Internal and physical markings spread across my body from all the years, showing me how damaged I am.
I reach out to the mirror. Reaching for the girl without a bruise. Desperate to be the girl I’ve always wanted to be.
Conner sings, tearing me away from my maladaptive daydream. I open my eyes and face him. His eyes are closed, and his hands grip the phone as the chorus plays on his lips.
Soft—alluring. A part of me thinks he’s singing to me, like he can see that I’m not who I want to be.
The way I act and how reserved I am.
His eyes open, and the hazel glistens in the sunlight. Looking at me, he smiles while the song fades out of existence.
We sit up, and I hand him the cord. He spins them around before pocketing his phone. Afterwards, he leans on his elbows and looks at the dead tree. “Something happened to you, didn’t it?”
“What?” I say as if I didn’t hear what he said.
“Someone hurt you. That’s why you don’t like violence. Was it an ex-boyfriend?”
“I…” The words won’t leave my mouth. It’s as if all the powers within me are trying to force the words back in and keep the secret hidden so Conner won’t get involved.
“You don’t have to tell me the details, but can you answer yes or no?” Conner reaches for me before his hands lower to the grass near my clenched hands. “Did someone hurt you? Is that why you’re so withdrawn, flinching, and you don’t like violence? Because you’ve seen it and…” Conner swallows before he can manage saying, “Felt it.”
I pluck the grass away from the dirt. My teeth clench, and my throat stings. There’s also a burning behind my eyes, but I don’t want to think too much about it.
Why? Why does he have to get involved? And I can’t lie. He already knows the answer and is just waiting for me to confirm it.
A shaky, trembling breath comes out with my answer. “Yes.”
Conner goes rigid before his shoulders slump. The hands near me move back to his side when all I want is for them to come closer.
I blink, forcefully pushing the tears back in because all I need is sympathy when I don’t want it.
Andy does it all the time, and it’s one of the many reasons it’s hard to share my thoughts with him. He sees me as a broken toy, and now Conner is pulling away, likely doing the same.
“The bell will ring soon. We should head to the room my friends are in.” My eyes widen, and I look at Conner through my glassy, blurry vision. He lowers his hand to me, offering me help to stand. A beaming grin reaches his face as he says, “Come on. You’ll love it.”
He didn’t change. That smile is still there, and he isn’t babying me like Andy. There’s no sympathy, nor does it look like he sees me as a broken toy.
I hold his hand, and he helps pull me to my feet. I then grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, and we walk towards the school.
As the bell rings, all the worry about how Conner sees me washes away with every ring.
12
ROLE PLAYING
We makeour way towards the drama room on the second floor in Block F. It has been a while since I’ve been here. I think the last time was Year Seven Drama—one of the mandatory classes, and I hated it.
After my awkward attempt at acting, the drama teacher let me sit at the back of the class. She never called my name for the remainder of the year.
Even she knew I was hopeless at acting.
Conner stops at the door furthest down the corridor. Loud noises come from within. I arch my brow and eye him as he takes a deep breath and opens the door. Seated at a long table are three guys. They have a board game with tiny figurines and props in the centre of the table.
A thin, shaved-headed person described the figure as the “Sorcerer Lord that can do transmutation spells”. The bigger guy scoffs and raises his figurine, saying that his Warlock had a powerful pact with a demon.
“What’s this?” I say in a hushed voice to Conner.
“Are you familiar withDungeons & Dragons?”