Chapter Two
Rosalie
By lunch time, I have an emblem of peace. It isn’t much, but it’s what I need to take a breath. The mess hall is filled with boisterous, noisy teens, pushing and shoving to reach their designated tables. I pinpoint the lone one in the farthest corner, thankful it’s still open.
As I walk through the rows, I hear tittering laughter aimed at me.
Eyes burn into the side of my skull, and I make quick work of securing my table.
I scarf down my sandwich with my back turned towards the room so no one can see just how hungry I am.
It leaves me as a target, but it’s better than the stares of pity from teachers or the harsh looks of judgment from my peers.
Halfway through the day.
Four more hours.
I chug my water, only taking a break to gather my things before I push up from my chair and return my tray to the kitchen. I keep my head down as I walk out to the study hall to wait for my next class. I’m passing the gym when one of the heavy doors swings open, and I freeze.
Kairo and Roman are talking quietly to one another, and Maddox hangs back as he listens. They’re still dressed in their gym outfits and glistening with sweat.
They don’t notice me either.
I try to keep it that way, mumbling an ‘excuse me’ as I skirt around them. But it seems fate has other plans.
“Dirt!” Kairo smiles devilishly. “What’s the chance of bumping into you? We were just talking about you.”
I don’t bother stopping to ask, but that doesn’t deter them from following.
“Have you checked your locker recently?” Roman smirks cruelly. “I think the teachers may be looking for something…”
Maddox snickers, a joke I’m not in on passing right over my head. I keep walking, but don’t let on to the trepidation and fear coursing through my veins. My anxiety kicks up as I speed down the hall that houses my locker.
Truthfully, I haven’t opened it in months.
After the last time, I chose to stay far away from this side of the school.
Opening my locker to find multiple cans of busted soda spilling out of it was the worst. It was made even more horrific as Mr. Burt, the janitor, stood beside me with a trash can propped next to him and his hands on his hips as he watched me clean it up.
As students began to change classes, giggles and whispers could be heard about my sticky situation.
It was humiliating.
But apparently not as humiliating as this.
I’m smacked in the face with a sour, acidic smell. It clings to the hall, making my stomach curdle as teachers rip open locker after locker in search of the source. The principal, Mrs. Hurst, stands at the head of the entourage, her manicured hands holding her skirted hips as she taps a heel.
Students linger, gathering their books with green faces before leaving for their next class. I get a few side-eyes as people pass me, and I feel like I could sink into the ground.
As my locker is ripped open by my biology teacher, Mrs. Dunn, her head rears. “Found it!”
I stare aghast as the curdled milk oozes like sludge before sloping onto the floor. There’s a snort from a girl gathering her textbooks across the hall, and all eyes trail to me.
My face heats with embarrassment as Mrs. Hurst crosses her arms. “Rosalie Beckett. I should have known. The soda incident didn’t seem like a one-off.”
“Oooo,” comes Kairo’s taunting voice. “That sounds like detention for Dirt.”
I clear my throat, hating how meek and timid I sound as the principal nears me. “I-I didn’t do it—”
Mrs. Hurst doesn’t buy it as she glowers down at me. “You’re the only person who knows your locker combination, Ms. Beckett. Per Mystic High’s rules, students are prohibited from sharing lockers, cubbies, or textbooks. Are you admitting to sharing your information with another student?”
My mouth moves, but no sound comes out. I haven’t said anything to anyone. I don’t even know how they did this.
“That’s what I thought.” Mrs. Hurst shakes her head in disappointment. “Such a great mind, but behavioral mishaps are what tarnish your record. Two days of detention, and you’re cleaning this mess up.”
I roll my lips in, sniffling and blinking rapidly to clear my tears as I nod in resignation.
The principal narrows her eyes at the boys behind me. “Would you happen to have anything to do with this, Mr. Ridley?”
Kairo holds his hands up, faking innocence. “Me? Never.”
The principal hums. “I will be checking the surveillance feed. Mr. Briggs, Mr. Campbell, I suggest that if any of you had anything to do with this, now is the time to speak up.”
No one answers her.
“Very well,” she dismisses us, and I’m left staring at my vandalized locker. Kairo, Roman, and Maddox chuckle as they pass me.
“Have fun cleaning up,” Kairo calls.
“You may need this,” Roman sneers as he kicks a trash can towards me.
Maddox looks down with a curled lip at the yellow, stained floor where the milk is oozing into the cracks. “Hands and knees with a toothbrush, Dirt.”
I close my eyes, giving myself the reprieve I need before shuffling forward and pushing the trash along with me. Mr. Burt pokes his head out of a classroom, handing me a mop and paper towels without a word before he returns to spring cleaning.
I drop to my knees, wincing at the dull ache that creeps into my bones.
The covered bruises I bear are never on display unless they’re on my face—the one spot I can’t cover.
To an outsider looking in, it’s easy to write off my black eyes or swollen cheeks as accidents.
A few teachers have called CPS, but the system is fickle.
With no one or nowhere to go, I’m left to my own devices.
I appreciate the few who do try. It shows me that there’s still some good in the world, and that smidge of innocence is what I cling to oftentimes.
As the days progress, it becomes harder and harder to hold out for hope after graduation. Sometimes I get stuck in that dark loop of wondering what it would be like to just…give up.
Let go of it all.
I try not to dwell on it, but it’s hard when it feels like there’s a disease constantly eating away at you—infecting the parts of yourself that once seemed whole and bright.
My hands still, hovering over the mess in front of me as a profound, heavy sensation pangs through my limbs. It makes my chest ache, and I grit my teeth before shaking myself out of it.
Not here.
Not now.
I collect what I can in the paper towels, gagging as I toss my long-abandoned notebooks and pencils into the trash can. They’re ruined.
Everything is ruined.
I snatch the mop, my fingers biting into the handle as I run it messily over the stain at the base. I try to get in the cracks, because if I don’t, Mr. Burt will come looking for me and make me start over again.
I’m mopping like I have a personal fucking vendetta against the dirty tiles when a coarse voice shatters my concentration.
“I heard if you mop too hard, you can throw out your elbow.”
I peer over my shoulder, stunned by the tall brunette watching me with a small smirk. Her features are delicate and friendly as she pops a hip and places a hand on it. She’s dressed in jean shorts with little embroidered suns on the thighs and white high-tops.
She’s definitely new.
I’ve never seen her around before…
Her plump lips thin as she tilts her head. “Just keep staring at the new girl, why don’t you? What a welcoming atmosphere.”
I blink, breaking eye contact as I stare down at the floor. “Sorry…”
She watches me closely, and I can feel her eyes as if they’re peering through to my center. “It’s okay. I’m Charlie.” She shoves her hand towards me, offering an olive branch as her smile returns. “What’s your name?”
I stare at her hand, my throat closing at the thought of touching her. “Rosalie.”
Her eyes light up as she draws her appendage back. “That’s a pretty name!”
My skin crawls with the compliment. “Thanks?”
She doesn’t notice my discomfort as she places her hands on her hips and sighs down at my half-cleaned mess. “What are we doing here?”
I’m stunned for a moment, stumbling over my words. “I-I’m, umm, cleaning?”
“Need some help?” She asks, but doesn’t wait for a response before bending down and ripping some of the paper towels off the roll. I watch her, dumbfounded as she begins to scrape up everything I left over.
“Are you going to help me, or just stand there staring?” She chuckles, jolting me into action as I crouch down beside her.
We fall into a comfortable silence as she scrapes the curdled milk out of the cracks. I run the mop over everything once she’s done, appreciating our teamwork as the floor sparkles.
Charlie tosses her used paper towels into the trash can before dusting her hands. “What class do you have next?”
“Music,” I mumble as I close my locker.
“I have music too!” She gushes. “My dad is a music producer, and he convinced me to take it as an elective. Is it hard?”
She links her elbow with mine, causing my shoulders to tense as I turn away from her. My stomach clenches painfully as I hide my hiss. My heart pounds so hard I think I’m going to pass out before she quickly releases me.
“Are you okay?” I can hear the concern in her voice, but I can’t look her in the eyes. Not until I can gather my bearings.
I nod, taking deep breaths as the feeling of her hands on my elbow gouges into my subconscious like a knife. I know it didn’t hurt, but I can’t stop my reactions to physical touch. No matter how hard I try, it never gets easier.
Distract yourself.
Say something.
“The…The only hard part is when we have to sing.” I manage past trembling lips. I take one final breath, schooling my features before facing her. “It’s an easy grade.”
Her worried face melts into another soft smile. “Well, since I’m new, do you mind if I stick with you? I don’t really know anyone here.”
I rub a hand over my elbow, a nervous habit I picked up over the years. “I…you don’t want to be friends with me.”
Her head rears as I’ve slapped her. “What? Why not?”
My neck flames with embarrassment. “People will target you—”
“And I’ve got something for them,” she holds up her balled fist, smirking. “Don't worry about what anyone thinks of me. I think you’re cool, and you’re going to keep me company while I try to figure this new school out. Capiche?”
“Capiche? Who says that?” I snort.
Her mouth falls open in shock before she smiles. “Oh, you’re funny too? Yeah, I’m keeping you.”
I don’t know what that means, but little did I know that it would be the start of my first real friendship and my future career.