The Moor Beast

Chapter One

"Here, kitty, kitty," the kid mocked, dangling a piece of string in front of my face as I walked to class.

I sighed. Just another day in the life of Faline Collins. I tried taking the high road and stepped around the string to continue on my way.

For as far back as I could remember, these boys have been teasing me about my name. Faline sounded a lot like feline; it was too good of an opportunity for those rotten boys to pass up.

Oh, why couldn't my parents have chosen a different name for me?

"Knock it off," my best friend Bertie said beside me in a timid voice. Her big brown eyes stared bravely at the kid from behind her glasses. I dared him to grab hold of them and snap them in two, like they've done before.

He ignored Bertie and persisted. "What's the matter, kitty? Don't you want to play?"

It never helped when I lost my temper. But I usually did; I know that that's why they bullied me and Bertie the way they did, but it's like I couldn't help it. They were absolute pigs to us. What were we supposed to do? Roll over, play dead, and hoped they stopped? Good luck. I knew what happened when you tried to ignore them, no matter what well-meaning teachers and parents said.

Bullies always pushed harder when you ignored them. 

And sometimes, you have to push back.

But I had already been suspended this year for lashing out, and I only had a couple more weeks left of school. So I gritted my teeth and kept walking. I could see the disappointed frown on my parents' faces. I tried to focus on that. But that stupid string dangling in front of my face wasn't helping.

"C'mon, kitty," the guy said, and I could hear his friends snicker behind me.

"Bug off," I said, smacking his hand and yarn away.

"Make me," he said, his zitty face crinkling with a idiotic smile. Laughing in the face of danger.

That did it. That always did it.

"Fine," I said, and I whipped around and kicked him in the groin.

"Oh!" His so-called friends yelled as he crumpled to the ground. "You owe us five bucks, man," one of them added.

I don't know what they were betting on, but my temper was already lost. I whirled around to face them. But before I could beat the crap out of all of them, I heard a familiar voice.

"Faline Collins!"

I closed my eyes. Mrs. Grey, the principal. Why do bullies always have such perfect timing? How do they know when the "adult" isn't looking?

I turned to face her. She strode up to me, her heels clicking on the sidewalk, her red lips pressed into a thin red line. "My office, now."

"But they started it!" I yelled. They always started it.

"Well, I'm finishing it," she said, which was her common reply.  Growling, I stalked toward her office.

"I hope I ruined your chances for having kids!" I shouted behind my shoulder.

"That's enough!" Mrs. Grey ordered, taking a gentle, but firm hold of my arm and guided me to her office. I looked at Bertie. She stood looking back at me, biting her lip. She ran after us. I could hear one of the guys called after her, "Hey, do you know what 'snitch' rhymes with?"

"Mrs. Grey, it really wasn't her fault," Bertie pleaded, trotting in front of us, her brown curls bouncing at her shoulders. "They were picking on us again. We were just trying to go to class."