"Stuck in a life that I didn't want anyway... One of these days, yeah, I might just disappear, And you won't even know."

[Song: "Norman Rockwell"- The Mowgli's]

RECAP:

High school senior Naomi Lorraine has only her wit and sharp mouth to fight against the insults and bruises Dartwell High gives her. All in one day, she finds herself meeting the three mysterious senior transfer students: Bennett Frazier, Jordan Wallace, and Declan Lynch. Bennett saw that she got a sign stuck on her back that read "Kill Yourself", Jordan is her new lab partner in AP Physics, and Declan defended her against some guys in soccer (or "football", but this is America. Don't @ me).

Naomi found a note left by Jordan in her textbook inviting her to meet with them on Saturday at Starbooks, a famous coffee chain everyone obviously knows. However, since she values her life, she didn't go. Now she has to see if she still has a life to live when she comes back to school on Monday.

~

"Well, would you look at that," someone mused. "She's trying to fight back."

"It's kinda sad if you ask me," his friend said with a laugh.

I struggled under his strong grasp, but it was a wasted effort as he held my arms behind my back. Even though he was one grade below me, the sixth-grader was still stronger than me. I hated middle school. I hated myself. Too small. Too weak.

"You should've done our book reports like we asked," he sneered. "Hopefully after this, you'll learn your lesson."

"You're Asian aren't ya?" His friend asked, walking towards me. He grabbed a clump of my hair, forcing me to look up to him. "Why not try to do some karate and-"

I didn't let him finish when I kicked him right between the legs. As he crumpled onto the floor, I didn't give his friend a chance to react when I knocked my head back and he yelled at the impact. Pushing me away, I stumbled forward and my hand went up to the back of my head that was throbbing from the backward headbutt.

Once I regained my balance, I moved to run away but was shoved onto the floor. Looking up, the two of them towered over me with the rage clear on their faces. I knew that however they were going to beat me up was going to be much worse.

I did learn my lesson that day.

I should never fight back.

I sat up in my bed and let out a tired yawn. I blindly patted for my phone on my nightstand and was able to find it. I turned it on and winced as my phone's bright screen blinded my weary eyes. I woke up before my alarm again.

With my eyes still closed, I dragged myself out of bed and used my arms to guide me to my bathroom. I'm going to give my eyes a little more time to adjust as an apology for my biological clock waking up before my mechanical one. I heard my phone alarm go off. And there's my mechanical one.

"Ow," I grumbled as I bumped my shoulder against the doorway.

I blindly patted the wall until I found the switch and turned on the lights.

"Ow," I grumbled again as I opened my eyes, then being met with the glory of artificial lighting.

Once my eyes adjusted after blinking a few times, I took off my bracelet that hung tightly on my left wrist and placed it on the counter. My grandmother gave me the bracelet when I was twelve. It was after I got my first period and she gave it to me as a reward for now becoming a woman. It was an adjustable brown leather bracelet with a simple tribal design, worn with age but I have been taking good care of it.

Armed with a brush, I fought to calm down my brownish-black hair. It was hard to manage my long frizzy locks that always managed to find ways to make knots in it. I tied my hair into a loose bun, washed my face, and brushed my teeth.

I leaned over the sink, squinted at the mirror, and softly touched my left cheek.

"Damn, you can still see it," I muttered to myself.

Last week, some girl slapped me when I accidentally spilled some water on her shirt. And yes, it was an accident although she was a bully of mine. I was drinking from my water bottle when someone bumped into me from behind. The slap left clear scratches from her nails.

I took out the small bag from my drawer and began applying some makeup. It took a hundred WeTube makeup tutorials to master the mystic art of makeup. I always go for the natural makeup routine after I made the mistake of trying something heavier and became the laughing stock of the girls locker room in middle school. I've been using makeup for years now to hide any bruises or scars I got. It took a couple of tries, but I was able to find my skin tone - based on make-up terms - was a "honey" which is great because I enjoy adding actual honey in my tea.

I got most of my looks from my mother including my wavy hair and skin tone while what I inherited from my father were his hair color and light brown eyes. The compromise between them was my height at 5'3" or 160 cm. My father always complained about how I chose my mother over him before I was even born. My mother always responded that I made the right choice and got the better deal.

I'm half Filipino-Hawaiian on my mother's side while my father is of Irish and French descent. My ancestors left the Philippines because there was available work at the sugar plantations in Hawaii. When my grandparents moved to America for more work, they had my mother. My parents met each other in college, with my mother studying nursing and my father studying accounting, and the rest is history.

I checked myself in the mirror and nodded in approval. Maybe I should look into a career as a makeup guru. I then tied my grandmother's bracelet back on my left wrist, tightly to keep it in place.

Then I put on my glasses that were on the counter, fixing my nearsightedness. I have tried contacts before but they were uncomfortable and I couldn't focus in class or study well with them. When I wore the contacts, so many people made fun of me for "trying" to look prettier and bullied me more than when I wore my glasses. From that, I figured I would just wear my glasses instead.

I slightly lifted up my shirt and pinched my belly. For once, my bullies were right, I should lose some weight. I turned slightly around and frowned at my pear figure, the unsightly curve of my waist down to my hips and thighs, which confirmed my belief. Then lifting my pajama shorts, I grimaced at the sight of the stretch marks on the sides of my bottom. Letting go of the fabric, I lied to myself that it was the wrinkle of my shorts that made such marks. I couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of me judging myself too.

After dressing up and grabbing my backpack, I went down to the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat before I left for school.

"Good morning!" I said brightly. "Ooh, eggs and spam on pandesal," I said, snatching one from the plate. "I feel spoiled. Thanks, mom."

"You're late to work, Laura," my father told her before taking a sip of his coffee.

"I didn't know I married a reminder app," my mother said, rolling her eyes before turning to me. "We still have rice and leftovers from last night if you're hungry when you come back from school."

"You should go before you're late for your shift again," I said before taking a bite of my breakfast.

"I didn't know I gave birth to a reminder app," my mother said with an exasperated sigh before smiling.

She began walking towards the door, checking inside her purse to make sure she had everything. "Nolan, don't forget to call the plumber." She suddenly stopped. "Oh no, I'm a reminder app." She laughed then called out as she left out the door, "Love you two!"

"You sure you don't want me to drive you to school, Naomi?" My father asked as he put on his jacket.

I fought back the grimace as I imagined my father's car getting pummeled by eggs and him seeing me bullied the moment I left the car.

"You already know my school is in the opposite direction of your and mom's work," I told him with a smile. "Plus it's my only daily exercise since I completed my P.E. credit."

He smiled back. "Well if you're ever feeling lazy, remember that I'm your personal chauffeur. It's in the job description of being a father."

-

I closed my locker door shut and flinched at the sight.

"Oh God," I sputtered.

Closing my locker revealed Jordan who was casually leaning against the lockers beside mine. His arms folded across his chest as he wore an annoyed look on his face. I've always seen him with a smile on his face that it seemed like it was his natural resting face. However, it was almost chilling seeing him scowling with his green eyes, now a shade darker, narrowed at me.

"Good morning," Jordan said curtly.

"Good morning... " I responded slowly, my eyes shifted away as I tried to find a way to escape.

He pushed himself off the wall and took a step towards me making me back up in response. "Did you have a nice weekend?" Jordan questioned, his voice sounding tense.

Define nice. My weekend was a loop of me completing my schoolwork or trying to find something to do which involved either eating junk food or science documentaries. Of course, it was all I could do to stop me from falling into some sort of void.

Before I could respond with a more cheerful lie, Jordan continued. "Because I would've had one if a certain someone showed up when invited," he said lowly.

I felt a chill down my spine. And there it was. I have made myself another enemy. An enemy who will be my lab partner for the rest of the year. A fitting punishment for myself.

Suddenly, someone passed by me and effortlessly grabbed Jordan by his backpack, making him stumble backward. Jordan turned around and the person held onto his backpack and pushed him forward to make him keep walking.

"You're scaring her," Declan grumbled.

Declan turned his head slightly and gave me a small glance that allowed me to see the bruise on his left cheek. Where did he get that?

The bell rang for the first class and I already knew it was going to be a long day.

I hated coming to this school with such a small graduating class. There may have been the advantage of having teachers that knew you for individual learning as well as having fewer bullies to deal with compared to being in a larger school. However, the problem was my peers, more specifically, three of them.

I felt their eyes on me at all times. It was nerve-wracking knowing that everything I did or said was being observed.

I had Bennett for first period Independent Research. There was a girl who sat provocatively close to him as she talked his ear off. Bennett clearly ignored her and listened to the teacher, Ms. Kaito, save for the short glances he gave in my direction.

I did my best to ignore them as I wrote down the teacher's reminder to turn in the progress reports of our independent research projects by the end of the week and that we needed to prepare for an upcoming group project soon.

When class ended, Bennett and I awkwardly walked to our next class, which we had together. I knew he was walking alongside me on purpose because his walking stride was much longer than mine and he could've easily left me in the dust. I didn't know what his objective was but I was thankful he didn't try to strike up a conversation much less do anything as we walked.

Of course, I didn't blame him for not wanting to say anything to me. After all, the first time we met, he saw someone take the time to write to me a heartfelt letter telling me to kill myself. Most, if not all, people wouldn't know how to talk to someone after that.

At least everyone in the hall was too obsessed with him to bother me as we walked. I caught the whispers of the gossip and rumors about him. Such rumors rode on the same line that he was rich: he's the son of a powerful politician or rich diplomat, he's the heir of a huge fortune, or he came to this small school to hide from his enemies that are after his family's wealth. I glanced at Bennett and was astonished by how unfazed he was at the attention he was receiving. It was almost amusing how similar we were: I ignored the insults and he ignored the gossip.

"Hey!" I heard someone yell behind me.

I turned around and saw that Bennett had grabbed someone's arm that was outstretched towards me. Said arm was holding a piece of paper with tape on the upper end. The guy struggled under Bennett's grasp but his grip didn't falter. Bennett grabbed the paper from the person, quickly glanced on it, then handed it back to him.

"Put this on your chest," Bennett ordered him. "I don't want to see you take it off. You don't want me to see you take it off."

The person eagerly nodded, taped the paper that read Kick Me on his chest, then ran away.

When we continued walking, I felt everyone's stares in the hallway. It was clear that he just helped me. It was clear that we were walking beside each other. It was clear that they were going to hurt him for helping me.

Bennett looked in front of him, not paying any mind to the whispers and stares around us, or really, towards him. As much as I didn't want their help, I should still show a little gratitude.

I glanced at Bennett and muttered, "Thank you."

His eyes turned to look at me, piercing blue, achieving its goals to intimidate and scrutinize. It made me feel small, made me wish I said it more quietly, or did not say anything at all. I quickly turned away to look in front of me and we continued to walk to our next class in silence.

Second period was worse because I had all three of them for AP Language. We came up to the door of our next class at the same time. I kept my head low with my eyes on the ground as I slipped past them to go into the classroom.

They all sat at the same four-person table with the fourth seat empty because no one was bold or dumb enough to take it. It was obvious who the subject of their whisper of a conversation was as they kept glancing at me unless they were discussing the poster hanging above me that explained different figures of speech.

Seats weren't assigned but since we were this far into the first month of school these practically were our assigned seats. The people in my table were either too annoyed that they had sat with me but wouldn't risk doing anything in front of the teacher or were one of the few people who were too withdrawn to actually bully me.

I've had worse tablemates. There have been plenty of times I was at a table with people who all bullied me. Best-case scenario was that I did all the work so they wouldn't bully me.

Worse-case was that they still bullied me.

Once AP Language ended, now Declan and I were walking to our next class of AP Calculus. I knew Jordan wanted to walk with us, but Bennett grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away.

Declan was silent as we walked together and I was glad that I was on the side where I didn't have to see the bruise on his face. I wanted to ask him what happened but I didn't know what to say. How did he get that bruise on his face? He must have gotten it between the last time I saw him on Friday until now. Then I remembered that he set up a fight against Marco in the parking lot afterschool.

Lost in my thoughts, I came back to focus when I saw I was nearly going to bump into someone. I stepped away but he matched my movement. He roughly shoved my shoulder making me stumble back but at least not have my fall down. As my hand went up to nurse my shoulder, I shot the guy a glare.

He had the nerve to smirk. "You should watch where you're-"

However, he didn't get to finish as Declan shoved him back by pushing his chest with one hand. "From what I saw, you should watch where you're going," he said sharply.

Declan suddenly paused, glanced back at me, then looked back to the guy. He grumbled, "Keep walking while you still can."

When the guy left, now being sure to avoid everyone in his path, Declan turned and continued walking. I did my best to quicken my pace to catch up to him.

"Thank-"

"You don't have to thank me," he muttered.

What is with these transfer students and not wanting to be thanked?

"Not just about that, but also about... that," I finished lamely, silently praising myself for my mastery of the English language.

"Like I said," Declan maintained. "You don't have to thank me."

-

I set my lunch tray on the table and plopped into my seat. I heaved out a heavy sigh as I struggled with the plastic wrapping to open my spork, or if you prefer, fapoon to the fork-spoon hybrid.

"It's mac and cheese again."

I looked up and managed a small smile. "If you can call it that."

Erinma Aduba returned a faint smile before taking a sip of some apple juice. She's a quiet junior who transferred into Dartwell in her sophomore year. From one small conversation we had, she told me her parents were from Nigeria and they were from the Igbo tribe. She was born in America but she hopes to visit there one day.

I remember when I first met Erinma. She had just transferred to the school and I was walking down the hall when she passed by me. What struck me that made me glance back at her wasn't her light chestnut brown eyes that glinted when she laughed nor her dark brown skin that her friends complimented paired perfectly with her outfit- a simple long sleeve crop top and a patterned long skirt than hung over her ankles. No, it was neither of these. It was her hairstyle that she later informed me are space buns- the top of her head carefully braided and woven up to the double buns that held her natural curly black hair. They were cute, charming, and an envy of her friends. Although she doesn't change her hairstyles every so often, the fact that she was able to pull off so many different hairstyles became her signature look due to the number of different types of hairstyles she showcased- from locs and a coiled ponytail to freeing it and have it held back by a mere braid or hairband.

She wasn't always so quiet when she first started school, but her cheery nature wasn't given the warmest of welcomes. Most of her bullies hosted her welcoming parties in the girl's locker room when they insulted her beyond her personality and instead of how she looked and where her parents were from. I know, they were desperate, disgustingly desperate, to find something to hone on. The bullying persisted even after she tried to tell a teacher, perhaps even harsher than before.

It hurts knowing how it is. It hurts more seeing it happen. Thankfully, her bullies were also my own and they would usually take it out on me more. I can take it. I can always take it. I didn't want to know how it would be for her once I graduated. She knew it as well.

We had a mutual agreement although it was never spoken out loud. No one can be friends with me without being subjected to even more bullying and be able to take it. However, she didn't have any friends either. So we settled with sitting at the opposite ends of the same table at the corner of the cafeteria. We were able to enjoy each other's existence in that short period, that short break before we were thrown back into the cage.

Some jocks from the football team once again moved the cafeteria's trashcan next to our table. People passing by tossed their garbage in it, but would often miss and land on our table. I had to fight against gagging at the sight and smell. I just needed to eat as fast as possible so I can get out of here.

I heard a gasp. "No dreadlocks today, Erinma?" Some junior girl, Stella I believe, commented as she passed our table with her friends. "They were so lovely last week. Hopefully this time you actually wash the mop you call your hair and-"

My hands hit the table, cutting her off. "How about I wash your mouth with some soap?" I snapped at her.

She glared daggers at me before responding innocently, "I was just showing concern for my fellow classmate." She looked at Erinma and smiled. "After all, hygiene is a public service."

"The removal of your existence would be a greater one," I retaliated.

Stella opened her mouth but closed it when it seemed she couldn't find a better comeback. With a huff, she walked away with her friends following close behind.

Just once I wanted a peaceful lunch. However, hearing someone throw out an insult always managed to ruin my appetite. A racist one at that.

"You don't have to defend me, Naomi," Erinma told me quietly. "Stella is only going to get back at you later."

It was another unspoken agreement between us. Don't defend each other. It will only get worse, it always gets worse. Sadly, my smart mouth can sometimes be faster than my brain. After suffering from bullying for so long, hearing anything insulting bothered me.

"I don't care. I can... take it..." I faltered when I said that. Why did this conversation sound so familiar?

Only it was different. It had to be different. I deserved it after all. Why else would I have been suffering through this for so many years? There was obviously something wrong with me for them to keep bullying me since middle school.

"Besides," she said, her voice somehow even quieter, "We're not friends..."

I stared back at the bowl of pasta that was supposed to be mac and cheese. "Yeah, you're right."

As we began eating our lunches in silence, someone abruptly set their tray on the table making both me and Erinma jump in surprise.

"Oh God," I sputtered again.

Looking up, I saw Jordan standing at the other side of the table with Bennett and Declan beside him. He still wore a scowl at me- quite the welcoming sight.

I glanced at Erinma who looked at the three transfer students in awe or terror- maybe both.

Bennett turned to Erinma and asked, "May we sit-"

He didn't get to finish when Erinma quickly picked up her tray and speed-walked out of the cafeteria. I knew we weren't exactly friends but it would have been nice to have at least one witness who could explain who were the perpetrators of my mysterious disappearance.

"I'll take that as a yes," Bennett concluded before he sat down at the table.

I grabbed my backpack and picked up my tray.

"You're not going anywhere," Jordan said curtly, taking a seat right in front of me.

"It was worth a shot," I muttered mostly to myself as I put my stuff back down.

I glanced around the room and saw everyone else's stares on our table. People would only look at my table when someone is putting on a show for the whole school when bullying me. But to my dismay, I wasn't the focus of their attention. Quite the blow to the ego.

Everyone was staring at the three transfer students interacting with little old me. If the three of them noticed the stares, they did a good job of not showing it, perhaps being used to it.

"I'm going to assume that you did see the note I so cleverly put in your Physics textbook since we have a chapter quiz today," Jordan said hotly before saying through with gritted teeth, "which means that you ignored the note."

Seeing there was no point denying it I said, "If I may, I would like to know how the note found itself in-"

"I'm asking the important questions here," Jordan said, pointing his finger at me.

I fell silent.

"You stood us up," Jordan confronted me, crossing his arms when he said it.

It was funny the lack of standing on my part. Of course, there was a share of pacing in my room as I thought about it over. At one point I nearly left the door already dressed up ready to go. However, it ended with me lying on the floor watching the time on my phone to hit noon before curling myself into a ball.

"Technically, she stood you up," Declan muttered as he opened a milk carton, "but you made us come with you."

"That is not important," Jordan said, now pointing a finger at Declan before meeting him with a glaring match.

"Can you honestly blame me for not going?" I told Jordan, pushing my tray away as I had lost my appetite. "I mean Declan must have told..."

I faltered when I saw Bennett and Jordan look at Declan in confusion. Declan glared at his lunch tray. The poor tray.

"What is she talking about, Declan?" Bennett questioned.

Heat inflamed my cheeks when the realization hit me from Bennett's question. He didn't tell them? Of course, he didn't. What would he say?

Hey, the girl who we're supposed to meet up with actually got sexually harassed by a guy earlier so she probably doesn't want to meet up with three guys she has never talked to before.

It wasn't exactly a conversation starter.

Then there's the fact I've been bullied for several years on a daily basis. The only thing that has been keeping me alive is my common sense. I know a trap when I see one, and even if it wasn't, I still wouldn't risk it if I could live to see the next class lecture.

"The point is that you should stop being mad at her," Declan told Jordan. "You need to stop thinking everything's about you."

Jordan shot Declan a glare. "I know everything isn't about me," Jordan snapped at him. "Stop trying to twist this."

"The two of you need to calm down," Bennett told them, his voice even and stern. "We're making her uncomfortable, especially confronting her like this."

He was right. I felt sick. I didn't know what was happening or what to do. Before they could stop me a second time, I got my stuff and quickly left the table.

I already felt the stares from everyone that made it seem that the entire room was spinning. The whole scene wasn't exactly an everyday thing. My life was already spiraling out of control from the beginning of freshman year but those three transfer students just made it take a straight dive headfirst.

After tossing out the leftover contents of my lunch tray, I escaped the cafeteria. I decided to just hole myself up in the girls restroom again until my next class. I glanced behind me just to make sure they weren't following me. When I looked back in front of me, I stopped in my tracks before I crashed into the person.

When I saw who it was, I stiffened and took a wary step back.

Aiden.

I mean Adrian.

He had a near-identical bruise like that of Declan's under his left eye as well as had a bandage on his left jaw. Despite how he looked, he still grimaced when he saw me.

"Been a while," Adrian muttered as he turned back to his locker and went through it.

My eyes widened at the sight of the hardcover textbook he took out and I backed up more. I knew he was going to hit me with that thing. However, I was proven wrong when he casually slipped it into his backpack.

"Marco has it worse," Adrian grumbled. "Before it happened, he guaranteed that he was going to make sure he didn't break anything or else Coach would have his head."

It didn't take a genius to know who exactly he was.

"But he forgot about Marco's pride," Adrian told me when he shut his locker close. "Marco's gonna skip practice for a while."

I was confused. "I thought only Marco and Declan were supposed to fight in the parking lot afterschool," I told him. "Why are you beaten up too?"

He scoffed at my question. "Marco made me come as his backup. Not that I mind. I'm always up for revenge." He frowned. "Declan didn't care though. He didn't have to accept the fight two against one."

Adrian looked at me. "He made it clear why he was going to beat me up too. Saying it was the alternative if I wasn't going to get reported."

I exhaled from what he said. "Why are you telling me this?"

Adrian's eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't know. Don't you want to know how your boyfriend defended you?"

"He isn't my boyfriend," I snapped at him. "I have never talked to him until Friday."

Adrian glared at me. "Well, whoever he is, however you got to be him on your side- I say you keep sticking with him." He took a step towards me making me take a step back in response. "Because the second you're not-"

A hand abruptly slammed against the locker, having an arm be right between us. Adrian and I slowly followed the length of the arm with our eyes to find its owner. Jordan hung his head, the bangs of his dirty blonde hair hanging over his eyes. I took a wary step back that made Adrian follow suit, not knowing what to make of this.

Suddenly, Jordan looked up and gave Adrian a bright smile.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you guys or anything, but you two seemed to be in the middle of an interesting conversation," Jordan said casually.

Jordan's hand dropped back to his side and he looked back at me still holding a smile. "You wouldn't mind if I joined, do you?"

Jordan stepped forward and hooked his arm around Adrian's shoulders. Adrian stared at the ground, refusing to look at Jordan.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Adrian pleaded, holding his hands up in defense. "We were just talking. Tell him, Naomi."

"He's telling the truth," I said quietly. "Jordan, I don't want you to get into trouble."

"Wow, lunch sucked today," Jordan complained. "The public school board sure is saving money making us eat that stuff. I don't blame either of you skipping out on it and talking over here," he said with a halfhearted shrug.

At the sound of more footsteps, I glanced back to see Bennett and Declan now with us. Declan gave both Jordan and Adrian a glare- call it resting glare face. Bennett remained expressionless with narrowed eyes, analyzing the entire scene. 

Jordan mused, "Do you know what I found interesting..." He paused and looked at Adrian. "What's your name?"

"Adrian," he stumbled out.

"Last?"

"Wüthrich."

Jordan's face lit up at that. "Swiss? That's pretty cool. I've never been a fan of chocolate. You have good cheese though," Jordan commented before continuing, "Do you know what I found interesting, Wüthrich?"

"I don't know..." Adrian said hesitantly. "What?"

Jordan told Adrian without dropping his smile, "It's pretty interesting you think you can still talk to her after what you did, mon tabarnak."

Declan scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Adrian. "Don't waste your time with him. I already taught him his lesson," Declan told him.

"Well I haven't," Jordan snapped, grabbing the collar of Adrian's shirt. "How can something like this happen and I just... didn't know?" He faltered then turned to glare back at Adrian. "At least now I can do something about it now."

"Jordan," Bennett said, catching Jordan's attention to look at him. Bennett's narrowed gaze seemed to pierce Jordan who nearly flinched in response.

"Let him go," he said, his tone cold and steady.

Jordan hesitated before he shoved Adrian away who nearly stumbled but managed to regain his balance.

"Let's make this the last time, oui?" Jordan asked, giving him a charming smile.

Adrian scrambled to grab his backpack and got out of Jordan's reach. "You may have taken care of me and Marco, but there will be others," he called out before running around the hallway corner.

His words hung in the air: there will be others.

"I'm sorry Naomi," Jordan said quietly, refusing to look at me and instead just staring at the locker in front of him. "This whole time I was so mad at you and-" He stopped himself and let out a forced chuckle. "You probably hate us. Maybe you're even scared of us."

"No, I don't. I mean..." I faltered. "I don't know. It's all so confusing right now."

I've been bullied for years, stuck in this endless cycle of school and bullying: homework, insult, quiz, bruise, project, pain. Students have come and gone, even transfer students, but I just couldn't understand why suddenly these three showed up to help me. My initial belief that they were just messing with me was slowly fading, although a part of me still refuses to completely let go so I can still have something to keep my guard up.

I didn't know what they were getting out of this or what I can possibly do to thank them for their help. They seem to be strong enough to handle things on their own, but that doesn't mean I want them to keep doing that for me. After all, I hardly know them.

Bennett looked at me, his eyes searching into my own. "We'll leave you alone," Bennett assured me.

It was as if we were in a standstill. Each of us wanted to move but we couldn't.

There was no denying that I wasn't getting bullied and just their presence was enough to show that they wanted to help me. However, they knew that it would only bring more trouble to me as it broke the normalcy that was once just average bullying.

As for me, I wanted their help. Being able to walk through the hallway without having to watch my back or have to brace myself for any insults or shoves coming my way felt like a dream. But I knew that they weren't always going to be by my side and that the bullying will flood back the moment I find myself alone. Also, they were only making themselves a walking target. Everyone has only been intrigued by these three transfer students with the rumors circling around them, but that is no guarantee they will fall victim to any bullying regardless of who they are.

Slowly, we turned and began walking away from each other in opposite directions. We were like strangers on a bustling sidewalk- fated to cross paths once but will never see each other again.

-

"Paper."

I stared blankly at the outstretched hand in front of me.

"Scissors," I retorted sarcastically before I pushed past her to go to my desk.

The person grabbed me by the backpack to stop me. "Hand it over," Carmen demanded.

She didn't even give me a chance to sit down. I dug into my backpack until I found the essay then gave it to her. Her eyes quickly glossed over it as if she was only checking it was at least in English.

"This better not be a C again," She threatened as she tapped the paper on my chest for emphasis. "I know you did it on purpose so you better watch it."

I didn't bother arguing again that it wouldn't make sense that the C-student would suddenly turn in A-worthy essays and that it had to be built up instead. I got in trouble once for writing someone's essay for them but I managed to explain I was tutoring them. From then on, I had to purposely write essays to obtain grades that rose higher with each assignment. My peers don't have the same common sense and usually insult or beat me up for making them get such grades. I also only accepted typed essays to avoid having to forge people's handwriting but I have been on the receiving end of several insults when I refused my services. It was a lot of extra work but it didn't matter as long as I didn't get caught by a teacher again.

The front desk was empty because the teacher, Mrs. Davis, was running late again when coming back from her lunch break. Carmen put her essay on top of the pile of papers. I got my own essay from my backpack and placed it inside the pile. Better safe than sorry.

I went to the nearest empty seat, but as I walked up to it, a guy sitting next to the seat immediately put his backpack on it.

"Oh, how convenient," I commented dryly. "It's not like you have any friends to save the seat for."

In return, he gave me a look that told me to keep on walking.

I found another empty seat next to someone too engrossed in their phone to pay any mind to me. I was within earshot of Carmen who was talking to another one of her friends without any awareness of her volume level.

"They must have known each other before coming to Dartwell," Carmen's friend, Ashley, told her.

I wonder who they're talking about.

"We already know that," Carmen said, rolling her eyes. "A bunch of people already saw them driving into school together in a Mercedes Benz. Bennett was driving so it must be his car."

"What's so great about them?" Some guy asked before adding, "Besides the sweet ride."

"Well of course they would be the talk of the school," Ashley explained. "It's not every day we get a hot transfer student, especially three of them at the same time. Then there are all of those rumors."

"I heard Bennett's rich," Carmen started. "He has that car and someone from that smart-people class, I think it's called Research, said his project is about business- something about efficiency and costs. So he's like, sexy and smart," she said dreamily.

Why am I listening to this? Where's the teacher? Can I learn something more interesting than this?

"I'd say Declan is ruggedly handsome," Carmen said after thinking about it. "There's all those rumors that he got into a lot of fights in his last school. Must be why he had to transfer out. Seeing how he acts in Dartwell, it must be true."

Ashley sighed. "During cheerleading practice, I always see him playing soccer or basketball. You already know I like my men in uniform."

To prove her point, Ashley fanned herself with a piece of paper but suddenly stopped and looked at it. "Oh wait, I need to turn this in." She got up to put the essay on the teacher's desk.

"Jordan is cute and dreamy looking," Carmen said wistfully. "He has this charm that helps him get away with anything. Although he went too far and pranked his last school's principal. The school's flagpole was somehow involved."

Ashley gasped. "Now that can't be true. That has to be a rumor." She paused and thought about it. "I heard he did something to the school's sound system instead. I wonder if he'll do that here. That would be so funny."

Carmen shrugged. "Besides that, some girl has Studio Art with him, I know lucky, and sometimes he argues with the teacher which just makes him even more-"

"Sorry I'm late everyone," Mrs. Davis said as she walked into the room. "Please turn in your essays due today and we can start class."

The conversation between Carmen and Ashley fell into a whisper so I couldn't hear the rest of it- Not that it mattered. I didn't have anything to do with those transfer students anymore. They're just classmates.

Just classmates.

-

Walking into Physics, I found Jordan slumped in his seat playing a video game on his phone. Sitting down at my seat, I grabbed my pencil case and pulled out two pencils. I set one of them in front of him.

He looked up from his phone to see the pencil then looked back down. "Merci," he muttered before furrowing his eyebrows together from what he said.

"So you know French," I commented casually as I took out my notebook.

For the first time today, I saw him smile, although it was a small one. "Just some basic stuff," he replied before adding, "and all of the curse words."

"Did you take French as your required language?" I asked him as I watched him pocket his phone.

"Yeah, but I thought the class would be easier just because my mom tried to teach it to me when I was a kid." He frowned. "My grade proved otherwise. She gave me hell when she saw it."

I blinked, processing what he told me. "You're French?"

"French-Canadian," he corrected. When he saw the interest clear on my face, he smiled and elaborated, "I'm from Montreal, Quebec, the French province in Canada, born but not raised." He paused and thought about it. "I'm of French-Scottish descent, hence the name Wallace."

He let out a sigh. "Despite that, I never really had a knack for French, but the ladies don't seem to mind."

He winked at some girls who kept giving him glances and they sighed together. I held back rolling my eyes at that.

I smiled at him. "My father is of French-Irish descent, hence the name Lorraine." I chuckled. "Although I took Spanish for my language class instead because there's a lot of common words in Bisaya and Tagalog- they're Filipino languages," I explained to him as an afterthought.

Jordan looked at me with interest in his eyes. "Oh, so you're Filipino?"

"Filipino-Hawaiian," I corrected him, chuckling a bit at the parallelism of our conversation. "On my mom's side. I was born here though."

Jordan's face lit up, nearly blinding me. "Hawaii? I-"

He stopped when Mr. Ford placed two quizzes in front of us with the paper faced-down. Our teacher eyed us suspiciously.

"Do you think you can help me out with this quiz just this once?" Jordan asked me once the teacher was out of earshot.

I scoffed. "Like have you cheat off me?" I asked.

He can't be like one of them. I thought it was established he was one of the good guys.

"Yeah, I just got the textbook today," Jordan explained as he twirled the pencil between his fingers. "I barely glossed over the chapter before class."

I hesitated. It was pretty terrible that he had to take the quiz when he just got the textbook. I asked tentatively, "Are you going to make me help you?"

He looked confused at the question. "I'm just asking for your permission."

I tapped my pencil against the table. "I'll help you study for the next quiz," I offered. "I like this class and the teacher. I don't want to be caught helping someone cheat."

I looked at him expectantly. I hate to admit it but it was a test to compare him with the several others who wanted to cheat off me during school.

Jordan smiled. "Alright, I can take the hit with this one."

True to his word, Jordan didn't so much as glance at my paper during the quiz. From the sounds of his writing as the pencil scratched at the paper, Jordan wrote a lot. I knew the teacher was the type to be generous with his extra credit or else no one would ever pass his class.

Once we turned in our quizzes, Mr. Ford introduced the next topic we would be learning.

"I'm sorry again about earlier," Jordan said quietly. "I've never been the type to think things through."

I fiddled with my pencil, thinking. "I'll forgive you..." I said slowly. "If you can apologize to me in French," I finished with a small, mischievous smile.

He snorted. "Are you serious?"

"Of course not," I said nonchalantly. "Besides... You don't know French anyway."

"Yes, I do!" Jordan defended with a grin on his face, but it quickly turned into a frown. "Um... Wait, give me a second. I need to remember..."

"I thought Canadians know how to apologize," I said innocently.

He rolled his eyes. "You're making it really hard for me to want to apologize to you. And that's saying something because I'm Canadian. Now just let me think... "

He let out a sigh and began muttering to himself, looking lost in thought. "De, wait- Désolée. No, that's not right, too informal, and I think it's feminine. There should be je suis... How do I say that in French?"

Jordan suddenly snapped his fingers. "Je suis vraiment désolé! Give me the A I deserve Madame de Grantaine!"

The teacher stopped talking and the whole class was staring at Jordan. I put my face in my hands, not being able to comprehend that this is my seat partner.

"I would advise you to follow along in class, Mr. Wallace," Mr. Ford said deadpanned. "Your current grade would certainly appreciate it."

Jordan put his head down at the table, devastated after the whole class laughed at the teacher's remark. I listened to my seatmate mutter that he wanted to make the class laugh with him, not at him. I attempted to ignore him but his muttering was making me lose my train of thought. I needed him to focus in class again.

"That didn't sound like an apology," I said thoughtfully as I wrote the formulas on the board into my notebook.

Jordan lifted his head, smiling at me, then said gently, "Je suis vraiment désolé. I'm really sorry, Naomi."

I smiled back at him and tapped his notebook, one he finally brought, with my pencil. "Start following the lecture. I only help those who help themselves."

The two of us settled with not talking to each other as we "coincidentally" walked in the same direction to our next classes. I looked busy checking with something on my phone as Jordan greeted students with smiles and passing jokes as if he had been in Dartwell for years and knew everyone in it. The level of charisma and confidence he had was almost envious. I say almost because, for an introvert, it seemed draining.

Suddenly, someone shoved past me and made me hit the floor on my side. I grimaced at the pain.

Hello, floor, old friend. You've always been there to support me, catching me when I fall.

A girl latched onto Jordan's arm so fast that I believed Jordan could claim that he discovered a new species of leech, or if you're feeling fancy and want its scientific name, Hirudinea.

"Jordan, what a coincidence running into you here," the leech, I mean Carmen, said dreamily.

Running into? The only thing you were running into was me.

Jordan somehow managed to peel her off then went up to me and held out his hand.

"Are you alright-" Jordan stopped. He realized what he was doing and that everyone's eyes were on the two of us. But through quick wit, he saved himself by saying, "-random stranger."

There was a pause between us.

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied automatically, taking his hand and having him help me up to my feet. "Thank you for helping me out this one time, random stranger."

"It's no problem, random stranger."

This is so stupid. I can't believe we're doing this. People can't actually believe-

Everyone resumed what they were doing either going through their lockers or walking down the hallway.

Huh, nevermind.

"As I was saying," Carmen said, taking Jordan's arm and pulling him away. "It's so weird because I thought your next class is in the other direction. Why are you all the way over here?"

Jordan mouthed an apology to me as he began walking away with Carmen. Well, that was quite short-lived but it was worth a shot.

I was assigned to the main office for Service. It was a slow day and the school staff had me do some filing and printing of forms. When school ended, I once again took my time to finish up my final tasks before they had to kick me out of the office to close up. There were a few more kids than usual still in the hallways but it was still manageable. I headed in the direction of my locker so I could grab my things.

"You'd think she'd have left the school by now."

"She looks so pathetic. I get depressed just looking at her."

"I'm counting the days when she graduates. The world would be a better place if she's gone, don't you think?"

Some days, it seemed like it would.

Try not to be bothered by the insults. You get used to them after a couple of chapters. They cycle through them most of the time so it's rare for me to hear something that hasn't been said before.

The first few months, or perhaps the first year or two, were rough, to say the least. Of course, after being bombarded with insults on a daily basis, there will be times when you start believing it. I've had my fair share of lapses in my judgment and self-esteem. Being in this situation, it tends to damper one's mental health, but all high schoolers always find their way to be trapped in some teenage angst.

"What do you mean you don't have the essay yet?"

Surprisingly enough, that wasn't directed at me. Ahead, I saw that some guy was talking harshly to a girl. They seemed to be a grade or two below me- perhaps both sophomores. There was a large space surrounding them as passersby avoided the scene.

"I-I have a science project to do," the girl said, stumbling out an explanation. "I'll finish your essay after-"

"I wanted to turn it in already for extra credit!" He shouted, pushing her back in frustration.

"You should make Naomi do it then."

I'm glad to know where my recommendations are coming from. I hope I at least get a five-star rating for it. Maybe I already have some reviews like 'obedient' or 'fast delivery' to keep the customers coming.

"Seniors get priority," he said matter-of-factly, making me realize that always seemed to be the case. "Anyway, when she graduates, you could be our new Naomi."

There were chuckles from others who overheard the conversation. Some people who passed me shoved my shoulders.

The new Naomi. I stared hard at the floor with my fists clenched.

Was I the beginning of an endless cycle? Where does it end?

I was now walking past the two and when I looked up, my eyes met with the girl. Her eyes were a mixture of fear and anger when she saw me.

I turned away. What did she want me to do? Save her? She just tried to push off her bullying to me. You don't see me doing that to anyone else. I just take it. I always do. I have to.

With them now behind me, I heard shuffling and her yelp. "How about you do my essay first then maybe I'll let you off easy. Since you're Asian, you can get A's without even trying."

"Dammit," I muttered to myself.

When he moved to push the girl back again, his hands met my backpack that was held out between us. He had more strength than I had anticipated and it took all I could to not stumble from it.

I looked at the girl and it was like looking at a mirror. I saw myself in her eyes.

"Get out of here," I snapped at her.

She stumbled back in surprise before scrambling away.

"So are you going to do my essay then?" The guy asked, grinning at the fact that he was getting the better deal. "Let me give you the paper with the prompt-"

I shoved him back with my backpack. "The only person doing your essay is you," I told him. "Get the grade you deserve which is probably an F if your teacher is feeling generous."

I had to hold back from laughing at myself. What is this hero complex those three transfer students gave me?

On any other day, I would walk away. I would take any chance to escape from someone's bullying. Even if I knew it was wrong, I was one person, and couldn't possibly save everyone when I couldn't even save myself. But now I'm actually stepping between these fights willingly- first with Erinma and now some random girl. Even now I feel like I'm going to regret it when I nurse myself with the ice packs I have back home. Hopefully, we still have some.

Something caught my eye and I looked at his chest that had a Kick Me sign taped on his shirt. I was surprised to see that he still kept it on at Bennett's orders. How obedient.

The guy reddened when he saw me read the sign on his chest. He pushed me with a force that made me nearly fall backward. Yup, I'm going to need to buy some more ice packs.

"Just do my stupid essay and I won't beat you up," he threatened.

At this point, I couldn't stop myself. "Calm down. You're a child," I said with a laugh. "You think your cute little shoving will scare me? I've been dealing with our star quarterback for years."

But my words were still empty because I was trying to divert his attention that I was using a backpack as a stupid shield. What superhero am I trying to be- Captain Nerd? I gave him one last good shove with my backpack shield.

"And no one is going to be the next Naomi," I asserted. "It ends with me."

He held back his arm and I knew he was going in for a punch.

I've had my share of fights as I've been on the receiving end of so many shoves, slaps, and punches. However, that doesn't mean I'll suddenly become my town's kickboxing champion. With my small physique and priorities focused on getting into a great college out of this town, I couldn't dedicate my time to the gym. My hobbies include reading and watching cat videos, not willingly sweating more than necessary in a workout. And even if I was some badass fighter, I'm still one person against an entire school.

The effort would be small and pathetic while the end would be bloody and painful.

I knew my backpack, which has been used to fight against the shoves so far, wouldn't be able to make it in time to block a punch. I moved back, holding up my left arm to block his arm and braced myself. However, his punch never landed when a hand grabbed his forearm and pinned it against the locker.

Jordan turned to look at me and give me his signature charming grin.

What is it with these transfer students and their perfect timing?

Jordan's green eyes glinted. "How about we grab some coffee after this?"

My shoulders slumped in relief and I smiled back at him. There was no point in avoiding the inevitable now.

"Only if it's your treat."

~

And so it begins.

I guess even in an alternative dimension, you can't stop fate.

Thank you so much for reading Broken Glasses! It already broke 10K reads its first week!

This was a WHOLE new chapter that is never seen in TGGBB. Expect more of these to come. This is uncharted territory everyone!

Watch me make references of TGGBB 1 & 2 in BG haha. The greatest inside joke ever. (Laughs evilly)

Also, I just realized BG for Broken Glasses, the abbreviation connects with the alliteration of Bad Boys and Good Girls like TGGBB. I'm unconsciously a genius.

How do you guys like the new ethnicity cast? I'm so excited about it. However, internet research can only get me so far so please educate me about anything you may find helpful if you find your ethnicity mentioned. Such as correcting any sentences or telling me your favorite dishes! I love to learn more about the different readers I have!

But please don't be rude. Some reader was so rude when I wrote something in TGGBB2 when they clearly don't know that people can look like anything especially if they're of mixed race- as if they have a single mindset of what a certain ethnicity has to look like. Of course, you can correct me, but not in such a demeaning way as the reader did. I did my research, do yours.

I don't condone any bullying in an anti-bullying book. So between re-readers and first-time-readers or readers of different ships, respect each other in the comment sections of future chapters. Try to think of not spoiling a scene for a new reader. And if there's a scene that isn't your ship, don't ruin the atmosphere by negatively commenting against it. I'm not letting these two problems ruin the atmosphere of BG as it had with TGGBB1/2.

We're a respectful cult- I mean community and fandom.

I'll be starting my summer internship next week so I'll be trying to balance things out. I'll be a health and safety intern at this really great construction company. Also, don't worry, it'll be half-remote and half-in person, so I'll be sure to be safe so I can keep writing.

When I first wrote TGGBB, I was in middle school, so I didn't know how high school was like and I never took AP classes. Now that I'm in college, I know how high school is. So I actually took almost all of the AP courses mentioned in the chapter in high school. The AP classes I did were Biology, Calculus AB, Economics (Micro/Macro), Language, Literature, European History, US History, Computer Science Principles, and Physics C: Mechanics. I got a 5 on Lang but a 3 on Physics- quite ironic for the Civil Engineer who writes as a hobby. AP Language was my favorite class and I had a brilliant teacher so that's why I'm making these seniors take it when usually you do it junior year. I will show you the main characters' schedules once all of their classes have been revealed.

Be prepared to learn random things in Language (English essay writing), Physics, Calculus, and any other courses mentioned. I'll also give tips for college applications! Have some faith from someone who managed to get into UC Berkeley.

If you don't already know from TGGBB series, I love teaching readers through my stories such as discussing societal problems and giving history facts. You'll also learn a lot about the different aspects of bullying throughout the story.

Also, shoutout to @zehrarizvi02 for this awesome idea of putting character sheets at the end of each page! I can't believe a weeb such as myself (children don't try to recommend me any anime/manga, I'm a veteran and my watch/read list is hideously long) I never thought about it! There will be one every time a character has been thoroughly introduced. I will also add more to it every so often in the author's note. You can take a personality test at 16personalities.com to see if you match with anyone!

____________________________________

Name: Naomi Lana Lorraine

Birthday: March 14

Height: 5'3" (160 cm)

Personality: INFJ-T

Ethnicity: Filipino-Hawaiian (Mother, Laura) / French-Irish descent (Father, Nolan)

Appearance: Long wavy brownish-black hair, Light brown eyes, Honey skin tone

Wardrobe: (Chic-casual) Light sweaters, some cropped/High waist jeans/Chelsea boots, (Casual) Oversized shirts tucked or tied/Dark sweats or leggings/Sneakers, Black rimmed glasses

Likes: Neapolitan Ice Cream, Purple, Sweets, Reading

Dislikes: Cliffhangers, Spoilers, Stitches, Flowers

Facts:

- She can understand Spanish due to taking it as a required class. She used to be able to carry a conversation in Hawaiian, Bisaya, and Tagalog because of her grandparents. Often at times, her grandparents would mix the languages up in their conversations and she wouldn't be able to tell the languages between them. However, she's forgotten most of it as her grandparents have since passed and her mother speaks to her in English. Her middle name is her grandmother's name.

- She's ambidextrous because she taught herself to write with her left hand after breaking her right arm.

- She has a very good memory, almost eidetic. It's a blessing and a curse. She can be quite terrible at names though. She enjoys remembering science or history facts when she's bored.

Credit to @pekgna (They have the same user for Instagram and Twitter.) Follow them for awesome art. They'll make these profiles for the others.

____________________________________

See you in the next chapter!

Rubix