Bullied

Chapter 7

The next day at school I kept staring at Callie. It wasn't an intentional stare. I was just observing her. She was a mystery to me. She had never been the ringleader in my bullying, but she was a main contender in the fight to put me down. It was hard to imagine that my dad was dating her mother. It definitely made a girl wonder (this girl in case you didn't catch my drift) if Alice was anything like her daughter. Obviously her dad wasn't in the picture or she wouldn't be such a horrible person. No one who had a decent upbringing turned out the way she had. I really hoped that her mother wasn't anything like her. I wasn't so sure that I could handle two Callie's. One was painful enough. Two would probably make me run away screaming into the night.

I must have zoned off for a little while, lost in my cavernous empty head, because the next thing I knew Callie had made eye contact with me. Crap! I tried to get up and gather my stuff, but she was heading towards me swiftly. She did not look happy, not one little bit. Arms full, nearly tripping over myself, I exited the cafeteria before she could capture me and lock me in a torture chamber. Okay, so I was being a little dramatic, but she was one seriously scary individual. Most people frightened me though, if I was being honest. The thought of sharing any of my personal space with her made me want to lock myself in my locker, but as I've said before, I'm unable to fit inside. I didn't really know what my plan of escape was once I made it into the hallway, but suddenly I had nowhere to go.

"Kylie!"

It was Callie. Hide! I spotted the girls restroom and bolted in that direction. I felt silly running away, but I had no idea what she had planned for me. It was suspicious that she was even trying to follow me. What is her deal?

"Kylie, seriously? I saw you come in here."

As I hid in a stall, hoping she would just give up and go away, I couldn't help myself. I stole a glance out of the crack in the stall to see what she was doing. Shit. She was looking directly at my stall, hands on her hips.

"Come out, please? I-I won't hurt you..."

Yea right! Like I would fall for that line. I wasn't born yesterday sister!

"Look. I know you're in there. I just want to talk. Please?"

Go away.

"My mom is making me talk to you, but I don't disagree that I should. Please open the door."

"No."

"I really don't want to continue talking to a bathroom stall door. It's undignified."

She had her back turned to me, looking in the mirror at herself. Annoyance flashed across her face as she folded her arms in front of her and looked down. I sighed. She obviously wasn't going to give up.

"I'm not leaving until you open the door."

See? Everyone was being so difficult lately. Here goes nothing.

"What do you want?"

"Finally. I hate talking to people when I can't see them."

"It must be really gratifying to look into someone's eyes while your crush their spirit."

"Okay. I deserve that."

She nodded slowly, not looking me directly in the eyes at first and pressed her lips together. As she looked back up at me, I realized just how short she really was. She was wearing high heels. How had I not noticed this before? I was being bullied by a short person. Well, that's about as humiliating as the being tortured itself part. Her eyes were shining slightly. What does she have to be sad about? Was it because if her mom married my dad someday we would be related? Was I really that bad?