Shattered
1033 Words
Claire and Jessie walked into the girls' locker room.
The moment they stepped inside, every conversation came to a halt.
Dozens of eyes landed on Claire.
Then the whispers began.
"They really glued a chair to her skirt..."
"She looks ridiculous."
"I heard she's working after school because she can't pay her school fees."
"Isn't she an orphan?"
"I heard both her parents died."
"No wonder she's so miserable."
Each whisper cut deeper than the last.
Claire clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She lowered her head, pretending not to hear them, but their voices echoed through the room.
"She's such an embarrassment."
Her breathing became uneven.
Her vision blurred.
She couldn't take it anymore.
"ENOUGH!"
The room fell silent.
Not a single person dared to speak.
Claire glared at everyone, tears burning in her eyes before turning on her heels and storming out of the locker room.
"Claire!" Jessie called, startled, but Claire was already gone.
---
Claire rushed down the hallway without looking where she was going.
She pushed open a door and hurried inside.
Only after taking a few steps did she realize her mistake.
It was the boys' bathroom.
Before she could turn around, she crashed into someone.
Strong hands caught her before she hit the floor.
"Easy."
Claire looked up.
Her vision was blurred by tears, making it impossible to see his face clearly.
She only knew one thing.
He was a boy.
And she was in the wrong bathroom.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling away quickly.
Without waiting for a response, she hurried out and rushed into the girls' bathroom next door.
Fortunately, it was empty.
She gripped the edge of the sink and stared at her reflection.
"What about her parents?"
"I heard they died."
Their cruel voices replayed in her head.
Her shoulders trembled.
"Why won't they just leave me alone?" she whispered.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Frustration overwhelmed her.
She slammed her fist against the sink.
CRASH!
The porcelain shattered instantly.
Claire froze.
Blood slowly trickled from her palm before dripping into the broken sink.
--
A sharp crash echoed through the bathroom.
The boy Claire had bumped into earlier frowned.
He had seen the tears in her eyes when she ran out of the boys' bathroom. Something about the sadness on her face had bothered him, so instead of leaving, he lingered outside.
When he heard the sound of something shattering, he didn't hesitate.
He pushed open the bathroom door.
"Are you okay?"
His eyes immediately landed on Claire.
She stood frozen in front of the broken sink, blood dripping steadily from her trembling hand.
His expression changed.
"You're bleeding."
Without waiting for permission, he shrugged off his jacket and gently wrapped it around her injured palm, applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding.
Claire watched him in silence.
Why would a complete stranger help her?
After securing the makeshift bandage, his gaze shifted to the shattered sink.
Then back to Claire.
Then the sink again.
"You... did this?"
Claire lowered her eyes, embarrassed.
"...Sorry about your jacket."
She carefully pulled her hand away.
"I'll buy you a new one after I get this cleaned up."
She turned to leave.
"Wait."
She paused but didn't look back.
"You should see the school nurse."
"I'll be fine."
She took another step.
"I insist."
Claire sighed.
"It's just a scratch."
He looked at her for a moment before speaking again.
"...Then what about the chair glued to your skirt?"
Her footsteps came to an abrupt stop.
Claire bit her lip.
Without another argument, she quietly followed him to the school clinic.
---
A few minutes later...
The two walked out of the clinic in complete silence.
Claire glanced at the neat bandage wrapped around her hand.
"I'll still replace your jacket."
"You don't have to."
"I insist."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I have plenty at home."
Claire looked away.
Of course he does.
He looked like someone who had never worried about money a day in his life.
"Thank you..." she said softly.
"My name is Claire."
"I'm-"
"Fred?"
He blinked.
"You know me?"
Claire gave a small shrug.
"It's hard not to."
A faint chuckle escaped him.
"I guess that's true."
An awkward silence settled between them before Fred asked quietly,
"That wasn't an accident ...was it?"
Claire's fingers stiffened around the bandage.
She didn't answer.
Just then-
"CLAIRE!"
Jessie's voice echoed through the hallway.
She ran toward them, panic written all over her face.
"Oh my gosh!"
She grabbed Claire's injured hand carefully.
"What happened? Are you okay? You scared me to death!"
Claire forced a smile.
"I'm okay."
"No, you're not."
Jessie pulled her into a tight hug.
Claire closed her eyes.
After a long moment, Jessie finally noticed the boy standing beside them.
She froze.
Her eyes widened.
"...No way."
She looked at Claire.
Then at him.
Then back at Claire.
"No..."
Her mouth slowly fell open.
"Is that..."
She pointed with a trembling finger.
"Fred Mickelson?"
Jessie looked seconds away from fainting.
"Oh. My. Goodness."
Claire couldn't help rolling her eyes.
"Jessie."
"What?!" Jessie whispered loudly.
"Do you even know who he is?"
"Seriously?."
Claire turned toward Fred.
"This is Jessie... my best friend."
Jessie instantly straightened her posture.
"Hi!"
She stretched out her hand with an awkward smile.
"It's... um... really nice to meet you."
Fred accepted the handshake.
"The pleasure's mine."
The second their hands separated...
Jessie stared dramatically at her own hand.
Claire already knew what was coming.
"I'm never washing this hand again."
Claire covered her face.
"I don't know her."
Fred let out a quiet laugh.
"I should get going."
He looked at Claire.
"Take care of yourself."
"I will."
He gave a small nod before walking away.
Jessie watched him disappear down the hallway before grabbing Claire's shoulders.
"Girl..."
Claire blinked.
"You just had a whole conversation with Fred Mickelson!"
Claire shrugged.
"So?."
Jessie gasped dramatically.
"So?!!"
"Claire..."
"That is THE Fred Mickelson."
Claire laughed for the first time that day.
"You're unbelievable."
Jessie linked their arms together.
"And you're definitely telling me EVERYTHING."
Still smiling, Claire let Jessie drag her down the hallway.
- Writer
