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ARK POV
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If shame had a sound, it would be the echo of that pen hitting the floor.
I still hear it- sharp, metallic, final. The sound that gave me away. The sound that tore whatever dignity I had left into pieces. I didn't mean to see it. I didn't want to. But I did. And now… they know.
Melissa saw me. Jade saw me. And what's worse- they didn't care.
Not really.
She looked annoyed.
He looked amused.
And me?
I looked pathetic. Like some obsessed little girl hiding in corners, spying on moments I had no business witnessing. That's probably what they think.
Maybe that's what I am.
I couldn't sleep that night. My body was still, but my mind was chaos. I kept replaying it-Melissa's kiss, Jade's hands on her waist, and that smug little smirk he gave me as I walked past them like I didn't matter. Again.
Maybe I never did.
I told myself I wouldn't cry.
I failed.
I cried into my pillow until it felt like the weight of the entire day was sinking into my bones. I didn't just feel embarrassed- I felt exposed. Raw. Like every inch of me had been peeled back for them to laugh at.
And I knew it wasn't over.
The looks from Melissa and her clique during lunch, the whispers behind the bleachers, the lies being passed around like candy- it was all building toward something.
I didn't know what.
But I could feel it coming.
I thought school was going to be easy, but this is far from easy. Feels like am been followed by a curse.
The next morning, I sat on my bed staring at my scarf.
I hated it.
I hated what it meant- protection, silence, hiding. And yet I needed it. I didn't know who I was without it. Just a face with a many scars and a thousand stories people would write without ever asking me to tell my own.
I wrapped it around tightly.
Maybe too tightly.
But at least it gave me something to grip when the world spun too fast.
Thank God, It was Friday. All I needed to do was avoid people eyes and stay out of sight.
At school, I moved like a ghost.
I arrived early, sat at the back, kept my eyes on the board. I didn't want to exist anywhere else- especially not near Jade. Especially not after yesterday.
And yet…
He sat behind me again.
Like he always did.
It's not like he had a choice. He would sit with me for the entire year. This even makes it hard than I thought it would.
He sat close enough that I could feel his breath when he leaned back in his chair. Close enough that I almost forgot he was poison.
Almost.
"Morning," he said under his breath.
I didn't respond.
I didn't even flinch.
I kept writing, hand steady, heart caged in frost.
He waited.
When I didn't reply, he let out a quiet breath- almost like a chuckle. But it wasn't amused. It was… curious.
I don't know what game he's playing anymore. I don't even know if it is a game. All I know is, the version of me from last week- the one who stumbled into his arms, the one who felt something from a kiss through a scarf- that girl is gone.
She has to be.
I tried my best not to unfold towards Jade. He was laying his head on the table, looking at me like I was some show or something. His face was fixed on whatever I was doing.
Ark. You are stronger than this. But when those eyes would meet with mine. I couldn't help myself. The colour of his eyes is beautiful for a guy.
At lunch, I sat alone again. Far from the trees. Far from the quad. Far from the whispers that followed me like shadows.
But they still found me.
A note.
Folded twice, slipped into my locker.
I opened it, hands shaking slightly. Inside, scribbled in sloppy, almost lazy writing were three words:
"You spying now?"
No name. No signature.
But I knew.
Jade...
Or Melissa
Of course.
I wanted to scream. To tear the paper in half. To scream at the sky and ask why she was doing this to me. Why she couldn't just leave me alone but it seems like she enjoys doing this. And this was all Jade's doing. Why? He kept pushing, watching, pressing- like he was waiting for me to break.
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
That's what I told myself.
Even as the tears came again.
When I stood up.
The whispers were louder. The stares longer.
And Melissa? She was watching me now.
Not with hate.
Not even with anger.
With something worse.
Pity.
She walked past me in the hallway and said, "Cute scarf," like it was some kind of joke. Her friends laughed like they knew the punchline.
But I didn't flinch.
I didn't stop.
I didn't look back.
I just kept walking.
I made it to the bathroom before the first tear slipped out. I locked myself in a stall and stared at the graffiti on the wall, wondering if any of the people who wrote these ugly, anonymous things had ever felt the kind of shame that sticks to your skin no matter how many showers you take.
It got worse after that.
A paper note stuck to my desk during class:
"Creep" "Stalker" "Obsessed bitch"
A whisper from the back of the classroom:
"Heard she was hiding in a closet. Creepy, right?"
And Jade?
He never denied any of it.
Never corrected them.
Never said a word in my defense.
He just kept showing up. Sitting close. Looking at me like I was some experiment he hadn't figured out yet.
And I kept holding myself together by threads.
It's Friday, only a few hours left.
By then, i will be gone.
I was in the library during PT, away from everyone, staring at a blank page in my notebook. I didn't hear him come in.
But I felt him.
Jade.
He stood besides me, bold as ever.
I didn't look up.
"You mad at me?" he asked, as if he didn't already know.
I closed my notebook slowly. "Why would I be at you? And ain't you doing PT"
"You tell me. I'm tired so I came to rest"
I looked at him for the first time in days. His face was unreadable- no smirk, no flirt. Just… blank.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, voice quieter than I meant it to be.
"Doing what?"
"This," I snapped. "The notes. The stares. The games. You let them laugh at me. You let her- kiss you. Twice."
He leaned back, folding his arms. "I didn't ask her to."
"But you didn't stop her."
"Would it have mattered if I did?"
I stared at him, stunned by the carelessness in his voice.
"You think this is funny?" I whispered.
His jaw tightened, but only for a second. "No. I think it's messy. And why are you upset about it. Did you have feelings for me. Mhmm."
I laughed bitterly. "Have feelings? You kissed me first."
"What. Wait. You fell on me."
"You held me."
"Why are you freaked out about it. It's not like we kissed. It was through a scarf," he said, like that somehow changed everything.
It did.
But not the way he thought.
I straightened up, heart pounding.
"Oh. So that's what you consider it as." I said. "Even at that. Why did you tell people."
He leaned forward. "Me, tell people. I thought you did, because you wanted to make people jealous but I haven't heard people talking about. I think we should talk about you hiding in...", he said with a smirk in his face but before he could finish his sentence. I pushed him.
"I wasn't. Okay."
And with that, I walked away.
Not fast. Not scared.
Just… done.
But for once, I didn't flinch.
Because whatever Jade saw or didn't see- whatever he felt or faked- it wasn't about my face.
It was about how easy it was to hurt someone and act like it didn't matter.
And I wasn't going to let him do that again.
Not to me.
Not ever.
I walked out of the library, each step heavier than the last- but firmer, too. A part of me wanted to scream. To break something. To feel the pieces scatter just to remind myself that I could still destroy things if I wanted to.
But I didn't.
I walked in silence, letting the echo of my shoes fill the empty corridor.
I headed straight to the restroom. Locked the door. Washed my hands, even though they weren't dirty. I just needed something to do with them. Something to ground me.
That push-:I regretted it the moment my palms met his chest.
But not because I hurt him.
Because I gave him a reaction.
And people like Jade fed off reactions. Off vulnerability. Off people like me.
When the final bell rang, I didn't rush out like I usually did. I stayed behind. Let the classroom empty. Gave Melissa no excuse to corner me in the hallway. No audience for whatever stunt she might've been plotting next.
I walked outside with my eyes down, scarf pulled high.
The sky had darkened- heavy with clouds but still holding back the rain. I preferred it that way. Dull weather matched how I felt inside. Bright days felt like lies.
My mom was parked in her usual spot. I climbed in quietly, murmured a soft "Hey," and buckled up. She gave me a glance- one of those worried, searching looks she tried to hide behind a smile. But she didn't ask questions.
And I was grateful for that.
The ride home was quiet. I pressed my forehead against the window, watching the trees blur past. Each one looked the same, yet they moved by so fast I couldn't tell where one ended and the next began.
That's how this whole week felt-;one long blur of shame and silence and fear, stitched together by passing faces and the weight of my own thoughts.
When we got home, I skipped dinner and went straight to my room. I lay on my bed, motionless. My phone buzzed a few times. I ignored it.
Then came a message from an unknown number:
"Hey, I saw what happened today. If you ever wanna talk, I'm here."
I stared at the screen for a long time, then locked my phone and turned it face-down on the bed.
Who was this?
Where… how… and why did they have my number?
I didn't want sympathy.
I wanted peace.
But somewhere deep down, I knew peace wasn't coming anytime soon.
Saturday.
I woke up before sunrise, stomach aching-not from hunger, but from the bruise Melissa left behind. A part of me still couldn't believe she hit me. That she got away with it. That she might even be planning to do it again.
The bruise under my shirt wasn't visible, but I could feel it with every small movement. The scar on my cheek, the one that curved beneath my chin- from my ear to my jaw- felt sharper today, even though I knew it hadn't changed. Funny how fresh pain can resurrect old wounds.
But I didn't cry.
Not this time.
Around noon, the unknown number called.
Not texted- called.
I stared at the screen until it stopped ringing.
Then it rang again.
This time, I picked up.
Silence.
Only the sound of someone breathing on the other end.
"Hello?" I said.
But the caller said nothing.
Then hung up.
I froze.
Who was this?
My grip on the phone tightened.
Was it… Jade?
With just a few blinks, Sunday came. Then Monday.
Back to school. Back to the same halls. The same faces. The same silence.
Jade was already seated when I walked into class. His hood was up, headphones in, arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to disappear too.
I ignored him.
Took my seat.
Opened my book.
Didn't look back.
But the tension between us? It was heavy. Like a second presence in the room. Like static before a storm.
I knew this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
And something inside me had shifted.
I was more afraid of him now. Scared, even.
If he could get my number… then what else could he do?
What else would he do?
But somewhere, deep inside all that fear… something else stirred.
He texted me. Asked if I was okay.
Does that mean he cares?