My Name is Bitch

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next day, school couldn’t have been more of a distraction for her. She decided to pay attention, and let the world of education sweep her away.

Safe to say, it didn’t happen.

All day, the sharp movement in the corner of her eye followed her around but, every time she would turn to make sure they didn’t hurt her, clueless freshman gave her looks, hot football players stared at her, perky upperclassmen whispered,” bitch,” underneath their breath. They couldn’t make her hurt anymore than she already had been.

James watched her, as she would turn suddenly around on unsuspecting peers, looking spooked and protective.

He wanted to massage her tense shoulders and murmur into her ear that everything was all right, that he would protect her from whomever that may be.

He repeatedly tried to summon the courage to ask her out or even talk to her, but as soon as he would catch sight of her, his mouth would dry up and nothing would come out.

James watched from a distance as Jane walked down the hall, late to class. It didn’t matter if he was late, the teacher didn’t pay much attention, anyways.

She walked crookedly down the hall, as if skipping across the checkered tile of the hallway, he could almost hear her talking to herself, “step on a crack and break your mother’s back.” Her blonde hair swished, almost calling out to him to run his hands through it. But, the school remained silent, as if shutting the whole world out to give them a moment to themselves. God only knows Jane needed it.

Jane turned a corner of the school, not caring that she was completely late for art. It was art and she was a bad student.

Three boys at the end of the hallway, jocks presumably by the letter jackets they sported, glanced at Jane and shared devilish smiles. They took off on their way to her, also not caring that they were supposed to be in class.

One of the boys, the stitching spelled out Valentino down the side of his jacket, had an especially monstrous idea forming in his brain. She’s pretty enough, he thought, she would easily give into him.

Jane noticed footsteps heading her way, but assumed they would bypass her like most did. She was a wallflower, not only no name at home, but at school, as well.

Except, this time the footsteps stopped, halting right in front of her, keeping her from criss-crossing the checkered halls. The feet looked large, probably belonging to some big guys, but Jane didn’t dare look up.

A shove on her shoulders into a locker made her stare, “Hey girl,” one of the boys said scantily.

She could almost feel fear radiating off of her. She didn’t have the nerve to say anything back.

Valentino stepped forward, “want to hang out with me some time, girl?”

With every “girl” Valentino said, Jane couldn’t help but cringe. If she closed her eyes it would seem as if she was home, again.

Jane looked back at the ground, praying to anyone that this wasn’t happening to her, that she really had a name, that she really belonged somewhere and that life was meant for more than this.

“N-no,” she stutters.

Valentino didn’t expect no. No one ever tells him no. “N-no?” he mimics.

Jane nods her head. Valentino grabs the back of head, close to the bald spot.

Jane screams, the memory of her father’s hair jerking, her bloody hairline, all come back to her in a tumble of emotions.

James hears her scream, he hears Valentino tell his friend to run. He hears their footsteps retreat. He expects Jane to be running in the complete other direction, away from her attackers.

What he doesn’t expect is to find is Jane lying on the ground, sobbing.

The hallways blurs around him as he runs faster, trying to get to Jane before- before what?

No one heard Jane’s scream, or if they did they took it as some weird prank or joke.

James couldn’t be more disappointed in humanity at that point.

James knelt beside her, giving her room to breath.

“Jane?” she looks up from the floor, suddenly aware that she has an audience. She wipes her eyes with her sleeve and sniffs.

“James?” All he wants to do is kiss her red puffy eyes and tell her everything is going to be okay. That everything will be fine.

“Are you ok?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned for her.

Jane stumbles with her words, completely baffled by his concern, “I’m fine.”

She looks so vulnerable, so easily hurt. But her eyes tell a different story, they finally reveal everything she has been through, they weep the memories she has fought to bury.

James mentally tells him to listen to her; to leave her alone, but he tells himself to screw it. He sweeps Jane up in a hug, tucking her into his chest, not caring if she finds it strange or awkward.

She doesn’t say anything. She understands his actions, and lets herself cry.

Cry for the memories she couldn’t save.

Cry for the memories she wish she could have.

Cry for the memories she wished never had happened.

Cry because this is going to be the happiest of memory of her life.