Conner speaks first, and Andy gives me a dark look, making me instinctively flinch. Samantha wraps her arm around me andnods to Dylan when he says he will go over there in case there’s collateral.
Andy nods, and they start towards Samantha and me. We step away as they walk past. Andy and Conner head to the school’s front, then turn left and jump the fence. They keep going towards the shopping outlet, and Dylan stops at the gate, unsure if he should leave when I tell Sam they should be alright.
Samantha texts Dylan to leave them be, and he returns.
“What’s happening?” Samantha to Dylan.
“Conner wanted to talk to Andy in private, so Andy suggested they leave the school grounds, and Conner agreed,” Dylan answers. “I overheard a little, but I got the vibe that they didn’t want me there.”
“What did Andy say?”
“Something about, ‘If this is about Noya, you wouldn’t understand’. But then Conner interrupted and said, ‘I’m talking, and you’re listening. After I finish, you can say whatever fucking lies you want to keep you sane, but you will listen to what I have to say first’. I was a little intimidated myself.” Dylan laughs nervously.
“No shit,” Samana says.
I grab my phone, enter messages, and text Conner as the bell for class rings. Samantha and Dylan make their way to Hospitality, while I head to Ancient History. As I enter the room, Mr Brown has a hold of my assignment. “I can’t wait to read it!”
I duck my head and move to the middle row of seats, by the window.
Julien is in my class and usually sits behind me. Typically, I won’t notice, and he won’t take note of me, but my senses heighten after learning what he has on his phone. The fear of him tapping me on the shoulder and asking if the photo he has is of me makes my body grow rigid.
“Dude,” Julian whispers to Logan. “Admit that the girl in the photolookshot.”
“That’s what I said to Amber, and she got all pissy at me.” There’s a pause. “Whatever—Mark told me Amber was down, but we have done nothing yet. At least I have this now.”
“My right hand is getting some action tonight, if you know what I mean,” Julien chuckles.
The bile rises, sickening that someone is…that they are…that my body.
I raise my hand.
“Yes, Noya,” Mr Brown calls.
“Can I use the bathroom, please?”
“Sure. Make sure you take a hall pass.”
I grab the hall pass from the desk and walk out. My body feels like jelly, but I need to move and get to the?—
I collide with someone as I take the stairs two at a time.
“Whoa!” they say, their voice familiar. As I lean against the cool bricks, Aaron touches my arm. I flinch away from him, and he raises his hands and says, “Sorry, you just came rushing down the stairs.”
I drag my hand down to my mouth and wipe the sweat accumulating across my upper lip.
“Oh, it’s you, Noya. How’s it going?”
“Go—” I clap my hand over my mouth and rush down the remainder of the stairs and make my way to the toilets. Funny how I ran all that way, and I didn’t vomit. It’s not until I open the lid, lean into the toilet and hurl. My back hunches, and my throat burns from the excess fluid as I imagine the haunting image everyone else is seeing of me.
I may need to go home. I’m sick whenever someone mentions the—I wallow the burning lump in my throat—photo. This isn’t good. I can’t do what I mentally prepared myself to do earlier. It’s like a reaction.
I’ve never looked at myself in the mirror. Not in a long time. And sometimes, I don’t even know what I look like. Whenever I look in the mirror, it’s at the bruises. However, that picture shows me, and I looked at every bone and bruise, feeling disgusted with myself.
Almost everyone in the school has a photo of me. Exploiting and tearing me apart like I’m some science experiment. They’re scrutinising, spreading lies, and twisting their narrative for attention.
I don’t like it.
I want them to leave me alone.