9. Mina
Chapter nine
“ H ey Maxy!” A high-pitched, female voice cuts through the cafeteria noise, pulling my attention to the girl standing beside Max, where the three of us are seated. I turn to see her—a stunning girl, slim in all the places I’m not, with sleek blond hair that falls perfectly to her shoulders.
“Tiffany, I told you I don’t like that name. It’s Max, not Maxy, not baby, and definitely not honey.” Max’s tone drips with irritation, and I bite back a small smile behind my sandwich. He really doesn’t like her.
When we got here, the boys pulled food out of their bags and placed half a sandwich in front of me. I tried to give it back, but they wouldn’t hear of it. So I reluctantly started eating. The sandwich had some sort of meat on it, cucumbers, lettuce, cheese and some sort of white sauce, and was the most delicious one I’d ever had. Eating it wasn’t a hardship. I was glad they weren’t trying to feed me as much as they did yesterday, the last thing I wanted was to vomit in front of a cafeteria full of students.
Tiffany places a hand on Max’s shoulder, making my hackles rise in anger, and speaks again. “Oh, you’re so funny, Max! That’s why we get along so well—we have such a similar sense of humor. You’re coming to the party on Friday, right? I thought you could give me a lift? ”
Oh god, this girl. My hands tighten on my sandwich. I want to rip her hand off his shoulder and punch her in the face. Max is my friend, and I don’t want him to be friends with her. Is that weird? He must have other friends, but the thought of him being with other girls makes my blood boil. Get a grip, girl, he’s not yours!
“Sorry, Tiffany, I don’t think so. If I do go, it’ll be with Jasper and Mina, not you,” Max says bluntly, gesturing toward us.
Oh no, why did he say my name? My eyes widen in fear when her sharp gaze lands on me, and her scowl deepens before she smooths it out into a fake smile. She reminds me of my mother, the way she can change her expression so seamlessly.
“Oh, how cute! Is she your sister? I didn’t know she goes here, too!” Her syrupy tone grates on me, and I bite into my sandwich, chewing slowly to avoid glaring at her.
“No, she’s a new student. She started this week,” Jasper replies with a hint of agitation in his voice. Good, he doesn’t like her either.
A glance at Tiffany and see when a lightbulb seems to go off in her head. “Ohhhh… she’s the mute girl,” she says, her voice laced with condescension.
I stiffen. Was there a double meaning in her words?
“That’s so sweet of you guys to befriend someone who’s… so special.”
Is that how everyone sees me? Some charity case student who needs help and pity? I don’t want pity. Is that how Jasper and Max see me? I want them to like me because of who I am. But how can they get to know me if I can’t talk? My stomach churns and I set the last bit of my sandwich down on the table and stare at it in worry .
“Tiffany, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Max snaps, his anger sharp and immediate. “Do not belittle her like that again. Just because she doesn’t talk doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with her.”
His frustration surprises me.
“You could take a note from her book and learn to talk less yourself,” Jasper adds coolly.
“Whatever. You’ll get bored of her silence soon enough. See you later, boys.” Tiffany gives a sultry wave and saunters off like their words have no effect on her.
But her parting words linger. Is she right? Will they get bored of me because I can’t talk to them? I sneak a glance at Jasper and find him already watching me.
“Not gonna happen, Angel,” Jasper says softly. “You could never speak a word, and we’d never grow bored of you.”
His smile is kind, but I’m not sure if I believe him. He doesn’t know anything about me.
The boys exchange a look that seems a little nervous. What could they possibly have to be nervous about?
“We were wondering…” Jasper starts, “do you want to come over and hang out with us after school? We could work through some homework if you’d like—or play a game or watch a movie?”
He seems nervous about my answer, which seems strange to me. I can’t imagine anyone turning him down. I would love to hang out with them—it’s like something out of the movies. We’d become best friends, hanging out every day and laughing at inside jokes. But reality crashes in, and I almost jump back, shaking my head fast. My mother will be expecting me home .
“That’s okay, maybe tomorrow? Or another day…” Max offers quickly, trying to soften the rejection.
I shrug, avoiding their eyes.
“Angel, do you have a cell phone? So we can call or text you tonight?” Jasper asks.
I shake my head.
“We’ll have to fix that,” Max mumbles, almost too low for me to hear. I’m not sure what he means by that. My mother will never allow me to have a phone.
The rest of lunch passes quickly. I realize I only have a few more minutes before my third period art class that I haven’t made it to yet, and need to use the bathroom.
I stand and grab my bag. Max follows, standing with me. “Ready for class, Sweetheart?” he asks with a smile.
I shake my head, unsure how to tell him I need the bathroom. I really don’t want to mime that. He studies me as I shift slightly from foot to foot.
“You want to go somewhere…” he muses aloud, piecing it together.
His eyebrows shoot up in realization as Jasper chuckles behind me. “Ah, yes, let’s take a bathroom break before class, shall we?”
Max takes my hand, and I nod gratefully. The three of us stop outside the bathrooms, as Jasper says, “we’ll wait for you here.” Max releases my hand, and I step into the women’s restroom.
As I finish up in a stall, I hear two girls talking at the counter.
“Did you hear Jack is back in school this week?” one girl asks.
“No way! His sister’s only been gone for two weeks! I’d have used that excuse to stay home the rest of the semester,” the other replies .
“Maybe he didn’t want to be at home anymore. Maybe he needed the distraction?”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s hard to get the image of your sister’s raped and murdered body out of your head.”
What the hell? Raped and murdered?
“Do you think it’s related to the girl that was found in the woods a few months ago?”
“The cops on the news said they weren’t related, but what are the chances? There’s never been any murders here, and now we have two in the same year.” Great. Now I have something else to worry about.
Their conversation shifts to Friday’s party as they leave the bathroom.
As I finish up, washing my hands, I wonder if I really want to escape my house, being stuck in the basement all the time. At least I knew what to expect there. This world feels like it’s spiraling into chaos, and I haven’t even finished my first week.
It took me three days, but I finally make it to my art class. It’s a big room, more like an actual art studio, with easels arranged haphazardly all over the place. The twins introduce me to the teacher, Mr. Dalton, who sets me up at an easel in the corner with my back to the wall. I appreciate that. He’s a large man—not tall, but with a large belly. He seems friendly enough, and I don’t get any weird vibes from him. He explains that students are working on their individual projects and hands me a book on painting techniques to practice.
The class starts to fill, and I notice the blue-haired girl from the hallway the other day. When she sees me, she smiles and comes over. “Hey, you’re in this class! Why haven’t I seen you here yet?” I just shrug and look at my blank canvas, avoiding eye contact .
“I’m Alex, we met the other day.” I give her a little smile and nod to show I remember.
“So you really don’t talk?” she asks in a whisper. I shake my head and play with the paintbrushes at my side.
“That’s so cool. Everyone tells me I talk too much anyway. You’ve got that cool mysterious vibe going on, you know?” She nods as if agreeing with herself, and I relax a little. She seems like she’s genuinely trying to be nice, with no hidden meaning behind her words.
“I have to talk a lot. I have four sisters, so if you don’t make yourself known, you get lost in the crowd, you know?” I nod like I understand, though I don’t.
“Okay, so now we’re friends, you have to tell me—which of the twins are you dating?”
I stare at her in shock. Which one am I dating ?
“It’s Jasper, isn’t it? He seems so protective of you,” she presses, and I just stare at her, unable to answer. Why would she think I’m dating them? I barely know them.
“Oh my God, it’s Max! Ah, he’s so sweet, you two make a great couple!”
I look at her like she’s crazy, but my heart starts beating rapidly at the thought of dating one of them. But quickly, I realize I couldn’t pick one over the other. They’re both so kind and… hot. I’m just lucky to be friends with them.
“Oh my God, girl, are you dating both of them?!” she whisper-shrieks at me.
I look at her with wide eyes and put my finger over my lips in a “shh,” motion, but she takes it the wrong way. “Holy shit, girl, that’s so fucking hot! Every girl at this school is going to be so jealous when they hear!”
I shake my head rapidly, afraid she’ll start spreading that rumor.
She laughs at my reaction. “Don’t worry, secret’s safe with me! But I think people will catch on quickly. Right now, half of them think you’re the twins’ sister, and the other half are trying to figure out which one you’re dating.” I’m not sure why they would care either way.
Mr. Dalton asks the class to get started on their projects, so Alex says bye and goes to her own easel. As class goes on, I read some techniques and try them out on the canvas—not really painting anything yet, just practicing what’s in the book.
Soon enough, the class ends, and I see Max entering before I can even get my bag on my shoulder.
“Hey, Sweetheart, you have a good class?” he asks.
I give him a smile and a nod and he grabs my hand and leads me toward the gym. “You’re going to need to get a gym uniform from Tucker first, so I’ll take you to his office by the gym.”
As we enter his office, Tucker gives me a huge smile. “Good afternoon, Sugar. Glad to see you made it. Thanks, Max, you better get to class. You can meet her right here afterwards.”
I want to object to that. This is the last period of the day, and I won’t be waiting around—I have to get home quickly. Max says his goodbyes, and I’m left with my gym teacher, Tucker Stone, staring at me with his hands in his pockets and a giant smile on his face. He looks at me like he knows a secret and isn’t going to tell me what it is. I can’t stop myself from getting a good look at him. He’s wearing black track pants with a tight fitted dark green t-shirt and an unbuttoned green and black flannel shirt overtop. The colors match my kilt making me think it must be the school’s gym uniform, although I doubt a flannel shirt was part of it .
“Have you ever done yoga before, Mina?” he asks as he opens a cupboard and pulls out some clothing. I shake my head.
“I thought it would be a good activity for you to start with, as it’s gentle movements to help stretch your body. I have a t-shirt, shorts, sweatshirt, and sweatpants for you. You can wear whichever you prefer. Normally, you would go to the girls’ locker room to change…” he trails off as my body stiffens.
I’ve seen a few teen movies, and the locker room always seems to be the place where trouble happens.
“Just as I thought,” Tucker says, noticing my body language. “You’d probably prefer using the bathroom to change. There’s one right here.” He points to a door in his office. “Change there and leave your clothes inside to change back afterward. Nobody else will use it. I’m going to head into the gym. You come out when you’re ready and sit yourself on one of the mats laid out there, alright?”
I nod, thankful that he was letting me change somewhere safe.
“We’ll be doing some other activities after yoga, but I’ll make sure you understand each of them. I won’t let you get overwhelmed. Just give me that double tap if you need anything, alright?”
I nod again, surprised he knew that gym class was new to me. Although Mr. Hargrove did say he told all my teachers about my condition .
“Alright, get going then.” He hands me the gym clothes and motions to the bathroom. I give him a small smile, trying to avoid eye contact as I take the clothes and close myself in the bathroom.
I change into the long black pants and black sweater as they cover the most skin. They fit me well, and when I exit the bathroom, I find a pair of white sneakers right outside the door. I sigh in relief— I hadn’t even thought about how I couldn’t wear my dress shoes. Tucker must have put them here for me.
I put them on, happy to see they fit perfectly, and head into the gym. There are only a couple of students here now, so thankfully my nerves don’t get too high. I see the mats Tucker referred to and choose one at the very end, away from the locker room doors and other students. Tucker glances up and smiles when he sees me. I notice he’s removed his flannel shirt. His t-shirt hugs his frame, putting his muscular chest on display and I try not to stare, but it’s hard. He’s really good-looking, especially for a teacher.
I try to avoid watching him as students come in and talk to him. They seem to like him, he’s friendly and seems to treat everyone with respect. My heart warms a little as I notice he keeps glancing over to check on me. Is he worried about me?
As it gets busier, I start to pay attention to the students around me and notice all the mats are occupied now. I realize I should have chosen a mat at the back instead of the front, but it’s too late now. I try not to make eye contact with anyone but a voice pipes up despite my best efforts at staying invisible.
“Hey, are you new?” a male student behind me asks. I turn my head slightly and nod when I see the boy looking at me expectantly. He has shaggy brown hair and seems so much younger than the twins.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
Oh, great. This is going to get awkward. I break eye contact and look around, noticing the other students watching us. I have no idea what to do so I do nothing, turning back to the front.
“Hey, don’t be rude. He asked you a question,” another male voice says. This one comes from the boy beside the first one, who seems a bit bigger and has really short dark brown hair.
“You too good to talk to us?” the first guy asks, starting to sound upset.
“What a bitch! At least she’s nice to look at from behind though. Come to think of it, I might prefer a girl who’s quiet, anyway. Seen and not heard, right, man?” the second says with a laugh, and the first boy bursts out laughing.
I look down at my hands and notice I’m frantically tapping my fingers against the back of my other hand. This was no double tap, this was getting close to full on panic.
“Reynolds, you know better than to speak in such a disrespectful way.”
I look up and watch Tucker move to stand behind me, arms crossed, glaring at the two boys behind me as he places himself between us.
“We were just trying to say hi, and she was being rude, ignoring us!” the first boy complains.
“Mina is a new student here and is mute, so she can’t speak to you. You can ask her yes-or-no questions, but don’t assume someone is being rude just because they don’t respond. What if she were deaf and didn’t hear you? Next time, be respectful. You two can run laps around the gym until we’re done with yoga.”
They grumble, apologize, then get up and start running around the gym. Tucker looks down at me. “Are you doing okay?”
I nod, feeling my racing heart start to settle. He nods back, moves to the front of the class, and gets everyone’s attention to start class.
He spends the next twenty minutes leading us in a yoga routine, which turns out to be an activity where you hold your body in the most uncomfortable positions possible. The worst part is how it pulls on my stomach and arm injuries, no matter the position. I’m not going to lie, though—watching Tucker bend over again and again isn’t the worst way to spend a class. No, that honor is saved for our next activity: drills.
We have to run back and forth across the gym, going a bit further each time before a beep chimes, making us have to speed up or we’re out. I make it through only two rounds. I hear snickers and laughs when I’m eliminated and have to sit on the sidelines. I feel even worse when the next person doesn’t get out until eight rounds later. I knew my stamina was rough, but this is just embarrassing.
Luckily, after that, we do what Tucker calls cool-down exercises, which are a series of stretches. That’s my favorite part of the class—well, second to watching Tucker do yoga.
When class is dismissed, I quickly head back to his office. I have ten minutes before the end of the school day, so I need to be quick. I notice his bathroom has a shower and eye it jealously. I wonder what that would feel like, I’d give almost anything to have a real shower.
Instead, I get dressed quickly and am relieved to see nobody in the office when I leave. I grab my bag and slip out the side door to avoid Tucker and the twins. I don’t want to get held up, and I have a feeling they wouldn’t let me walk home. I also don’t want them knowing where I live—I’m afraid they’d just show up. My mother would lose it if that ever happened. I’d probably never leave the basement again.
As I leave the school property and head down the sidewalk, I know I’ll make it on time today, and I let out a deep breath of relief.