Brianna

The rest of the week passes in a blur. Toby takes me to school, Jace meets me from there. He walks me to class, and then show up again at lunch. Since I'm living with Toby for the time being, it's pretty unnecessary for him to meet me for lunch, so Jace has me stick with him. But then he once again walks me to class, and meets me after school to fulfill his guard duties until Toby picks me up. Sometimes I wonder how much he's getting paid to do this.

And it's not working, anyway. All they do now is catch me on passing periods. Lincoln's not stupid enough to be caught running with them, but I know they're doing his work for him. And now they don't even need a reason to hate me. The entire school does, and I don't even know why. But I've probably had more tardies this week than in the rest of my life combined.

No one knows, though. That's the good part. Jace has no way of finding out, really, and, especially since they know my parents are in major trouble, there's no one to call even if the school did care enough to notice the pattern. And they're smart enough not to bruise my face.

By Friday, my entire body aches constantly. Lincoln is an expert at hurling verbal abuse at me and making it really sting. You can't spend years as best friends and not know the breaks in each other's armor. His friends aren't as good at that part... at least the ones who have been catching me in between classes aren't. They just resort to using me as a punching bag until I feel like one too, sneaking in a horrible kiss just to watch me writhe in fear, and then letting me go, just in time to get me to class before it's too suspicious.

Besides, Tila and Lisa make up for the missing insults while we're in class together just fine.

It's the same old story as every other day this week as I try to push through the people in between me and my second class.

I feel a pressure on my backpack, and the next thing I know, it's being yanked hard enough to pull me off of my feet. I land hard and immediately try to scramble back up, ignoring the laughter from my passing classmates, but I boot connects with my face, and I'm down again.

And everyone takes their cue, lending their own feet to my misery as they flow past.

I'm serious... what did I do to them? I don't even know their names, and yet they freaking hate me.

I stop trying to get up after a while, but it doesn't make them stop. So, pathetic as it might me, I curl into myself in a vain attempt to try to protect my battered body.

By the time the second bell has sounded, it's just me and my tormentors... just Brandon and Trevor this time.

"Alright, on your feet, you lazy, pathetic little ****," Brandon sneers.

I don't move.

"I said get up!" He's immediately furious, yelling, and jumping on top of me to haul my upright. I've learned to expect that from him, though... he flies off the handle at the drop of a pin.

He slams me into a locker, but all I can do is groan lightly as it highlights the pain of every other bruise on my body... old and newly acquired from my time on the floor.

"So, Bri," Trevor takes over, stepping forward to talk to me while Brandon holds me down. "We've noticed that you seem to wear the same kinda clothes like every day of your life. A hoodie and leggings, like you don't own anything else. So we thought we could spice up your wardrobe a little."

If they touch my clothes, I swear...

"We thought of something really easy to start with," Brandon adds. "So just hold still. After all, you do a fine job of cutting up your arms yourself. You certainly don't need our help with that."

Wait... what?

Trevor withdraws a pocket knife from his jeans, and takes a step closer. "You hold still and stay quiet, I make my mark and let you go. If you don't, I'll take our little kiss from yesterday a step further. Got it?"

I nod, too scared to speak.

"Great," he says, grinning without any mirth in the look. "Give me your arm."

I hand it to him, hating the way it shakes as I do.

"******* coward," he mutters under his breath. "You're fine, ****."

Swiftly, he takes hold of my sleeve of my hoodie and, in a few fell movements, cuts it off from the elbow. He does the same with the other one, uses one of the scraps to tie my hands behind my back, snaps a photo, and they swagger off, leaving me to try to struggle my way free.

When I finally do, I run to the bathroom, tossing the hoodie since dance is this period anyway, pull up my long-sleeved leotard, which I wear around my waist all day, and rush to class. Twenty-six minutes late. Amazing.

I keep my head down as I slink into class dumping my backpack, changing my shoes, and muttering an apology to Becky on my way past her to slide onto the back of the barre' and join into the current combination.

She just reaches out and rubs my back briefly as I pass. It's a much nicer answer than I get in my other classes.

"What happened, Bri?" Tila, who I was lucky enough to end up next to, hisses to me when we're finished with the combination and Becky's back is momentarily turned. "Did you get caught in the bathroom staring at how fat you look in a leo?"

I don't answer, staring at the ground.

"I wonder," she continues. "Do you cut your stomach, or just your arms? That it'd be a different feeling... cutting into that much fat. Wouldn't it?"

Once again, I do my best to ignore her, and Becky turns around, so she falls silent for the time being. It doesn't last long. She usually keeps her comments to a minimum in this class, but today she doesn't seem to be able to hold herself back, sneaking in another every chance she gets. It doesn't matter what it's about... my weight, my intelligence, my dancing ability, my cutting... anything goes with her. And by the time we move to do floor work, it's taking everything in me to show no outward sign of the struggle I'm having to hold back tears.

We go into a typical across-the-floor exercise, a series of small jumps into one bigger one... which today is a leap. And it's scary how much my entire body hurts, its soreness magnified by the intense barre' and floor work we just did.

I struggle through the combination until I attempt to launch into my glissade. My knee, which Brandon messed up yesterday when he slammed me into the sidewalk, locks, and I land awkwardly, but muscle memory takes over and I flow into what's usually an effortless leap, barely leaving the ground this time as my knee locks again, this time sending me to the floor.

I feel my cheeks beginning to burn as I pick myself up off the floor, taking Becky's offered hand.

"Are you okay?" she asks worriedly. "What happened?"

"I just pulled something stretching," I mutter back, and hurry to return to the line of other dancers, who are all currently giggling without showing it enough to get told to stop. Tila turns to me with a smirk.

"It's hard to jump when you weigh as much as you do, isn't it, Bri?"

The comment was too quiet for anyone else to hear, but Becky's voice answers it anyway.

"Tila, unless you're checking to make sure Bri is alright, which you're obviously not, how about you focus on improving your own dancing, alright?"

Tila winces, turning away from me without answering our teacher. But I'm sure I'll be in for it later.

By the end of the period, I'm exhausted, and I ache all over even more than I usually do. All I want is to go to the bathroom and cry, but with Jace, I know that's not an option. I pull my extra hoodie over my head before painfully lifting my backpack onto my shoulders and turning to the door. But one step that way and I feel a hand on my shoulder.

I look back to meet my teacher's concerned gaze. "Hey, are you sure you're okay, Bri?" she asks. "That didn't look like a strained muscle. Did you hurt your knee this week?"

I shake my head hurriedly. "No. I... I'm not sure what happened but I'm fine."

She looks less than convinced, and glances at the open door, where I see Jace waitng for me.

"He's your bodyguard, huh?" she asks quietly, a sad note to her voice.

There's no use in lying, so I nod wordlessly, keeping my eyes on the ground.

She returns the gesture, and walks over to him, offering a small smile.

"Is it alright if I steal her for lunch this time?"

"Absolutely," he replies easily. "I'll see you after school, Bri."

I raise a hand to him in farewell, feeling my stomach tighten in nervousness. Obviously, Becky isn't going to let this go that easily. She turns to me, a gentle look on her face.

"We haven't talked in a while," she says quietly. "Can we catch up over lunch?"

I know there's nothing I can say but yes. And anyway, I do love Becky. I just... I'm scared of how much she cares.

But I force a smile anyway, walking over to where she motions for me to sit down across of her on the polished wooden floor.

"Sure."

Well, it was late, and it sucked, but it was there. Sorry about the wait and the poor quality. I'll try to do better next time.