Chapter 4: Public Humiliation

One night, she used my phone again and the popular girl—Riley—walked by and pressed speaker. All that came out was a string of busy beeps.

Phones out, whispers snaking through the room. Nobody tried to help. Riley burst out laughing. She winked at me: “Hey, first time I’ve heard a busy signal that can talk. Have you ever heard that before? Always finding excuses to borrow your phone, and says she doesn’t even like you?”

Her sidekick, Jamie, immediately started making a scene, singing an old song: “Like you.”

Half the class started chanting. “Like you.” “Like you.”

“Heard you were desk mates in middle school.”

“Heard her family has a big house, congrats, son-in-law.”

“Hehe, and a piano room, so rich.”

“Her mom loves her so much, mother-in-law loves the son-in-law even more… wow—”

“She never did her own laundry until thirteen, you won’t have to do yours either.”

Her mouth dropped open, and tears immediately welled up, but all she said was: “My mom really treats me well. She really… really does, she’s always treated me well since I was little, don’t say that. My family really has a big house, my mom decorated the piano room herself—for two hours of practice every day, if it wasn’t enough she would teach me, these scars, she hit me out of love…” Her hands twisted the hem of her hoodie, knuckles white. Her voice was trembling, but she clung to the story like it was a life raft.

She never explained anything about liking or not liking, just kept repeating her mom’s clumsy lies. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, more than anyone else.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. The fake call echoed in the silent room, louder than anyone’s laughter.

I felt the blood rush to my head and slammed the desk: “Even if you liked me, I wouldn’t be interested, just look at yourself.”

The words tasted like battery acid. I wanted to take them back, but Shellie just stared at me—eyes wet, mouth clamped shut.

I didn’t dare meet her eyes, couldn’t bring myself to apologize, so I angrily shoved aside the boys making a scene and left. I stomped down the hall, my heart beating like a drum solo.