SPEAK

Chapter 14: When Monsters Fall

It was the morning of the spring semester, and I had seven brand-new notebooks, a pair of pants I already hated, and a stomachache that wouldn’t quit. I hadn’t eaten anything, which was pretty much the usual. The first day back always felt like a bad omen, but this year, Liora had a brilliant idea—let's take the bus to school. She said it was something new for the new year, but really, it was her idea, and my mom latched onto it like it was the best plan ever. I didn’t want to upset Liora, didn’t want her to think I was lame or that she didn’t need me, so here I was, doing the thing I dreaded most.

"Watch your step, young lady," the bus driver said as I nearly tripped over the stairs, classic me. I was already regretting this decision. The bus was empty, just me and the driver, and the realization of being alone with a man made my stomach twist even more. My first instinct was to bolt back down those stairs, but the thought of Liora’s disappointment anchored me to the spot. I froze there, weighing my options, feeling the weight of the bus's emptiness pressing in on me.

"This is the first stop. You’re the first pickup," he explained, probably trying to be reassuring, but it didn’t help. The emptiness of the bus felt like a mirror, reflecting how hollow I felt inside. I found a seat near the back, next to the window, because, of course, I wanted to disappear into the scenery as much as possible. The bus made its rounds, filling up with people who didn’t even glance my way. I watched them laugh and talk, totally at ease, while I sat alone, the seat next to me conspicuously empty.

I recognized a few faces from middle school and a few from some classes, but they either didn’t remember me or didn’t care. The ones who did notice me gave me cold, dismissive looks. I knew I was an outcast, but the way they treated me still stung. It was like I was invisible or, worse, something they didn’t want to acknowledge. Are people always this cruel, or is it just me? I tried to brush it off, but it gnawed at me.

As soon as I closed my eyes, trying to escape into my own little world, I felt someone slip into the seat beside me. I opened my eyes, and there was Liora. She had chopped her usually long hair into something shorter, chic, and totally unexpected. She was wearing light makeup, just enough to make her eyes pop, and honestly, she looked stunning. Sitting next to her felt like some kind of crime like I didn’t deserve to share the same space with her new and improved self. When she said the new year was going to be a new her, I didn’t think she meant it so literally. But wow.

She greeted me with her usual brightness, and I just gave her an awkward nod, the kind that’s supposed to pass as cool but just says, “I have no idea what I’m doing.” She started flipping through this list she’d made of all the things she wanted us to do this semester. Of course, Liora would be organized about changing her life.

"I was thinking of joining the Luminaries. They do community service and stuff, but I heard they’re super picky," she said, her voice all casual as she turned the page of her list. I noticed people staring at her—some waving, some giving her admiring looks. It was hard to tell if it was because of her new look or if she’d just reached some kind of bus royalty status. Either way, she had their attention.

As she chatted with a few other people, I felt it all over again—the loneliness, the ache that came from watching her belong in ways I never could. I know it’s selfish, but I wanted Liora to be mine, to be awkward with me and only me. The idea of sharing her with anyone else made me feel small and insignificant. But at the same time, I was relieved she didn’t introduce me to anyone. The last thing I needed was to be reintroduced to people who already knew me and chose to forget I existed.

If you thought the bus ride was rough, let me tell you, the trip to my first class was a whole new level of torture. Liora had already peeled off to her class—of course, we barely have any classes together, so it's no surprise I haven't known her that long. My first stop, like always, was my locker. But the hallways were a chaotic blur—students darting around like they had caffeine pumping through their veins, laughing way too loudly, talking about their Christmas break, and then there was the bell, echoing through the corridors. Wait—what? The bell? I was going to be late!