A bullied girl meets the popular new student.
*****
"Still saying that you're perfectly okay?" Max whispers.
I'm surprised to hear that his voice is shaking.
"I'm going to find who did this to you."
*****
One time, I was the most popular girl in sch...
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When Max steps out of the music room, I can only stare at his back, my heart beating like a drum in my chest.
No matter how I tried to hide my emotions, he could see right through it.
I don't know how I should feel about this. I should feel glad that someone can finally understand what I feel and actually cares, shouldn't I?
But why am I feeling worried?
I'm worried about so many things. I'm worried about him, because he's new here and oblivious about what happened. Worried that once he finds out, he will be just like the rest of the people.
Why would he be different, when nobody has been so?
I ball my fist on the piano and sigh -- I definitely shouldn't stay here any longer. Going home would be better now -- maybe a good warm bath will take my mind off this for a while.
After taking a few deep breaths to calm down, I stand up from the piano bench, sling my backpack across my shoulders and trudge toward the door.
But then, I stop short in my track as I look at the person who just emerges in the doorway.
Rory.
She just stands there, looking at me, her bag slung across her shoulder, like she's ready to go home too. But of all the places she can visit after school, she chooses to come here.
Why is she here?
"Rory?" I stutter, automatically approaching her.
The closer I get to her, the more visible her dark grey eyes, now filled with anger and sadness as she stares at me. I miss those eyes, which used to glint with happiness, with excitement every time she tells me a story.
I feel a lump in my throat again, remembering whose fault it is that I can't see that kind of emotion in her eyes anymore.
It's all my fault.
I want to ask whether she's here to see me, but I'm afraid that I would sound stupid.
Rory's lips form into a thin line, her grip on the strap of her shoulder bag tightens. "I need to talk to you."
I'm stunned. It feels like a miracle that she finally said those words to me, because it's usually me who said that sentence, asking her, begging her to listen to me.
"About my birthday party invitation," she starts, and my heart sinks as I hear her voice crack. "I admit that it was a shitty thing to do. I know that I purposely left you out of the invitation list, because I wanted you anywhere but there."
Tears pool in my eyes, and I'm trying so hard not to break, because those words hurt me to the core.
"Still, it dawned on me that we've been like this for a year," she says. "Last year, I didn't even have a celebration because I was too heartbroken to celebrate anything. It took all the power in me to still go to school after what happened with you and Tyler in the cafeteria."
