The Things I Swore I'd Never Do

Your heavy footsteps announce your arrival. You, your too big boots, and your overstuffed backpack squeeze between the dozens of students blocking your path. They’re so busy talking to their own friends that they don’t see you, all alone, making your way toward your locker. Toward us.

Did you really think we wouldn’t be waiting for you?

You’re hiding a slight smile as you keep your eyes focused on the floor. It’s an unusual look for you, so different from your usual act: lips pressed together, unblinking eyes staring straight in front of you, head held high. You always wanted us to think you didn’t care, but it never worked. We knew that you were crumbling inside.

I can’t help but wonder what you’re smiling about. You haven’t smiled at school for a long time. What gave you this hope? Did you sit in your bed last night, wrapped in blankets and sleepless into the morning, swearing that tomorrow was the day you wouldn't let us hurt you?

No matter the reason, your smile is enough to prove that you haven’t noticed us yet. Maybe I’m the only one who has seen you. As much as I don’t want to be the one to draw attention to you, I can’t ignore that She would be happy with me if I did, and that’s the only thing keeping me safe from Her.

It’s too late. She’s already noticed you; I can tell by the way Her eyes glint like She’s a hawk and She has just spotted a mouse. We giggle, we nudge each other in the ribs, and we begin.

For the record, if you did lie awake last night and whisper that you wouldn’t let us bring you down again, that’s a hard promise to keep. I would know.  If you really wanted us to leave you alone, you could have started by getting rid of those too big, floppy old boots.

~.~.~.~.~.~

It’s not the boots today, although one scathing look at your feet is enough for you to know that She does not approve. This morning, it’s all about your teeth. She must have noticed your smile. Every whispered jibe is rewarded with a smile of Her own. I think of some insults I could share.

Why can’t her family get an orthodontist? They’re obviously not using the money on shampoo.

I bet she can’t even find a dentist because no one would work on such a lost cause.

I could probably earn a few laughs with them, but I keep these quips to myself. By standing in this circle and giggling in the right places, I’ve achieved my invisibility. That’s all I need to stay safe this time around.

But would braces have been so hard? Wouldn’t it have been easier for you that way?

You watch our circle out of the corner of your eye while you aimlessly spin your padlock. You’re wondering if we’re really talking about you, or if you’re just paranoid after weeks of torment.

Of course we’re talking about you. It’s too easy to surround our prey and make them listen to our words. Hunting is much more fun when the target is kept at a distance. This way, you never know for sure if you’re being eaten alive.

The bell rings, and you are so relieved. You disappear into the crowds with your monstrous backpack, and I let out my own sigh of relief.

~.~.~.~.~.~

You don’t see us again until lunch. This semester must be easier for you, especially after the last one when you shared three classes with Her. She told us so many stories, so I know that She didn’t give you much of a break. Then again, seeing us at lunch isn’t much of a break either. Without the safety of the classroom, you are so vulnerable.

I’ve come to lunch late after finishing a biology test, so for the first time in weeks, I’m in the lunch line alone. I grab a chicken wrap and see that you’re standing in line in front of me. No one else is getting food. Do you always come to the cafeteria this late? And has it ever done you any good?

I know that you see me. You’re trying too hard to act casual, like nothing is wrong. We reach the trays of milk cartons, and you’re so careful when you pick up carton after carton, checking their expiration dates. All the time, you keep glancing over your shoulder. Maybe you hope I’ll get frustrated with how long you’re taking and push ahead of you. Then you could select your lunch in peace. I wait.

It’s never been just you and me before; usually, She is here too. I imagine taking advantage of the situation, gripping you by the shoulders and yelling, “It doesn’t have to be this way! Change your hair, your clothes! Change your attitude! Just change who you are, it’s not that hard! I’ve done it!”

Yes, I’ve done it, and I won’t let myself regret it.

You’re terrified of me. You want to run away like a rabbit runs from a wolf. But if I told you that I’m no wolf, that I’m a rabbit, just like you…well? Would you even believe me?

~.~.~.~.~.~

I take the last seat left at our regular table. You take the last seat of your own table, but you’ve never had a group to come back to every day. You sit somewhere new each day of the week. Have we made you feel so worthless that you are afraid to impose for longer than a day? Do you worry about how the people at your table feel, sitting with someone as pathetic as you must be?

And what will you do when you run out of tables to sit at?

“I can’t believe who was in line ahead of you,” the girl on my right shares.

An energized silence envelopes the table. We all look at Her to see how we should respond. She neatly peels back the lid of her fat free yogurt.

“Loser,” She mutters at last.

Heads bob around the table in agreement. She has put it perfectly.

“Loser,” a few voices repeat. I try out the word for myself, forming the syllables under my breath just to see what it tastes like.

Loser.

It tastes like every terrible thing you’ve ever thought about me has just come true.

~.~.~.~.~.~

You see us again in gym class. When you start to stretch, She sidles up to you and asks if you’re aware that your gym clothes are stinking up Her space. Your face scrunches up, and you’re trying so hard to come up with a good response, but in the end, you turn away silently.

Sometimes, we decide it’s more fun to publicly humiliate you and see you suffer our taunts in silence. You’ve never stood up to us.

Someone says the word “loser”, and the malice behind that one word makes me cringe. A year ago, did I look as helpless as you do now?

I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t.

~.~.~.~.~.~

You’re alone on a bench outside of school, waiting to be picked up. Your arms are wrapped around you tightly, like you’re willing yourself into oblivion. There’s a scuff mark on the toe of your left boot, and even your oversized backpack can’t hold everything tonight. Your geometry book is cast aside on your bench. I’m only a few feet away from you, alone and waiting for my own ride.

A car pulls into the parking lot, just an ordinary blue minivan, and you jump up from the bench and rush toward it. Your geometry textbook lies forgotten.

“Wait!”

I scoop up the book and hurry after you. Your eyes light up when I give it to you, and that moment of happiness is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Thank you,” you say breathlessly.

While the gratitude shines in your face, I look at you. I see the stringy hair, crooked teeth, unfashionable clothes, and the unhappiness. I see everything I was before I finally switched schools and everything I’ve tried so hard not to ever be again. Everything I will be again if She turns against me.

I can’t be that girl again.

“Loser,” I hiss before I turn away. You probably start to cry, but I’m already gone. There’s nothing for you to do but climb into the minivan and ride away from me.

I know exactly who you are. You are me. You are the girl that I was.

I just don’t know who I am anymore