it.”
It took me a long time to understand his words. I had to mimic others by watching them, at least until the behaviors were ingrained enough for me to become natural at it.
Ignoring Chris’ jab, I resumed watching the girls with excellent posture. They also attended church service today and wandered off afterward, searching for a cab.
The early afternoon sun beat down my face. Squinting my eyes, I concentrated against the bright light to make out the two figures in the distance. Both girls were in their early twenties, well put together, and even from here, I could tell they were demure.
I pulled my shoulders back to imitate their postures, speaking to the invisible air around me with the gestures they were making.
“Ow!”
A sharp pain shot through my scalp, making me turn in that direction. A handful of my pigtail was in Chris Allen’s burly grip. He tugged on it until I was forced to face him. “I said,” he closed in, “freak.”
“I heard you.” I jerked my hair out of his hold and took a step back. “I have just been called a lot worse by a lot better.”
Chris frowned, trying to dissect the insult. His face twisted when he understood it.
“You think you’re better than the rest of us?” he asked, voice low as he gained toward me. Despite his respectable church attire, he looked threatening of a white button-down shirt and gray slacks.
My eyes sifted through the empty parking lot. Where were his parents? Most of the congregation seemed to have left as well. Smoothing down the skirt of my yellow dress, I tried to tamper my fear.
I muttered a quick prayer under my breath, hoping Milo could somehow hear it.
“Let me tell you something, freak,” Chris continued. “I’ve seen you stare at everyone at this church like a creep, muttering God knows what to yourself. If you do that one more time, AHHH—”
Chris’ was cut off mid-sentence, body levitating. Milo held Chris’ shirt collar with one hand, dangling him in thin air. The sun shone behind his head, creating a halo effect. Like a savior, a messiah, Milo was surrounded by the light.
“What are you doing?” Chris yelled. “Put me down.”
“Did I just hear you threaten my sister?” Milo asked evenly in the way he did before unleashing hell’s fury on someone.
I very much doubted Milo would let Chris go. Not after catching him red-handed in the middle of pushing me around. However, we were in a house of worship. My brother might not believe in it, but I didn’t want his eternal soul to burn in hell.
“Milo,” I hissed. “What are you doing? Put him down.”
“No,” Milo replied simply without bothering to spare me a glance. He was staring at Chris, wondering what to do with him. “Kid, where are your parents?”
Chris only struggled harder. A ripping sound emerged from his shirt, no doubt tearing under Milo’s grip.
“They went home,” Chris snapped. He seemed unapologetic, intent on further inciting Milo’s wrath.
