New Girl in School

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Sweat poured down the sides of my face as I zigzagged across the soccer field with my ponytail flapping behind me and my foot guiding the ball. I loved being outside and I loved playing soccer. I was good at it, and it was the one time my short stature paid off. The low center of gravity gave me good balance. And I was fast.

I approached a defender poised to steal the ball, or so she thought. When I flicked the ball to the left, her foot contacted nothing but air. I skirted around her, eying my next challenge, slowing down to assess the best move.

The blow to my back sent me flying. I landed on my belly with an umph and slid on the cool grass. Trying to re-fill my lungs, I rolled onto my back to see Martha glaring down at me with her feet apart and her hands on her hips. The way her lips were curled into a smirk sickened me.

Our coach yelled, "Martha, that was a foul! What were you thinking?"

The bully glanced at the coach and then back at me. Her voice was low. "That's just a warning. Next time I'm gonna really hurt you."

The coach scurried over and Martha turned to her. "Sorry, Miss Blanchard, I didn't mean it."

The coach's eyes narrowed while staring into Martha's face. Then she looked down at me. "You okay, Kayla?"

I nodded without looking up. I knew Martha was giving me a smug look. She won that round and she knew it.

After practice, Miss Blanchard wanted to talk to me in her office about the incident. What was I going to tell her? That I was being bullied? It would have made the situation worse. By the time we were done, the other girls had already showered and were mostly dressed. There wasn't much time before my next class so I quickly stripped, tossed my clothes into my locker, and dashed for the showers.

The water felt great and I lingered as long as I dared. When I turned the water off, I noticed the silence; everyone had gone. I walked back to my locker after toweling dry and noticed the metal door ajar. In my haste I had forgotten to lock it. A queasy feeling in my stomach made me hesitate, but then I opened the door.

I gasped.

My gym uniform was gone. Why would someone steal it? I looked closer and saw my tee-shirt and skirt hanging where I had left them, and I saw my bra lying on top of my shoes and sneakers. But that's all. Both panties, the ones I wore during practice and the ones I had planned to change into, were missing. I searched for them, shoving everything aside, but they were gone.

With no alternative, I dressed into the clothes I had. It was the first time I felt my skirt was too short. I tugged on it, but it was already snug on my hips and didn't budge. This was too much. I was going to see the principal and tell him what happened. But how could I prove who did it? It didn't matter, he'd let me go home.

The halls were swarming with boys and girls heading to their next classes as I pushed my way through. I should have been on alert, but I was so distraught being naked under my short skirt that I didn't notice Martha. She snagged me as if I were no more than a doll, wrapping a strong arm around me, lifting me off the floor with my feet kicking. As I struggled, she raised the back of my skirt and pressed it against my back. The cool air on my exposed butt caused my entire face to burn red.

"Look at the slut," Martha yelled as I fought to free myself from her powerful grasp.

The talking stopped, and then I heard laughter. I tried to break free—she was too strong—and somehow managed to kick her shin. She screeched and flung me to the floor. Sprawled on my belly, boil came up from my stomach when I once again felt the cool air on my exposed, bare butt.

I scrambled to my feet and plowed through the crowd with tears streaming down both cheeks. I didn't go to the principal's office. I ran for the exit and didn't stop for several blocks. I needed to catch my breath. Bent over with my hand resting on a tree, I sucked air into my burning lungs, gasping, sputtering, coughing.

When my breathing became normal, I looked around to get my bearings and then glanced at my watch. I couldn't go back to school, but it was too early to go home. So I wandered, and thought, and cried.

It was finally late enough to go home so I walked to my house and entered as if nothing was the matter. My mother was her cheerful self.

"How was school?"

It was the same question she asked every day, but she was sincere. I wanted to tell her what happened, but knew she'd storm into the principal's office and make matters worse. I'd be known as the kid who needed her mother to fight her battles.

"Same as always." I didn't look at her face. She'd know I was lying.

I went to my room and sat on the side of my bed with my face in my hands. What was I going to do? How could I face the other kids in school tomorrow?

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