Chapter 2: Hope and Hurt

Back home, my mother was annoyed that I embarrassed her at school and locked me on the porch to starve for a night. Luckily, after two times, the teacher stopped calling my mother.

The silence after the second time was almost a relief. I’d take hunger over humiliation any day. I learned to keep my head down, to never give anyone a reason to notice me. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but I preferred it to being hit in front of the whole class.

As a child, I once asked my mother why Hailey could play with toys and watch TV and do nothing, while I had to do so much. Her answer was always—

"Quinn Delaney, you are a child of sin, born to be hated. No one loves you."

The words were like a spell, repeated until they became the soundtrack of my childhood. I’d mouth them to myself at night, trying to make sense of why I was always on the outside.

"Quinn Delaney, you’re a curse, born to be hated. No one loves you."

I sat on the rug, knees to my chest. Watching. My dad toss a football with my brother. Aunt Melissa would pour lemonade, her laughter ringing through the house. I’d wait for my dad to look at me, to say something just for me, but he never did.

It was too hard at home, so I actually preferred being at school. At school, I had my own textbooks, and my classmates weren’t as domineering and wild as Hailey. They were nice to me. I started to talk to classmates, and even though I didn’t know much when I started, I quickly became a top student. I loved how patient and kind the teachers were when they taught me.

In the classroom, everything was different. The teachers smiled when I raised my hand. My classmates asked to borrow pencils and saved me a seat at lunch. I soaked up their kindness like sunshine. Learning became my escape, the one place where I could be good at something, where I mattered.

Later, the teacher often praised me, and my classmates started to like me, calling me "the nerdy brainiac." At the end of the term, I scored 100 in math and 92 in English, ranking first in the class.

Hope. I almost didn’t recognize it. The day the scores were posted, my heart pounded with something like hope. My classmates crowded around, patting my back, grinning. "Way to go, Quinn!" someone said. I almost smiled, for real.

Later, the teacher often praised me, and my classmates started to like me, calling me "the nerdy brainiac." At the end of the term, I scored 100 in math and 92 in English, ranking first in the class.

Hope. I almost didn’t recognize it. The day the scores were posted, my heart pounded with something like hope. My classmates crowded around, patting my back, grinning. "Way to go, Quinn!" someone said. I almost smiled, for real.

I didn’t even have time to react. Rip. My scalp stung. Hailey’s face was twisted with jealousy. My mother’s eyes narrowed, and I knew what was coming before she even moved.

"Quinn Delaney, what do you mean? You know I didn’t do well and got scolded by my mom, and yet you bring your first-place report card to show my aunt? Who are you trying to humiliate?"

Her words were spit out like venom. I stood frozen, still clutching the shreds of paper, not understanding what I’d done wrong. I just wanted someone to be proud of me.

After she finished, my mother’s face darkened and she slapped my head.

The slap rang out, loud and final. I bit my lip, trying not to cry. The room spun, my ears ringing. Hailey smirked, satisfied, and I felt smaller than ever.

"Quinn Delaney, can’t you leave Hailey alone for once? You owe her a life, and instead of making it up, you make her cry every day! If I had known you were so vicious, I should have drowned you at birth!"

Her voice was a knife, slicing through any hope I had. I wanted to disappear, to shrink down until I was invisible. I stared at the floor, willing myself not to cry.

My head buzzed as they hit me, and I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong. I had just come back from outside; I had no idea what they’d just talked about, and even less why, if Hailey did badly, I couldn’t do well.

I clutched at the shreds of my report card, my hands shaking. The room felt too small, the air too thick. I wanted to scream, to ask why nothing I did was ever enough.

So later, I always finished my homework at school. Did badly on purpose. I also helped my deskmate, Riley Thomas, with her homework, letting her help "bully" me in front of Hailey. Seeing my grades at the bottom and me being bullied, Hailey was delighted and didn’t bully me as hard anymore.

Riley caught on quickly, playing along in front of Hailey, then slipping me candy or a note of encouragement when no one was looking. It became our secret, a little rebellion against the cruelty at home.

So later, I always finished my homework at school. Did badly on purpose. I also helped the classmate who sat next to me, Riley Thomas, with her homework, letting her help "bully" me in front of Hailey. Seeing my grades at the bottom and me being bullied, Hailey was delighted and didn’t bully me as hard anymore.

Warm. Soft-spoken. She always smelled like cinnamon rolls. Mrs. Patterson was the kind of neighbor everyone wished they had—warm, soft-spoken, always smelling faintly of cinnamon rolls. She wrapped me in a blanket, listened to my story without interrupting, and pressed a peanut butter sandwich into my hands. For a moment, I felt seen, like maybe I wasn’t invisible after all.

But I didn’t understand the importance of the middle school entrance exam at the time, and I did badly, so I ended up at the same school as Hailey for junior high, and "performed" for her with new classmates for two years. It was two years because Hailey did so badly she was held back a grade.

She looked annoyed. And a little triumphant. I remember the look on Hailey’s face when she realized we’d be in the same school again—a mix of triumph and annoyance. I kept my head down, played the part, and waited for my chance to escape.

But I didn’t understand the importance of the middle school entrance exam at the time, and I did badly, so I ended up at the same school as Hailey for junior high, and kept up the act for her with new classmates for two years. It was two years because Hailey did so badly she was held back a grade.

I was dumb as a child, but I could tell what Hailey was doing—she didn’t want me to study, didn’t want me to do better than her, didn’t want me to be happy.

But I hated going to the same school as Hailey, hated seeing her. Every time I saw her, I’d think of my mother saying I owed her a life. How heavy is a life debt? So heavy that you don’t even dare to breathe freely.

Some days, it felt like I was suffocating, like there was a weight on my chest I couldn’t shake. I could barely breathe. I counted down the days until high school, each one a small victory.

But I hated going to the same school as Hailey, hated seeing her. Every time I saw her, I’d think of my mother saying I owed her a life. How heavy is a debt like that? So heavy you don’t even dare to breathe freely.

Other classmates saw Riley "bullying" me and joined in, often giving me snacks as compensation and keeping my secret from Hailey. I really liked my classmates at school.

We looked out for each other. That’s how you survived. In the classroom, I found a tribe—a group of kids who looked out for each other, who understood that sometimes you had to play the game to survive. They’d wink at me across the lunch table, slipping me a cookie or a juice box when the teachers weren’t watching.

But I didn’t understand the importance of the middle school entrance exam at the time, and I did badly, so I ended up at the same school as Hailey for junior high, and "performed" for her with new classmates for two years. It was two years because Hailey did so badly she was held back a grade.

She looked annoyed. And a little triumphant. I remember the look on Hailey’s face when she realized we’d be in the same school again—a mix of triumph and annoyance. I kept my head down, played the part, and waited for my chance to escape.

But I hated going to the same school as Hailey, hated seeing her. Every time I saw her, I’d think of my mother saying I owed her a life. How heavy is a life debt? So heavy that you don’t even dare to breathe freely.

Some days, it felt like I was suffocating, like there was a weight on my chest I couldn’t shake. I could barely breathe. I counted down the days until high school, each one a small victory.

To avoid Hailey in high school, I took the entrance exam seriously, filled in every answer, and didn’t hide my ability. I wanted to get into a magnet high school that Hailey couldn’t get into.