She's Nothing
936 Words
The second she stepped through the school gates, she knew it was going to be a bad day.
She didn’t need a horoscope or a weather report. She could feel it in the way the clouds refused to part. The way the morning air felt sticky on her skin. The way Tasha was already standing near the lockers, her fake friends gathered like a crown around her head.
Amara barely made it three steps down the hallway when she heard it.
"Wow, look who finally decided to crawl out of her sad little cave," Tasha said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Amara didn’t stop walking. She kept her eyes ahead, pretending she didn’t hear it. But her fists curled inside the sleeves of her hoodie.
"Don’t ignore me, you little freak," Tasha called again. "Or should I say... Kevin’s reject?"
That one landed. People turned. A couple of girls laughed. One of the guys whistled.
Amara stopped. Not because she wanted to. But because her body betrayed her. She turned slightly, jaw tight.
"You're still mad?" Tasha’s voice dripped with fake sweetness. "You should be thanking me. At least he got a real woman for once."
Kevin was leaning on the locker beside her, smirking. "You used to cry so much when I didn’t text back. Guess you still haven’t grown out of it, huh?"
Laughter rippled around them.
Amara’s chest burned. “You’re disgusting,” she said quietly.
Tasha tilted her head. “Aww. You gonna cry again, Mara?” She said her name like it was dirt.
Kevin chuckled. “She used to say she loved me,” he said. “Can you imagine that? This—thing—thinking I’d actually love her back.”
That one broke something.
Amara blinked, once, twice, her lips trembling before she could stop it.
And that’s when Leo appeared.
He was walking down the hall, hands in his pockets, earphones in, hoodie up. Like a storm that hadn’t decided where to strike yet.
Kevin didn’t even see him coming.
Leo stopped right beside him. Slowly pulled out one earbud. Looked at Kevin, then at Amara, then back at Kevin.
“What did you just say?”
Kevin laughed. “Relax, man. We’re just—”
The next second, Leo’s fist connected with his jaw.
The sound was sharp. The hallway went silent.
Kevin stumbled back, clutching his face. “What the hell—”
Leo didn’t stop. He grabbed Kevin by the collar and slammed him into the lockers hard enough for the metal to ring. “Say it again,” he hissed.
Tasha shrieked. “Leo, stop! You’ll get suspended!”
Kevin tried to shove him off, but Leo was faster. Another hit—this time to his stomach. Kevin doubled over, gasping.
“Say it again,” Leo repeated, voice low and shaking with anger.
“Leo, stop!” Amara’s voice broke through, trembling.
That’s when he froze. Just like that.
The look in his eyes changed—like something pulled him back from whatever dark place he was in. He dropped Kevin, who slumped to the floor, coughing.
Everyone just stared.
Leo turned away, breathing hard. His knuckles were red. His jaw tight.
He didn’t look at Amara. Not once.
He put his earbud back in, walked straight down the hallway, and disappeared around the corner.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then Tasha broke it with a shaky laugh. “Damn. He really lost it. You must be so proud, freak.”
Amara didn’t say anything. Her whole body shook, but not from fear. From something worse.
Because deep down, she didn’t know if he hit Kevin because he cared—or just because he could.
By lunch, the story had already spread.
“Leo beat up Kevin. Like… bad. His lip’s split. He might’ve cracked a rib.”
“I heard it was about some girl.”
“Who?”
“Who else? Amara Rivers.”
“Seriously? They are siblings right.?”
“Sure, he wouldn't do that for any girl.”
“He doesn’t even like girls.”
“A hot freak though.”
She overheard every word.
She walked past the cafeteria. Didn’t stop. Didn’t eat.
She found an empty music room and shut the door. The piano sat there, untouched.
She sank to the floor, head on her knees.
The fight replayed over and over in her mind. The way he looked when he hit Kevin. The fire in his eyes. The way it felt like he was angry for her.
She didn’t know what to feel.
Then, later, after last bell, she saw him again—by the parking lot.
He was leaning against his car, sleeves rolled up, bruised knuckles visible. A few guys stood nearby, asking questions, laughing. He looked bored.
When he noticed her staring, he walked over slowly.
Her heart raced.
“What was that this morning?” she asked.
He shrugged. “A dare.”
“A dare?”
He didn’t meet her eyes. “My friends said I wouldn’t do it. Thought I’d have some fun.”
Her stomach dropped.
“That’s all?” she whispered.
He nodded once. “Don’t take it personally.”
She swallowed hard. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I get that a lot.”
And then he walked away.
No apology. No explanation.
Just silence.
The next day, everyone was still talking about it. But Amara didn’t care anymore.
Because the one person who made her believe in something had just proven he was worse than the rest.
- Writer
