Fragile strength

Chapter two;Muddy beginnings

Crestwood Academy had a way of making you feel small, not physically small—though the hallways were impossibly wide. Everything seemed larger than life around here.

With high ceilings that stretched so high you would think they touch the sky to the floors so polished they reflected every passing footstep.

Even the light felt different as it reflected through the windows making odd shapes across the floors.

Voices echoed from away, students laughing and walking in groups oblivious to their surroundings. Oblivious to me. I tried scrolling aimlessly on my phone to distract myself from the nervous flutter in my chest.

The school guide I’d been given helped me only so little. The first few of my classes were easy to spot but as I passed corridors that branched like rivers, each turn made me feel smaller and less confident.

I hugged my bag closer, trying to shrink into myself. In my old school, I learnt how to move quietly not wanting to be noticed but even at that anything else was better than going back there again.

Mam had managed to scrape together some money for me to see a therapist, but I only went there five times before lying to my mother that I felt better. I despised being a financial burden to my parents hence the lie. But the bullying never stopped.

Until one day.

The week before Christmas break, I had come home in a flood of tears with my uniform stained with red paint on my bosom area and my nose stuffed with tissue paper to stem the bleeding from the hiding I’d taken from a group of mean girls accusing me of trying to get with one of their boyfriends.

It was a lie. I never looked at any boy at school or anywhere else. I had no interest in boys or dating. I had bigger problems than that.

That was the day I stopped feeling, I stopped pretending, I just stopped.

My mother had taken one look at me and pulled me out of the school.

The opportunity of having a better life dangled in front of my eyes and I grabbed it with both hands.

Even with my father protesting that I should just stay at home and that girls weren’t meant for school, it would be a waste of time, my mother was relentless and here I am now.

I still remember his words “You don’t belong there, kid”. “You’re not good enough for that posh school girl” came out of my own father's mouth.

Bringing myself out of my trance, I realized I desperately needed to pee, turning left on a corridor I’m thankful for the big sign indicating the restroom.

The restroom was empty, when I was done I let the cool water run down my hands staring at my reflection. My hair was slightly out of place, my lips pressed into a thin line.

New school. New start.

I reminded myself.

The door opened behind me.

Two girls way taller than me appeared, one having mid-length blonde hair and the other with short brown hair styled into a bob.

“I still can’t believe how different he looks now”. The blonde-haired girl said laughing softly.

“Right?” the other replied. “If you told me back in middle school that he’d turn into this, I would’ve straight up laughed in your face”.

I kept my eyes down, focusing on drying my hands.

“He’s always got the potential not gonna lie”. The blonde hair continued, “but now?…he is on another level with being the star player of our school”.

“I’m telling ya, it’s the image”. The other girl said. “Crestwood sure loves its golden boys”.

“Eeyuck, we probably sound like we’re in love with him”. The same girl spoke.

“Yeah, he’s one hell of a friend though”. She said.

There was familiarity in their voices, the kind that came from knowing someone for years.

I didn’t know who Dean was. I didn’t need to but he sounded intriguing.

Not wanting to look like a creep, I turned around to leave but my notebook slipped from my arm and landed on the floor with a soft thud.

“Oh—“ I whispered.

The conversation stopped and I suddenly felt exposed.

One of the girls turned to me, the blonde one, her brows creased.

“Sorry—did we startle you?”.

“No”. I said quickly. “I—I just dropped this”. I said pointing to my notebook awkwardly.

She bent down and handed it to me with a smile. “You must be new”.

I nodded.

“That explains it”. The other girl said gently. “ I’m Evie, this is Astrid”. The brown haired girl said I now know as Evie. They both looked at me silently as it registered that they were waiting for my name.

“Oh uh…, I’m Sadie”. My voice was barely above a murmur.

“Well”, Astrid said glancing at the bell schedule posted on the wall, “if you don’t already have plans, we were just about to grab lunch”.

Evie smiled. “And we can show you around properly, the guide only does so much”.

I hesitated a bit but then I nodded. “Okay”.

——————————————————————

By lunchtime, my stomach reminded me that mornings had been exhausting.

Evie and Astrid were already walking ahead, chatting as though Crestwood belonged to them. I followed behind slowly grateful for their guidance.

“Courtyard’s the best spot”. Astrid said brightly as we stepped into the open space. “The sun's out and the breeze is just perfect this time of the day”.

Evie gave a small nod beside me, her usual calm presence contrasting with Astrid’s energy. “It’s also where the rugby boys train. Just don’t get it in the way”.

The bleachers overlooked the athletic field stretching wide and green beneath the pale afternoon sun. White lines were painted neatly into the grass, already torn and smudged up by running cleats. A group of boys occupied the field, their voices carrying easily as they ran drills, sweat making their jerseys cling to their backs.

“They train here almost every day”. Evie said dropping onto the bench beside me.

I sat carefully, keeping my bag close, my attention focused on my lunch even though it kept drifting downward.

Astrid leaned back against the bleachers behind us. “We’re technically not supposed to go past the stands”.

Evie grinned. “Technically, I think we should show Sadie the love garden don’t you think?”. She continued smiling.

“Yeahh, we can cut across the field, classes won’t start for a while anyway and it’s easier than circling the field”. Astrid said.

I hesitated looking at the boys in the distance, running drills but went anyway.

Evie bolted ahead, laughter bubbling from her while Astrid followed, skipping across the grass, and I found myself chasing after them, hearts pounding not from fear but pure exhilaration.

The world felt different in that moment, everything felt so free as the wind breezed across my face.

“Hey!, Get off the field”. Someone shouted.

“Girls!, Off the grass”. Another added their voices sharp and angry.

Astrid waved, laughing even harder. “Just a few steps, we’re almost there”.

When I reached the edge of the pitch, I felt like crying in relief as I hobbled up the steep bank. However, my relief was cut short, a feeling that was quickly replaced with pain as my foot caught with a ball that was kicked near me and I tipped sideways.

Moments later I was free-falling backwards, tumbling down the muddy banks and I hit the ground with a thud landing on my side, the air whooshed out of me making it impossible for me to think straight.

I thought this was no big deal and everything would stay the same way.

I was wrong. This was the moment everything changed for me at Crestwood Academy.