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1146 Words
Mandy's pov
I still remember the day I met him.
“Everyone, we have a new student joining us, please introduce yourself.” The bald, plump math teacher had gestured to me.
“Hi, everyone! I'm Mandy Lawson. My hobbies are reading novels and stamp collecting.”
That was what I was supposed to say. I'd rehearsed it in front of the mirror for hours.
But the moment I stood in front of more than a dozen pairs of eyes, my confidence abandoned me. Slowly, my legs grew wobbly, and I broke out in a cold sweat despite the warm weather.
“Miss?” the teacher called out, clearly concerned.
I clenched my fist, gathering determination, and finally pushed past the lump that was lodged in my throat.
“I-I'm M-mandy Lawson,”
The whole class exploded into bouts of laughter at my stupid stutter.
At that humiliating moment, I wouldn't have minded if the earth opened up and swallowed me whole. Unfortunately, I wasn't that lucky.
I should have known I was sorely deficient in luck when my parents decided to pluck me away from my entire life to this strange town, also, at the most awkward time for a transfer–senior year.
“Please, settle down, you guys…” the teacher requested. They all ignored him and the laughter died down naturally on its own.
“Take your seat, Mandy.” The teacher sighed when they were done, slowly massaging his temples.
My gaze traveled from one corner of the classroom to another, looking anxiously for an unoccupied seat.
Then, unprompted, someone tugged on my skirt. An embarrassed blush ran from my neck up to my cheeks.
“Wha-Let me go!”
Another boy reached out the moment I struggled out of the first boy's grip.
“D-don’t touch me!”
This one smirked and said, “W-what's wrong, M-mandy?”
To say it was one of the most humiliating moments of my life was an understatement. The teacher was pointlessly pleading with them in the background, and I was practically being stripped.
“Oh, em gee, her panties have duckies on them!” One of the jerks said, and his friends started making absurd quack sounds.
I fought back the urge to cry; my tears would only come back as ammo in their arsenal.
“What's so funny?” A deep, velvety voice spread through the class, a guy that had been dozed off since I walked in rose his head.
Even back then, he was already exceptionally handsome; sharp model features that made girls fawn over him.
One of the bullies spoke up,“We were just–”
“I don't care what you punks were doing. It's distracting my beauty sleep,”
The mood shifted instantly, the slithery fingers returned to their owners and all of a sudden nobody was laughing at anyone.
Perks of being popular, I guess.
I shuffled into the first empty chair I spotted, turning to my side to steal glances at my ‘hero’. Something innocent took root in my heart. If only I had known just how much it'd hurt me later on, I would have weeded it out that very second.
But I was blissfully unaware; kicking my feet back and forth, scribbling our initials in the back of my notebook encircled with hearts.
“Will you be free this weekend?”
And it turned out, I wasn't the only one.
A girl approached him after class, her eyes shaped into hearts as she asked him out.
“Maybe, or maybe not. We'll see.”
She wasn't the only girl. Others clustered around him like bees to honey. There was no opening for me to even thank him.
The incident later earned me the nickname ‘Ducky’, an A+ for creativity on that one.
So during my first week, I noticed Will often didn't attend his classes. I missed seeing him, even if it had to be beyond the wall of his admirers. I was also worried: Was he the type to skip class? Did something happen?
Finally, I asked Tina, a girl I befriended in Calculus, about him.
“Hi, so you know this guy in our class called Will? He–”
I paused because I had never seen someone's face go so pale, and so fast.
“Don't tell me you're friends with that man w***e?” Tina said without hesitation.
“Tina, why would you say that about someone?” I asked.
She laughed, it was cold and bitter.
“How else do you describe a man w***e where you're from?” Tina asked, chuckling.
For my sake, she went into details of his escapades; how he was fond of leading girls on and, when he was done, he would spit them out like chewed-up gum.
“I'd be surprised he didn't die from an STD before we graduate. He's slept with half the girls in our class, and he's adding to that number every day," Tina said, waving her hands animatedly.
“I guess I should stay away from him," I said and let out a sigh.
“That should be a given, unless you want to be one of his toys,” Tina said, smirking and wagging her brows.
Just like that, the pedestal I had placed him up on collapsed. I wasn't ready to be physically intimate, and it looked like that was all he looked for in a relationship.
I couldn't turn off my feelings like a light switch, so on the rare occasions he made it to class I just did my best to ignore him.
Then disaster struck two weeks later; I was the only person in the literature club that stayed back to tidy the place.
The sound of footsteps behind me crept into my ears, but I assumed they belonged to my club members.
“Did you guys come back to help?”
No answer. Strange, that's when I chose to turn, but it was too late.
Calloused hands clamped down on my mouth, blocking any sound from coming out. Another wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against my will.
Another guy stepped in front of me.
“Hello, Ducky, did you miss us?”
My eyes bulged out. These jerks were suspended last week on account of them bullying another girl, and now they were back already.
I kicked and struggled but they both just laughed with sick amusement.
“Now, calm down, we still have unfinished business,”
He started to tug down my skirt, and my stomach knotted in disgust and horror.
Just then, a volleyball was launched at my first tormentor, hitting him with a force that knocked him off his balance and straight to the floor.
My heart drummed as it trailed to the now open door where I saw Will Harte standing there.
- Writer
