Closer to the Whispers

Passing Out in Class

**Trigger warning for pig dissection for scientific purposes. Nothing too graphic. **

Isabella POV:

I stood outside the cursed room that science was held in, terrified to face Mr. Grande now that he thought I was a weird psycho trying to pin a random baby on him and destroy his life.

I wanted nothing more than to go hide in my bed, but without that specific class, I would lose my place at Berkley. I hadn't been in the classroom for an entire week, avoiding him, but there was a test today, and I couldn't miss it. I needed to make something of myself. I couldn't let my fear destroy any chance of a future my baby would have.

I put my hand absently on my stomach, almost as if that would in itself give me courage. I was only a few weeks along, so not even showing yet, but I knew my little angel was there, and that was all that mattered.

"Are you coming in or not?" Mr. Grande asked harshly, interrupting my thoughts moving to close the door.

He looked at me with pure hatred. I had been wrong before. He hadn't hated me, but he sure did now.

I couldn't even speak. I just slipped in past him with my head down and hurried to my desk where there was a baby pig and medical supplies to cut it open already laid out.

"You will be expected to dissect your pig. I want a full diagram with labeled parts turned in by the end of the period. This counts as half of your final grade, so don't fuck it up." Mr. Grande announced coldly to the entire class.

He glared at everyone, terrifying each person into perfection, but his eyes settled on me, lingering. He ground his jaw, and his eyes darkened in a dangerous way before he finally looked away and sat at his desk to let us work.

I exhaled, and Jasmine gave me a pointed look, having realized he was for sure still angry at me.

"Damn girl, what did you do to that man? He looks like he wants to kill you. If the rumors are true, he might just do that." Jasmine whispered, nudging me as if I could have missed his loathing look.

"Never mind, we need to focus," I said dismissively, trying to steady my hands in order to cut open the pig.

The baby pig.

I literally never got sentimental, but my hand hovered shakily over the innocent pale grey pig fetus, and I had to close my eyes and focus.

"It's already dead," I mumbled to myself, trying unsuccessfully not to associate the poor piglet with my own baby.

"You got this. Don't let that creep get to you." Jasmine said, misunderstanding my hesitation, coming through like my own personal cheerleader when I needed her most.

I gave her a weak smile and focused, blocking out the intrusive and disgusting thoughts so I could focus on the science of what I was doing.

About forty-five minutes into the exam, the room had relaxed slightly, and everyone was whispering as they coordinated two studnets to a pig. He started making his rounds, and I hoped he would ignore me, but I wasn't lucky, and he paused behind the two of us observing my work.

My opening cut was flawless, my diagram could be in a medical journal, and every organ was noted correctly, yet...he lingered, breathing down my neck.

"You've lost weight. If you're trying to get my attention by starving yourself, you accomplished your goal. I pity you, congratulations." He said softly, his breath tickling me from how close he was to me, his words as cold as ice and slicing through my self-confidence.

I wanted to run out and cry, maybe scream at him also. I just stood there frozen in shock and did nothing instead.

"Bastard," Jasmine said, shaking her head as he walked around us to another table. If he heard, he didn't comment and continued on with his assessment of everyone.

I breathed deeply, and when that didn't help, I took another deep breath. And another.

I got lightheaded and woozy, and the room started to spin. He was right that I had lost weight, but because I was so stressed about how I would raise a baby alone and keep the pregnancy secret until graduation.

I grabbed Jasmine's arm to steady myself but it was too late, so I blacked out, my normally very resilient body fucking me over.

Unconsciousness was warm, fuzzy, and not embarrassing. Waking up after passing out mid-test, though, was absolutely mortifying.

"Fuck." I mumbled, realizing I was on the floor and everyone was starting to surround me, shocked.

"She needs the nurse!" Jasmine yelled to Mr. Grande, who sighed, annoyed I was causing more drama, and he came over to asses.

I tried to get up, but my head was killing me, and when I leaned forward, I started to get dizzy again.

"You can lose all the weight you want, Isabella, but you will still be ugly," Stacy said, smirking with her friends, enjoying my pain.

"Oh fuck off, Stacy!" Jasmine snapped at the bitchy girl.

"Move." Mr. Grande said without emotion, lifting Jasmine away from me and tossing her to the side without effort.

"I'm fine," I said, trying again to sit up and failing but wanting to be nowhere near him. The bell rang, which thankfully meant my audience left, even Jasmine, who filed out after a sharp glare from Mr. Grande. Even her loyalty had its limits, it seemed.

"You really got an abortion, didn't you? Ever bother to tell the father? You probably have blood loss, silly girl. I could have rescheduled your test." He snarled at me, lifting me up with a single arm as if I were weightless, holding me steady until I got my bearings.

"I don't see how it matters to you," I said weakly. I tried to meet his glare with one of my own but failed miserably.

"You're fucked it in the head, you know that. You spreading your crappy rumors could have ruined my life. Got me killed, literally. I know you're young and dumb, but so please try to be slightly, just ever so slightly less dumb." He said mockingly and yet brutally honest. He let go of me at last and looked me over, almost seeming concerned.

I saw a trace, the slightest trace of the Leo I knew, the side of himself he tried to hide for some ungodly reason.