If Only

Chapter 13- Darion's House Is So Much Better

It's a new week. Monday, another school day. I walk down the stairs in white pants and an army green tank top with thick straps. I have a brown cardigan hanging on my shoulder but I don't bother to put it on. My brother waves to me as he stuffs his face with cereal. Off brand Captain Crunch, how original. I wonder if he recalls last night or if he was too tired to remember anything.

I take a seat and pour myself a bowl of cereal. As I walk over the refrigerator my brother proceeds to tell me he used the last of the milk.

"Are you serious? Couldn't have told me before I poured the cereal?" I complain, eating a pinch of dry cereal.

"Nope. That would've ruined the fun." he smiles. I roll my eyes and look at the time. I curse under my breath as I realize that I'm about to be late for school. I grab my backpack and rush out the door but not before I throw the bowl of dry cereal at my brother. He yells, annoyed, but I take off towards my bus stop. I make it just in time to see Nadia boarding. I follow her to the back and sit down beside her. I'm surprised when she doesn't talk, she usually makes the first effort at conversation in the morning.

"Hey, is everything okay?" I ask, bending over to look at her face. She nods, her blank emotion unwavering. I sigh and sit back. She's not okay, but I'm not one to pry. I wince as I sit back, my waist and legs, especially my inner thighs sending a shock of pain through my body. Nadia doesn't notice. Good. I don't have an excuse and there's no way I'm telling her the truth. We make it to the school and as I'm getting off the bus, I see people looking and pointing at me, leaning to whisper to their friends. I ignore them, walking through the front doors. I've had to pee really bad all the way here so my first stop is the bathroom. I walk in and see some girls giggling and writing on the walls. I don't bother to care about their writing until they look at me and then the writing and then back at me, laughing. They leave and that's when I check out the writing. I gasp, eyes wide, stumbling backwards. All over the wall, people have written things about me. That I am a whore, I'm a slut. The one that stands out the most is the one in familiar handwriting and big letters. Nadia's writing. I think. No, I'm sure it's her's. It had to be hers.

FLEUR HAZEL MOSS MADE MY BOYFRIEND CHEAT! FLEUR MOSS IS A DECEIVER AND A LIAR AND A BOYFRIEND STEALER!

My breathing is heavy as I run, abandoning my backpack in the restroom. I push past people, not bothering to say excuse me or sorry as I run into them. My head and heart pounds, my feet moving faster and faster until I find myself on the roof once again. It's hot. My body feels like it's burning alive. I yank off my cardigan, revealing my tank top that would definitely get me dress coded. I put my hair into a quick bun to get it off my neck. I fan myself with my hands. My cardigan, thrown to the side, blows and flies, getting caught on the top of the fence, most of it hanging on the outside. I collapse, trembling. I flinch when I feel someone's hands wrap around me, tight and secure. At first I fight, but give up when I realize they aren't letting go. They shush me, running their hands over my body gently. I can feel their heart beating rapidly, their breathing is loud and heavy.

"What happened?" they ask quietly.

"They wrote...wrote..." I can get the sentence out through my sobs.

"I was hoping you didn't see those things." the person whispers. I can tell from their voice that it's Darion. To the rescue. Again.

I rise up and away from him. "Why? Did you write them?" I ask though I know he didn't.

"No! No, I swear! I was scrubbing them off the walls Fleur! I promise. I just saw you running in the hall and had to make sure you were okay!" he explains, pulling me back into him. I want to fight but relax into his grip instead. It's comforting. My body stops shaking as violently as it was. The wind blows harshly and I shudder. Darion pulls me in closer. I watch my cardigan fly off the fence and into the distance. Oh well. I didn't like it anyway.