Chapter 4
Lunch hour on the toilet in the third floor washroom had become Taylor’s daily routine. Every school day, she would finish off her brown bag lunch, do homework, or read a book until lunch was over.
She had given up eating in the cafeteria after the trio’s repeated efforts to ruin her appetite with their humiliation. They would accidentally trip her if she passed them while waiting for hot food. Or Sophia would walk past and then suddenly turn, like she was responding to someone calling her name, in time to spill whatever messy thing she had on her plate, like extra saucy spaghetti. After weeks of wearing random splotches of whatever they spilled on her, hiding in the washroom and avoiding it all had been easier.
Today was different. When Rhiyen casually asked if she wanted to join him for lunch, a thrill of fear mixed with anticipation went through her at the thought. He would guard her. Finally, she could relax some of her vigilance and let someone else handle some of the harassment she’d grown so used to. It was hard to wrap her mind around the change, the feeling of security, having him by her side. As they walked down the hallway to the cafeteria, a niggling anxiety rose into her throat.
How much could she rely on him? How much of her guard could she let down before he decided she wasn’t worth guarding so closely or his attention wandered? She slowed down as she pondered this, noticing that he matched her shorter stride without remarking on it. She nearly lost her nerve at the cafeteria entrance but steeled herself and stepped through. Nobody was paying any attention to them. She followed Rhiyen to the serving line, using her peripheral vision to scan the room for the trio. She found them laughing together next to a table where some boys from the track team were eating. They hadn’t noticed her presence yet. Good.
She followed him to a table near the wall, pleased that he was so decisive about where to sit. She sat down and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax the tension in her shoulders. Having the wall at her back made it easier, knowing that she wasn’t going to be attacked from behind. Rhiyen’s offer of milk was amusing and also touching. She felt a warm glow at the thought that he was considering her long-term health.
While eating her pita wrap, she watched the trio through her hair as they walked away from the boys and sat down at a table nearby. She saw Sophia glance in her direction with a smirk and then turn her back, whispering with Emma in low tones while Madison made eyes at one of the track team. Her anxiety choked her again as she wondered what they would try, now that they had noticed her presence. She had to focus on chewing and swallowing past the ugly, sour feeling that stewed in her stomach. Would they ever give up?
Taylor looked up in surprise at a quick motion from Rhiyen, as he caught something in the air that was heading her way. His reflexes were so fast that it astonished her. He stalked over to the track team table, confronting them immediately. She imagined she could feel a slight chill, like an aura of menace gathering around him, as he faced down the whole team without the slightest hesitation, his voice a harsh growling tone.
How did he get so brave? He could get hurt if they all ganged up on him. They might try to follow him home or corner him outside of school. She noticed the other students in the area were leaning away from the track team’s table as Rhiyen got louder about his threats. He was really doing it, defending her against all comers and strangely, it was working. She could see the tension in their bodies as Rhiyen’s anger radiated from his form, intimidating them into backing down. The muscles in his back bunched as he barked something at one of them.
It was easier for guys. Girls played dirty, played the victim, and if she decked Emma, Barnes would run to the principal, with her friends backing up her story, which would make things worse. She imagined Rhiyen starting a fight and then all of them jumping him at once. Her imagination conjured the scene as he gets shoved to the ground by the force of numbers and kicked while he was down. He might get some good jabs in but surely, he wouldn’t be able to fight them all off at once. Strangely, they seemed to back down, and when he came back to the table, he was walking confidently, smiling at her with casual satisfaction.
Could it really be over? Would they track him down later and beat him up when they weren’t being watched by half the school? She didn’t want him to get hurt on her behalf, even if it felt good to be defended. She worried about him getting in trouble, getting suspended, and then she would be alone again, waiting for the next strike.
Some things are worth it. Was he talking about her? The words reverberated through her, stoking an ember of warmth deep in her chest. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes as she tossed her head to push her hair out of her face. Nobody had cared enough to say such a thing for so long. The warmth stayed with her for the rest of the day.
O*O*O
Things seemed to calm down after lunch. I was a little disturbed by how badly I’d wanted to hurt the jackasses on the track team, but in the end, it was probably just accumulated frustration. I’d been uncertain too long about what was going on and whether I should intervene. Now that I understood and didn’t have to worry about spooking Taylor, I was looking forward to doing something about it.
By unspoken agreement, we sat together in the back of art class. I saw Sophia strutting in as the bell rang, frowning as she saw us. I tried to relax as the lecture began. Hopefully Taylor would become a less attractive target over time, now that she clearly wasn’t on her own. From my experience, bullies preferred the easiest targets they can find to exercise their need for dominance. In that respect, Glenridge and Winslow were exactly alike.
I felt a smile creep over my lips. Just like old times.
As I worked on my notes, I occasionally glanced at Taylor from the corner of my eye. She was mostly focused on her own notes, with a frown of concentration that I liked a lot more than the harried expression I was used to seeing. But once I glanced over to see her doing the same and our eyes met. She looked away quickly, but not before blushing rapidly. That was a little awkward.
As the lecture concluded and we packed up for Math, I slowed down a little so most of the class could leave. Sure enough, Sophia glanced at us and slowed down as well. She was still sitting down as we filed out of the room, but I maneuvered to stay between Taylor and her as we passed. The frustration and anger on Sophia’s face was palpable. She abruptly leapt to her feet, digging her shoulder into my ribs as she did so.
I was expecting this and braced, so I didn’t move back at all with the shove. Sophia instead fell back awkwardly into her chair. “Get out of my goddamn way, you creep!” she snarled.
“Sure thing, Sophie,” I drawled, “Just passing by.” Taylor bit her lower lip as we left the room.
In Math, when Emma and her friends sauntered in after the bell, Barnes stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me sitting right next to Taylor in the back corner of the classroom. Then she turned away and led her cronies near the front of the half-empty room. That suited me just fine. “Thanks,” I murmured to Taylor.
She looked over at me with her eyebrows drawn together in a curious frown. “For what?” she whispered.
“You are apparently amazing bimbo repellent,” I whispered back. “If I’d known that, I’d have been sitting here since the first day of class.”
Taylor let out a thoroughly unlady-like snort that dissolved into a quiet giggle. I smiled broadly as she blushed again. In the corner of my eye, I noticed Emma, Chloe, and Patricia all staring daggers back at us. So that’s what it felt like when they did it. All right.
As Mr. Quinlan droned on, I relaxed a little. No one was sitting close enough to mess with us. The bimbo trio whispering was less than the drone of a gnat. I realized that I’d felt more alive today than I ever had before at Winslow. The uncertainty was gone, and I’d picked my side. Was I a conflict junkie of some sort? I thought that over. I’d been pretty much existing over the summer, determined to keep my head down. But the situation at Winslow was too like my own past to ignore. I was glad Taylor had opened up to me yesterday about what was happening, even if the situation was horrible. Her initial suspicions, albeit well founded, made me wary of scaring her off when I initially asked her about the bullying. I suppose it was more a degree of certainty in what I was doing. I liked Taylor, and what was being done to her was wrong. That’s it, period.
When the last bell released us from educational purgatory, we leisurely made our way to the lockers. By not rushing, we avoided the worst of the crowding on the stairs. I wasn’t fully confident of protecting her in such tight quarters, to be honest. And I don’t think the word had spread enough for everyone to be afraid of starting something. Yet.
If Taylor was surprised when I boarded her bus instead of my own, she didn’t say anything. We picked a pair of empty seats, and I gave her the window while I sat on the aisle again. We didn’t talk about much, just enjoying a companionable silence after the school day was over. It was… nice.
I got off the bus with her, same as I did the day before. Though it seemed a lot longer ago. I didn’t need to bear witness for her dad this time, but I still wanted to. I’d gotten a demonstration last night that Brockton Bay wasn’t exactly safe. Even if it wasn’t that late right now, better safe than sorry. So, I kept my eyes peeled, just in case.
O*O*O
It felt good to have Rhiyen with her on the bus. She had been nervous about having him sit so close to her. She was tempted to lean into the warmth of his body even though it wasn’t cold. She expected him to stay on the bus when it stopped a block from her house, but instead, he escorted her to her door. After she closed the door behind her, she peeked out the window to watch him walk away, admiring the view. He sauntered confidently, his head scanning left and right as he walked, always watching his surroundings.
She turned from the window to find her dad sitting in the kitchen. He was reading a newspaper and raised an eyebrow at her. “Can I get you any food, Taylor?”
Taylor hugged him. “Hi, Dad. I’m not really hungry yet. Maybe later? You’re home early.”
She pulled off her hoodie, made sure her keys were in the pocket, and then hung it up by the door.
Her dad looked tired. “I talked to Alan Barnes this morning. He called me back a few minutes ago after speaking with Emma.”
“I see,” she murmured. She had an ugly feeling in her gut.
“He talked with Emma. She had a lot to say,” he informed her, confirming that ugly feeling.
“She said that you stopped being friends with her over the summer. She met a few new friends, and you didn’t like it. That you started making snide comments, even acted jealous when she paid attention to other people.”
She stepped forward, clenching her hands into fists, then dropped into a chair at the table. She had to control herself to keep from shouting. “Dad, that’s not true!”
He shook his head ruefully. “There’s more. She said you started a campaign of harassment, calling her names, shoving her in the halls, and even getting her in trouble at school with false accusations of bullying. Alan said she cried a little while talking about it.”
Taylor slammed her hands against the table, shoving her chair back, as she stood. Her expression was radiating rage. She swallowed a large lump that clogged her throat, thinking that her dad couldn’t believe that story, but it seemed like he did.
“I didn’t do any of that.” Her mouth turned down in despair. “She was my best friend, then she turned on me and I don’t know why! I would never do anything like that. If she had new friends along with me, I would be happy for her!”
She kicked the chair hard enough that it made a mark as it hit the fridge. Her dad’s eyes went just a bit wider. “So tell me this: Why is Alan Barnes trying to sell me this load of bull shit?”
“She’s lying and she has her dad wrapped around her little finger,” she snapped. “He will believe anything she says.”
Her dad just nodded. “That’s pretty much what I thought.”
Her breath hitched. “Dad? D-” She had to stop for a few seconds until she felt like she could catch her breath and talk without her voice breaking up, “You don’t believe him?”
He rose from his chair and walked around the table, then pulled her into a hug. “I believe you, little owl. You don’t treat people that way.” Her breath hitched with a sob, her face against his shoulder.
“Why did you let me get all worked up,” she asked against his chest.
“I wanted you to hear what he was saying about you so we can address it together.” He stroked her hair gently. “I forgot you have my temper, and it will come out when there is some righteous anger behind it.”
Taylor drew in a shaky breath and tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
“It’s fine,” he assured her. “We’ve got time. Take as long as you need.” She was still angry, but it was draining out of her like sand through an hourglass. Eventually her breathing eased, and she pulled away from his hug.
“I think I’d like some dinner now.” Her dad cooked some sausages, and they sat and talked about more pleasant things, movies she liked, books she had read, small talk that soothed the savage beast that he had awakened in her. After dinner, she headed upstairs to shower before bed.
She stood under the stream, pondering, letting the water run down her back. She had managed to get through the full school day without gaining any new bruises. She cranked the shower off, then toweled dry, thinking. She wrapped the towel around her torso and then headed to her room to get some pajamas.
She dropped the towel and examined herself in the mirror. What did he see in her? How could he think this thin body, a little roundness in the stomach, but hardly any curves anywhere else, could be attractive? When she looked at her reflection, she tended to focus on the flaws and things she didn’t like about herself. She was always vaguely surprised at the combination of features across from her.
Rhiyen was so athletic, and she didn’t do anything special to keep herself fit. She ran her hands down her stomach, feeling the softness of the muscles there. Maybe it’s time to start running regularly. She always enjoyed running, letting the world flow past as her feet pounded the concrete. It was so strange; she was looking forward to going to school.
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O*O*O
When I finally made it home, I was immediately cornered by a highly amused Jared.
“So,” he said, drawing the word out, “I see you finally made a play for the school pariah.” It was hard to take offense at his words, since he was grinning like a loon.
“I wasn’t ‘making a play’,” I corrected. “I was just sick of all the crap people were doing.”
“Whatever you say, Sir Galahad,” Jared agreed. “Nice scene in the cafeteria, offering to take on half the track team. Ballsy.”
“Like you explained to me,” I said, “they have everything to lose if it turns violent.”
“Assuming you win, and they don’t stomp you flat,” he countered.
“That’ll be cold consolation to the first guy I cripple,” I replied with a smirk.
Jared frowned. “You really are crazy, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Watching that shit, knowing I could do something to stop it, sounds worse.”
“What’s stopped you until now?” Jared asked, curiosity leaking out of his pores.
“She was skittish,” I explained, scowling. “Barnes kept setting her up with fake boyfriends last year, so she thought I was one of those creeps at first.”
“And now she has a real boyfriend,” Jared pronounced with a smirk.
“Nah, we’re just friends,” I said quickly.
“Uh huh,” he said. “You willing to throw down in the middle of the cafeteria for ‘just a friend’?” he asked, disbelievingly.
“Maybe I like to fight.”
Jared’s laughter followed me to my bedroom.
O*O*O
Things settled into a somewhat normal routine for the next week or so. I’d meet Taylor at the Winslow bus stop, we’d attend classes together and I’d encourage idiots to reconsider their life choices. Then I’d escort her home. Yes, it was a little much, but I liked doing it and she didn’t seem to mind. I tried not to think about what Jared said.
Then one morning, when I met Taylor, she was flushed and a little shaky. She also smelled freshly showered. Yes, I’d memorized her scent and the soap she used. Give me a break, it wasn’t like I did it consciously. Of course, I asked if she was okay as she stepped away from the bus.
She smiled a little ruefully, “I went for a run before school, and I was worse out of shape than I thought.”
“You must be getting up pretty early then,” I said, frowning a little.
She shrugged. “I’ve been wanting to get in shape, and it’s better than running in the evening. I just get up an hour early and run before I shower.”
“Good point,” I conceded. Still, it was dark that early, and it would only get worse as the days shortened. “Would you like some company?” I asked diffidently.
Taylor blushed bright red and began to sputter. It took a long moment of reviewing my words before I realized that the last activity she mentioned hadn’t been running. “Ack! No! I mean on your runs! Company while running!”
We were halfway to the main entrance before Taylor completely recovered her composure. “Oh. Ah. Yeah. That’s… different. Um, won’t you be getting up even earlier?”
I shrugged back. “I can go to sleep a little earlier at night. And two together is a lot safer, right?”
“I guess,” she allowed. “Do you really want to go to all that trouble though?”
I smiled. “It’s an excuse to spend more time with my best friend,” I said. I made a point of not looking at Taylor until we mounted the steps at the front entrance.
O*O*O
Her first attempt at running felt awkward. She did a few warmup stretches, feeling tension along the back of her calves. She reached above her head, pressing palms up, to loosen the tension in her shoulders. It was too tempting to hunch and blend in, but that posture wouldn’t work long-term. She started with a fast walk and then sped up into a light jog, heading toward the water and the east side of the city that she knew best.
Growing up in Brockton Bay, her parents had told her to always “stick to the Boardwalk”. She avoided the bad part of town. Running north-to-south along the beach, she passed shops that sold expensive dresses. She passed cafes offering ludicrously expensive coffees and a great ocean view. She couldn’t afford to shop there, but it made her feel safer to be where the tourists roamed.
As she moved from a light jog to a faster run, she felt eyes on her that prickled against her skin. She noticed people watching her go by. It made the hair on the back of her neck rise, even though they didn’t do anything besides turn their heads to follow her movements.
After five minutes of fast jogging, her breathing became labored. She had to slow down, puffing and sweating under her hoodie. She jumped when a few teenage girls came out of a shop, giggling together. She inwardly cursed herself for feeling paranoid, like she expected Sophia or Emma would suddenly appear and send taunts her way. She headed back home, noticing her neighbors watching her run, and decided to try running in the morning instead.
Mornings were definitely colder. Running before dawn offered fewer chances for people to stare at her, since most were still asleep in their warm beds. She had to talk herself into leaving the bed, because she was sore when she woke up, after the exercise the previous evening.
She stretched longer this time before her run and worked through the soreness. She didn’t mind the darkness as much, knowing that sunlight would be coming soon with the dawn. She could smell the pastries and coffee of the cafes before she got close, and the scent seemed more comforting in the early morning.
She was surprised that morning that Rhiyen noticed her flush from the morning exercise. It both gratified and mortified her how much attention he was paying to what she did. She was surprised when he offered to accompany her on the morning runs. When he said “It’s an excuse to spend more time with my best friend,” the warm ember in her chest was stoked again and stayed with her.
That evening, when her dad came home with a load of groceries, she helped him bring them in and then chatted with him over tuna salad sandwiches.
“Dad, it feels weird to run in the evenings, so I’m trying to stick to mornings. Rhiyen offered to run with me. What do you think?” she ventured.
“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” He questioned, worry crinkling his forehead.
“Dad, Rhiyen makes me feel safe at school. He stopped the bullying.”
“Really? I’m glad to hear it.” He gave a helpless shrug. “I can’t be there with you to head it off, even if I want to. I’ve made some calls to the school administration, but that hasn’t been very useful.”
Taylor’s lip curled, “No kidding.”
“Do you mind if he uses our shower before we catch the bus? I don’t want him to go to school sweaty.” Her face pinked slightly as she remembered the conversation about showers.
Her dad sighed. “It makes sense, so I’ll allow it. If he’s willing to travel here in the morning, there wouldn’t be time to head home before school starts.”
Taylor nodded happily and munched through the rest of the sandwich. She called Rhiyen’s house after dinner and stammered through an awkward conversation about using their shower. After a few minutes of feeling acutely self-conscious, she ended the call, looking forward to seeing him in the morning.
O*O*O
Theoretically, there were fewer muggers roaming at five or six am than midnight, but I still kept my head on a swivel as I made my way to Taylor’s house. The air was chilly enough once I left the bus to encourage me to stay in constant motion. Of course that was the whole point, right? Sweatpants and hoody helped as well. I’d been a little surprised when Taylor called to offer the use of their shower; I was anticipating having to wait and use the locker room at Winslow. Of course, that also meant giving the bullies a window of opportunity. While Taylor could just try to avoid them or hang around Mrs. Knott, it was far from reliable.
It’s not surprising how quickly the siege mentality I’d developed protecting Karen and Howard from Sen Arashi would return. I really preferred not to let Taylor out of my sight when we were at Winslow. It was clearly hostile terrain to me. I was glad she didn’t chafe at my presence or just get sick of seeing me around. Maybe she regarded Winslow the same way. I know she had more than enough reason to.
My feet carried me up the path onto the Hebert’s porch, skipping the bad step I’d been warned about. I knocked briefly and swung my backpack off my shoulder. Taylor opened the door wearing similar layers and welcomed me in.
“Do you want anything before we get started?” she asked quietly. I wondered if her dad was still asleep.
“A drink of water would be nice,” I said as I left my backpack near the door. I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she poured me a glass. I drained it slowly and thanked her. “I appreciate it. Ready to get started?” I asked.
She nodded and led me out the front door, pausing to lock the door with a key she wore on a string around her neck. We stretched for a while before starting out slowly, warming up as we trotted down the sidewalk. After a while, she slowly picked up the pace, her breath streaming out in wisps of white vapor. I matched her cadence as we ran through the slowly warming air. I was reminded again that Brockton Bay was a lot further North than I was used to.
I let Taylor pick the route. She was born in Brockton Bay, and presumably knew the town a lot better than I did. Admittedly, I also tended to pay less attention to which parts of town were safer than others, especially when I was by myself. At least I was working on my situational awareness. The blood began to sing through my veins as I got fully warmed up. At this point, part of me would enjoy a nice, vigorous scrap. But my smarter side knew it would freak Taylor out, and accidents could always happen. I was enjoying this, and I didn’t want her to be afraid of doing it again.
I glanced over at my running companion. She was clearly trying to pace herself, but I could see she was beginning to flag. I hoped she wasn’t trying to push too hard out of embarrassment or something. “Let’s drop it down a bit,” I suggested.
Taylor just nodded and slowed down. Her breathing was still labored.
“You ready to turn around and head back?” I asked.
She hesitated, then looped back in front of a small café. We retraced our steps at a slightly slower pace. This was when the endurance work kicked in. I slowed a little, letting Taylor forge ahead. She was keeping it up gamely and trying to maintain her form. I admired her clear determination. I sped up to gradually pull ahead again as we left the Boardwalk.
Eventually, we made our way back to her neighborhood. Taylor was wobbling pretty badly, but I hesitated to say anything. We entered her yard at about half the pace we left it, but with plenty of time to spare. “We need to keep moving to cool down the muscles,” I reminded her. She just nodded breathlessly. After some half-hearted cool-downs, she fished out her house key and let us in.
Her dad was in the kitchen when we guzzled down some ice water. Cold outside or not, running still dries you out. When Taylor went up to take her shower first, Mr. Hebert spoke up. “I can scramble you a couple of eggs while I’m at it,” he offered.
“Thanks, I’d appreciate it,” I replied.
“Good run?” he asked.
“Pretty good,” I said. “Quiet this early,”
“I was a little concerned,” he admitted, looking up from the frying pan. “Not many people out there.”
“Not this time of day,” I agreed. “I’m glad she asked me along.”
Mr. Hebert gave me a long, measuring gaze. “You seem pretty confident,” he observed.
I shrugged. “I can handle myself. And I only have to delay anyone long enough for her to get away.” I tried to sound confident, rather than smug or overconfident.
“Have you been in a lot of fights?” Danny asked as he stirred the eggs again.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“Oh, right, the amnesia,” Mr. Hebert said. I could detect a note of distrust.
“I think,” I allowed, “given the way I tend to react to things, I know how to fight. But I also know that if I start something or push too hard, I may not be around when Taylor needs me to watch her back.”
Mr. Hebert blinked. “Heh. Good answer.” Then he plated up the eggs and handed me one.
Hot protein hit the spot, and I was just finishing mine when Taylor came in. With her slightly damp hair pulled back from her fresh-scrubbed face, and her posture relaxed at home, I realized just how attractive she was. I blinked at the randomness of that thought. “Shower’s free,” she reported.
I nodded and got up from the table, rinsed my plate and fork in the sink, and put both in the dishwasher. “Thanks for breakfast,” I said as Taylor settled down at the table, and I made my way upstairs with my backpack.
The water heater was clearly struggling to catch up, but cold showers never bothered me that much. It just encouraged me to be... efficient. In jig time, I was clean, dressed in my school clothes, and toweling my hair dry. I sorted out the wet towels and re-packed my backpack, then headed downstairs.
Taylor was finishing her breakfast and looked up. “You’re quick,” she said. “Did I leave you enough hot water?”
I nodded. “You did, thanks.”
“We better get going then,” she said.
She grabbed her and her father’s plates and took them to the sink. Mr. Hebert finished his coffee. “I need to take off as well. I’ll see you tonight, honey.”
A sudden memory sparked my attention. “Um, did you hear anything back from Detective Searls?” I asked. “I didn’t get any messages at home, but, well, you know…”
He frowned. “No, not a word. I should probably follow up with him.”
I grimaced. “Okay, thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again for the scrambled eggs.”
He waved that off. “Don’t mention it. See you tomorrow?” he asked glancing at Taylor.
She quickly nodded. “I had a good run, just a little slow…”
“We did the whole circuit,” I assured her. “Speed is overrated.”
We left for the bus stop as Mr. Hebert locked up. The air already seemed to feel a little warmer as the sky grew lighter.
O*O*O
Taylor and I fell into a new schedule as September faded into October. We’d meet up early for our run, shower and then head off to ‘enemy territory’ - Winslow. Carrying around the running clothes in my backpack wasn’t a major inconvenience, and the morning exercise was a great way to wake up.
As I expected, Taylor pushed herself and her endurance gradually improved. She also seemed to get a little more confident, not just when we ran, but in general. That helped when the idiots at Winslow refused to take a hint.
Insults we could ignore or mock as the situation allowed. People are remarkably social creatures, and Taylor’s ability to deal with the taunts – while already ridiculously high – multiplied when she had at least one friendly face nearby. Given what she’d shared with me, it was more the loss of Emma, her childhood best friend, and the isolation that wore her down more than anything.
I knew from my own past that I was kind of a misanthrope. I preferred to concentrate my concerns on the few individuals that I found worthy, rather than socializing with a crowd. Jared was a vaguely acceptable acquaintance I rarely encountered since he was a senior. At the Landry’s, he was amusing – in an annoying, smug, sort of way. Taylor was… different. Interesting. And I wanted to know more about how different she was.
When I refused to leave her alone, Taylor really stopped caring as much about what the Three Witches were saying and doing.
The physical encounters were another matter entirely. Hess seemed infuriated that she couldn’t get past me to hurt Taylor, and no matter how hard she tried to hit me, I never gave her sadistic side any satisfaction. I was also getting better at placing inconvenient elbows and knees in the way. I couldn’t really haul off and deck her, but it was hard for her to complain about bruising her knuckles on my elbows.
The stairs were another kind of nightmare. Sophia and her friends seemed to love tripping Taylor on them, and this ramped up when they were stymied in other places. Eventually, we had to walk side by side, with Taylor’s hand on the railing and me making sure she didn’t get tripped or shoved off her feet. If they tried to knock me down, I tried my damnedest to take them with me. Which usually pissed off whoever was below us. Not worth the hassle for them. Still, we tended to delay taking the stairs until the worst of the crowds had thinned between classes.
But that’s not to say they didn’t try other ways to start crap. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I learned from Jared that a rumor was going around that I’d gotten Taylor pregnant. He didn’t believe it but just wanted to give me the heads up. Taylor was mortified when I told her after school and pretty much shut down, no matter how I tried to reassure her.
One thing that I was worried about was someone from Winslow or Mr. Barnes calling Danny Hebert about the rumor. So, the following morning I decided to bring it up while Taylor was showering. We often talked in the mornings after the run. Sometimes I let him know how things were going on the bullying front. Nothing behind Taylor’s back really. I wasn’t about to betray her confidence. But we had a mutual interest in stamping out that bullshit, so I’d generally keep him in the loop.
“One of the other foster kids is a senior at Winslow named Jared,” I began as he scrambled some eggs. I’d offered to bring a carton of eggs in periodically, but he waved off that offer. “The Witches Three apparently started a rumor that I got Taylor pregnant.”
Mr. Hebert froze for a second, then resumed moving the spatula. “It’s not true, is it?”
“Of course not,” I assured him.
“All right,” he said with a nod. “I’ve already made an ass out of myself on this topic once. I’m not going to do it again.”
I let out a small sigh of relief.
As he plated up the eggs, he peered at me. “You two really are just friends? You don’t, er, find her attractive?”
“Yes, really,” I started to answer then stopped as the second question registered. “Of course I find her attractive. I’m straight and she’s beautiful. I’m not blind,” I stated with some irritation. I felt Mr. Hebert’s eyes on me as he handed me a plate. The conversation petered out as I ate quickly.
Taylor seemed kind of distracted as she sat down and let me know the shower was free.
O*O*O
As the semester progressed, Taylor was resigned to the constant taunting from the trio, but Rhiyen’s interest in staying by her side made it easier to bear. When she heard things like “Nobody likes her. Nobody wants her here,” she could tell herself that Rhiyen did. When Julia mocked her, saying “Here she comes. Gag me with a spoon, " Taylor retorted, “I don’t need to gag to stay slim. Do you?” The snort from Rhiyen as Julia gaped in surprise was the icing on the cake.
Stairs were still a challenge. Sophia excelled at shoving her on the stairs hard enough to send her stumbling. Rhiyen countered by maneuvering so that Taylor was next to the rail and he was walking next to her. She fought the urge to reach out to steady him when he intercepted Sophia’s shove, taking it on the shoulder blade and rotating around her. When he stepped into her personal space to stop a sly pinch, Taylor felt heat flood her face at his sudden proximity.
Maybe some of her fellow students had noticed her blushing because she saw them giggle and turn away, whispering to each other. It happened more lately. She didn’t think it was her paranoia talking. Rhiyen didn’t seem to react to the background chatter so she put aside her worries for now. That lasted until the end of the day, when Rhiyen told her what people were saying. Someone was spreading gossip that Rhiyen had gotten her pregnant!
She couldn’t believe that the trio would stoop that low. She felt a spark of outrage rise within her at the thought. Then she chided herself. Of course, those witches would use Rhiyen’s protective behavior against them. She stifled the angry response by reflex, clenching her nails into her palms. How long would Rhiyen stick by her if his reputation was getting dragged through the mud too? Icy fear cooled the spark as her thoughts turned to the prospect of Rhiyen’s reputation getting trashed by her proximity to him.
She hadn’t let any guys get as close to her since Henry’s betrayal, but now she’d let Rhiyen in. It would be even worse if he walked away now that she had gotten used to his steady presence. He said it was fine, that nobody would believe it for long, but she had noticed the assessing gazes without knowing what they were looking for. Her heart sank at the thought of being alone again. She thought about calling in sick for a few days to let it blow over, but then realized the trio would use that as an opportunity to call it morning sickness. The only cure for this would be time, but could Rhiyen wait it out? Would he reconsider? She didn’t think so, but her instincts told her it could happen.
She couldn’t get the thoughts out of her head. In the morning, after her shower, she examined her belly minutely. If anything, she had gained some muscle tone and lost a little of the softness there. She considered wearing more form-fitting clothing to dispel the rumor faster. With Rhiyen’s help, she wasn’t getting splashed with random juice anymore, so she didn’t need the extra layer for protection.
She pondered the pros and cons as she made her way downstairs, hearing Rhiyen and her dad talking over the sound of cooking eggs. She froze when she heard Rhiyen mention the words “got Taylor pregnant”, mortified and expecting an angry outburst. But apparently, her dad was going to be reasonable about it. That was a relief.
She lingered in the hallway for a moment, not wanting to walk in on that awkward topic. Then she froze again when she heard Rhiyen say she was beautiful. She stifled a surprised squeak, pressed her hands against her mouth, and went back up the stairs a few steps, in case her dad came into the hallway unexpectedly.
It took a few minutes to compose herself, let the blush fade from her cheeks and try to suppress her wide smile. After waiting a few minutes, she deliberately made some noise on the last two stairs, then walked into the kitchen to get some breakfast. She hardly knew what to do with her hands, couldn’t look at Rhiyen directly, and nearly knocked her juice over. The hardest part was keeping her expression neutral. She could hardly believe it. Maybe it was true and he really saw her that way?