3. Kieran
KIERAN
Of course some jock assholes had to pick on me on day one.
As much as I’m trying not to let it get to me… it is. When they had me circled in the hallway, all I could think was: Maybe being myself isn’t worth it, and maybe I shouldn’t have worn makeup. I could just wait two more years until I get to college. People would be more accepting there, right?
It’s not that I didn’t expect comments. I just don’t understand why I need to be the one who hides or changes who I am. Why couldn’t they just let it go?
I’ve known Jace Ryan since elementary school, even though he seems to have no idea who I am.
From what I’ve noticed over the years, most popular guys love all the eyes on them, but not him.
He’s always been kind of cold and standoff-ish in comparison.
When his friends were obnoxious, he’d tend to hold back.
Looks like he’s finally given up because he was a complete dick today when he decided to make me his target.
I slowly make my way to my locker to grab what I need to head home, then meet Olivia at hers.
She perks up when she sees me. “How was your last class?” she asks, and there’s no point in sugarcoating it.
She saw me a few hours ago when I was going on and on about how great my painting class is going to be, so my shift in mood is obvious.
“Not great,” I admit with a sigh. “Apparently, Jace Ryan decided to drop the nice-guy act and embrace the popular kid bully cliché this year. His little sidekick, David, was there encouraging him, too. Jace called me out about wearing makeup in front of the whole class, then called me Sparkles.” I shake my head, trying to keep my complaint light so I don’t start crying.
“Oh! And he thought calling me gay was an insult. Fucking idiots. I knew this”—I motion to my outfit and face—“was a risk, but if they weren’t such assholes, today would’ve been perfectly fine.
No one else seemed to care, and if they did, they didn’t say anything. ”
“That’s so weird, Jace has always seemed so nice to me,” Liv comments. “Sparkles doesn’t sound too bad though: we love sparkles! Don’t let them get to you, they’ll probably move on by tomorrow.”
I shrug, not really wanting to go into it more. It’s hard feeling so different from my peers, and sometimes I wonder why I can’t just be like everyone else. But that wouldn’t make me happy, and I’ve always hated hiding and pretending to blend in.
Since discovering makeup a few years ago, when I first played around with my mom’s eyeliner, I’ve felt more myself than ever before.
It’s taken time for me to get to the point where I was confident enough to wear it in public, and other than that last class, I’ve felt amazing all day.
I just wish the version of me that made me the happiest didn’t naturally attract assholes.
“Let’s get out of here. I’m ready to go home.
” I sigh, turning to walk out the doors and head to the pick-up area.
She loops her arm through mine, completely unashamed to be seen with me as we leave.
Even if she doesn’t seem to understand how the interaction with Jace and David left me feeling, her acceptance of who I am settles some of my anxiety.
Today might have ended on a low note, but the first day of junior year is officially over, and I’m proud of myself for staying true to what makes me happy.
It’s finally Friday. The first week of school is almost behind me, and I only have one more class to go before the weekend I desperately need.
Because I cut it close on the first day of class, and with Jace stopping me to harass me, the only open seat left was on the side of the aisle facing him. And, of course, our teacher made us keep those seats. Lucky me.
Now, all I have to do is try to ignore Jace once more while he attempts to burn a hole through my head with his eyes, then I get a two-day break. Well, that, and shrug off whatever insult he has waiting for me today.
Every time I’ve walked into class this week, Jace has glared at me and made some comment about my outfit or makeup. To make matters worse, they’ve all been completely unoriginal.
If he’s going to be mean, he should at least be clever.
I truly don’t understand his weird obsession with me or why he refuses to leave me alone. I wonder if he spends all day trying to come up with his snide comments to try to get a laugh out of his dickhead friends.
Probably.
Any other attractive guy looking at me as much as Jace does might be a good thing, but he’s such an asshole that his appearance doesn’t even matter; especially when I know he’s doing it because he hates the way I look.
And, the cherry on top of my not-so-great week is that I learned I have gym with him—and his dad—every other day. As if gym wasn’t already hell on its own. I’m pretty sure his dad hates me too, probably because I’m not athletic enough to exist in his sacred sports temple of a class.
Stepping up to the classroom door, I take a deep breath and steady myself for whatever is about to come my way. I walk in, and Jace is already at his usual desk. As I make my way past him, he says, “Don’t you know it’s not Halloween, Sparkles?”
I don’t even bother stopping, I just roll my eyes and keep walking to my seat, eagerly waiting for the final bell to ring so I can go home where I know I won’t have to see Jace Ryan for two whole days.
Despite how much of a bully he’s been, I’m proud of myself because all week I’ve worn what I’ve wanted and haven’t let his harassment stop me from being myself.
After a boring lecture that I half pay attention to, the bell finally rings. All I’m focused on is getting out of here. I grab my backpack and quickly make my way toward the hallway, but as soon as I’m in the doorway, I feel my backpack being yanked again.
“Let go,” I hiss.
“Shut up,” the voice behind me says, and no surprise, it’s Jace.
He shoves me forward down the hall before stopping and slamming me into a wall of lockers.
My heart rate instantly skyrockets.
Shit.
He hasn’t laid a hand on me before now. My chest is tight, and my skin’s buzzing with panic. The verbal crap sucks, but I can handle it. This, though? This feels unpredictable and dangerous. I’m not built for fights, and I have no idea how far he’s willing to take things.
“Sparkles, I’ve been so patient, but it’s time to cut the crap,” he snaps angrily.
I’m still struggling to understand how my outfit choices are so personally offensive to him.
He’s a lot stronger than I am, though, and the way he has me backed up against the locker is intimidating.
“I told you to stop wearing the girly shit. A bunch of people heard me give you that warning. Yet here we are a week later, and you’re still dressed like this,” he says, grabbing the rhinestone collar of the shirt I’m wearing. “Are you doing it to piss me off?”
Jesus. Is he really that fucking conceited?
“What? No. Believe it or not, Jace, but not everything is about you,” I spit out, hoping I hid the tremble in my voice because I refuse to let him see how rattled he has me.
He glares at me for a long moment; acting as if staring at the makeup on my face hard enough will make it disappear. Finally, he smirks, which only makes the fear in my gut amplify. What could this asshole possibly have to smile about?
“Fine, if you can’t handle it on your own, I’ll help you out,” he offers, and before I process what's happening, he yanks the collar of my shirt hard enough for the seam to rip.
He tears until that side is hanging completely off, effectively ruining it.
He steps back quickly, looking smug as I try to slow my rapid breathing.
“You’re welcome,” he taunts before turning and storming away.
Did that really just happen? It all happened so quickly. My heart is still pounding in my chest, and I’m frozen in place as I try to convince my panicked body the threat is gone. I stare at the spot Jace walked off to, blinking hard to stop my eyes from burning.
I lift my hand up and confirm he really did just rip my shirt. This wasn’t a nightmare. I’m awake, and he ripped my shirt like he had a right to touch me because he didn’t like my outfit.
My fingers twitch with leftover adrenaline as I force myself to peel away from the lockers behind me. I feel sick and exposed, and I can’t go home looking like this.
I hurry to my locker and yank open the door to grab my scissors. My hands are shaking as I bring them up to the mirror, slicing through the rest of the ruined collar while trying not to picture his face when he did it.
I’m not ready to explain any of this to my mom, so once it looks normal enough, I run outside and get in the car with her.
“Hi, honey! How was your day?”
“Hey, Mom. It was fine,” I brush her off. Landing on the half-truth like I have all week. I don’t want her to worry, so I haven’t mentioned the unwanted negative attention. “Can Liv come over tonight?” I ask.
“Of course.” Mom smiles at me. I knew she’d say yes; she always does where Liv is concerned.
As soon as we get home, I head straight upstairs to my room to get on my MacBook to decompress from the week.
Most kids my age don’t have computers in their rooms, let alone a laptop, but my dad is very into getting the latest technology.
I got his old one when he bought the new MacBook Air that recently came out.
It’s been amazing to be able to watch YouTube videos and learn new makeup techniques in the privacy of my room instead of at the built-in desk where our family computer is in the kitchen.
Liv won’t be over for a few hours, so I spend some time on Tumblr before I start watching videos.
After I’m caught up on my favorite creators’ latest posts, I check Facebook, but there must be some kind of glitch because there’s no way I’m actually staring at a friend request from Jace Ryan right now.
What the hell? Why can’t he just leave me alone?
He’s tormented me all week, and now he wants to bring that online too?
Is he running out of insults and looking for more material to make fun of?
Maybe he’s hoping I’ll accept so he can scroll through my posts and find more things to rip me apart for.
God forbid he misses a detail of my life he can weaponize.
I click on his name, fully expecting to see a wall of shirtless mirror selfies and baseball team photos, but his profile’s practically empty. It’s a brand-new account with only eighteen friends so far.
Why is he adding me as one of his first friends?
Does he think this is funny? Like some cruel prank to top off an already miserable week? Seriously, what is wrong with him?
I walk away from my computer, shaking my head, and plop down on my bed. I don’t accept the request. Obviously.
But I don’t delete it either.
Not because I’m interested. I’m not. I just… I don’t know. Maybe because letting it sit there feels like a silent middle finger to him and gives me the smallest feeling of control knowing he’s waiting for me to respond.
Seconds later, there’s a knock on my bedroom door, and Olivia walks in, freezing when she sees my face. “Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
I blink at her. “Jace just tried to add me as a friend on Facebook.”
She snorts loudly in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” I grab my pillow and yell into it.
“Why can’t he leave me alone? He literally goes out of his way to make my life hell at school, and then sends me a friend request?
It doesn’t make sense. The other day he said if I want to hide my face, I should just wear a mask, that it’d be better for everyone, Liv. ”
“He said that to you?” She crosses her arms, looking more confused than I’ve ever seen her. “I don’t get it. He’s always seemed like the nicest of the popular guys. And he’s so hot too. Why does he have to single you out so much?”
“Yup. Jace acts like me wearing makeup as self-expression is a crime, but David bleaching his tips? Totally fine. Guess that doesn’t count since all the ‘cool guys’ decide dark roots and fried blond ends are suddenly in. Fucking hypocrites.”
She comes to sit beside me on the bed, pulling me into a hug. “I’m sorry, K. I wish they would just leave you alone.” Now I’m the one snorting. If only. “Do you think he’s trying to harass you online, too?”
“I’m not about to give him the opportunity to see what I post, even if I am a little curious about what he has on his page,” I admit. “It seems like nothing yet though, he only had eighteen friends, so he must’ve just created it.”
“Do you want me to add him so we can look at it?”
I pick at my blue nail polish as I consider.
I know that Liv has some photos of us on her profile, but I doubt he’d go through the effort of making fun of me on someone else’s page.
That seems like way more work than the half-assed insults he aims at me in class.
“Go for it,” I finally agree, and her face lights up with a wicked grin.
She sits at my desk and easily enters my password, logging out of my Facebook to go into her own account. “Okay, I sent the request. I’ll let you know later tonight if he ends up… Just kidding, he already accepted.”
“Eager,” I mutter as I jump up to peer over her shoulder at the screen.
It looks like all he has is his profile picture he just added of him in his baseball uniform.
“It’s a shame he’s such an asshole because these uniforms could definitely convince me to go to a game.
But I would never risk letting him see me there. Besides, it’s so boring.”
Liv nods in agreement. “He really is attractive,” she says on a sigh.
Other than the baseball picture and some general info about what town he lives in and the name of our school, the rest of his profile is pretty bare.
“I’ll keep an eye on it and let you know if he posts anything interesting,” she promises.
“You’re the best.”
She lets me practice a gold smoky eye on her using the new palette I just got, and for a few hours, I manage to forget about the weirdest Facebook notification of my life.