Blindfolded by Love

Chapter 2

My new room was unexpectedly cozy. The new room had pale blue walls, a fluffy window seat, and a cork board with Polaroid pins already waiting for memories to be pinned on them, a hanging garden was just over the bedpost and a cozy couch was in the corner of the room. It was…cozy. Too cozy for the chaos that had just erupted downstairs.

Someone knocked lightly on the open door. I turned to see Charles carrying a box with a few folded towels and a set of floral-patterned bedsheets and a pillow.

“Hope this room works out for you,” he said, setting the box on the bed. “Your mom picked it out. And sent me the designs. Said it ‘screamed Regina’, whatever that means.”

I managed to crack a laugh. That was exactly what mom would say. “It’s honestly perfect. Thank you for the effort."

"It's no problem dear you are family now."

I nodded and turned to start sorting out the room when I noticed that Charles was still lingering by the doorway, hands in his pockets. “Listen. About Maxwell… I’m really sorry you had to see all that, especially what he said about your mom."

I waved it off quickly, not wanting him to feel bad about what his son did. “It’s okay. I get it. Teen moods and all, don't worry about it."

“No,” Charles shook his head, stepping inside. “It’s more than that. He’s… been angry ever since the divorce. He didn’t handle it well. His mom, well, she managed to twist a lot of things. Made him believe I chose hockey over family. Over him. And so he has the childish thought that I married your mother just because she plays hockey."

I looked down at my hands, not wanting to look at his hurt expression. I'm not perfect with crying or sad people.

“He’s hurting,” Charles continued to say, “but that’s no excuse for what he said. And I want you to know something that is very important, don’t let him talk to you like that. If he shouts, shout back. He’s a bully, and the one thing bullies hate is pushback, so don't let him walk all over you."

I was surprised. “ You are giving me permission to shout at your son? "

Charles grinned, displaying his pearly white teeth. “ If anyone deserves a good scolding, it’s him, so please you are more than welcome. Add a smack if you will, just make it a bonus. "

We both chuckled at his words and the tensed air finally lightened up.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your mom told me you’re practically a hockey Einstein.”

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. My mom talks way too much about me. “I just… know the stats. Strategies. Game theory. I can’t play even if my life depended on it."

“Still,” Charles said, “we need minds like yours on the team. The boys may not admit it, but they need real analysis and help, so if you ever have suggestions, I want you to speak up. Don’t wait for permission.”

I nodded slowly. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

Charles nodded and left the room, giving me space to work on my things. I thought about what he said and what had occurred downstairs. Yes, he gave me permission to confront his son, but for how long? I hate direct confrontation and, in fact, I avoid it the most. I prefer to be quiet and unknown. I only speak up when it's necessary.

If I kept on fighting Maxwell, what happens to my mom's plan of having a stable, normal life? She had already started learning names and I caught her a few days ago learning how to organize events. She was trying to fit in and Maxwell's drama was going to ruin it all. I made up my mind to ignore anything Maxwell did to me and to stay away from him. The more I reacted, the more attention I would be giving him and he didn't deserve it.

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Monday came way too fast and was way too cold. My mom made sure I was well bundled up. I slung my backpack over one shoulder, and followed the sound of slamming lockers and hurried footsteps into Fair-hollow High.

I politely smiled at one girl who walked past me. But she looked at me wide-eyed like she had seen a ghost and scurried away down the hall. That was unexpected.

I continued walking looking for my locker when two boys bumped into me, muttering something that sounded like “puck bunny.” That was weird but I thought nothing of it.

And then I noticed the cold wasn’t just outside. It was in every state, every turn-away, every whisper. For some reason all eyes were on me. Probably because I was the new girl. The attention would die down very soon.

I managed to find my locker easily, but as I opened it and began getting my books inside, I caught it, a voice behind me.

“ Look, it's her, the Mistress spawn.”

I froze in place, too stunned to immediately react.

The voice was faint, just loud enough for me to hear. Laughter followed almost instantly.

I slowly turned around, my eyes landing on a tall brown haired boy wearing the Wolves hockey team jacket. A smirk danced on his lips as he caught my eye on him.

“What was that?” I asked, voice low and even, not expressing the surge of rage that I was feeling at that particular moment.

He shook his head and turned away. “I didn't say anything."

“Oh no, don't you dare." I said, stepping toward him, my eyes sharp and voice deadly cold. “You were brave enough to say it once. Say it louder. Be bold.”

Silence stretched between you. The entire hallway grew silent and all eyes on us.

“Didn’t think so.”