CHAPTER THREE
1750 Words
The next morning, I woke up tired. I didn’t even remember falling asleep. It felt like I had closed my eyes for five minutes, not hours. My body hurt. My head felt heavy. My face felt stiff, and I knew I had been holding in tears all night.
Dad was already gone from the house. That was normal. When he wasn’t drunk, he was searching for work or pretending to search. I didn’t have time to think about him. I had school.
I stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror and washed my face. The water was cold. I brushed my teeth and tried to fix my hair, but nothing worked. I still looked like someone who did not sleep. Someone who was not ready. Someone who was scared.
But I had to go.
I walked to school with my backpack held close to my shoulder. My stomach growled, but there was nothing to eat. I had saved the half loaf of bread for later because we needed food to last.
The closer I got to school, the louder the street became. Cars everywhere. Students laughing and shouting. Voices echoing off the tall school walls. When I reached the gates, my heartbeat got faster. I remembered yesterday — the staring, the whispering.
I hated being new.
Inside the courtyard, everything looked too bright. The sunlight reflected off the fountain, making the water look silver. Students sat on benches eating breakfast from fancy lunch bags. Some girls were posing for pictures near the water. Boys were talking loudly about sports and weekend plans.
I tried to walk past them without being noticed. But people looked anyway. Maybe it was the uniform that didn’t fit. Maybe it was my cheap shoes. Maybe it was just the way I walked — unsure and nervous.
I kept my head down and went straight to Class 11A.
The door was open. Students were already inside talking. Someone laughed loudly. I took a deep breath and walked in.
I sat in the same seat as yesterday, in the back corner. I placed my bag on the floor and stared at my desk. If I pretended to be busy, maybe no one would talk to me.
For a few minutes, it worked.
Then I heard footsteps.
Someone sat down in the empty chair beside mine. I didn’t look up.
“Hey.”
The voice was low. Calm. Smooth. Familiar.
My heart jumped.
I looked up.
Jack was sitting next to me.
The rich boy. The popular boy. The handsome boy. The boy with the perfect posture, the perfect hair, and the perfect life. His uniform looked like it came straight from a magazine. His face looked like something people drew when they wanted to make the “perfect boy.”
I froze.
He smiled a little. Not a big smile. Just a small one that looked like he already knew something I didn’t.
“You’re the new kid, right?” he said.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Alex, right?”
I nodded again.
He leaned back in his chair and looked at me like I was interesting. Nobody had ever looked at me like that before. It made my skin feel warm.
“I didn’t get to say hi yesterday,” Jack said, “but I saw you.”
I swallowed. “Okay.”
He laughed a little. “You look nervous.”
“I’m fine,” I said. It was a lie.
“Good,” he said. Then he turned away as if the conversation was over.
But it wasn’t.
Students around the room began staring at us. Whispering. Pointing. One girl named Bella watched me with a strange expression, her eyebrows raised like she was surprised. Two boys near the window nudged each other and laughed quietly.
I lowered my head.
Why was Jack talking to me?
The bell rang, and the teacher began class. Jack didn’t speak again. Not until halfway through the lesson. He leaned over and whispered:
“Do you need help with this assignment?”
I blinked at him.
“No,” I said.
He smiled. “Are you sure?”
I turned back to my book, pretending to read. But I could feel him staring at me again. His eyes were sharp, bright, almost curious. It made my chest tight.
When class ended, I packed my bag fast. But before I could leave, Jack stood up and blocked my path.
“Walk with me,” he said.
I froze.
“Why?”
“Because I asked,” he said, smiling again.
For some reason, I followed him. Students stared as we walked together through the hallway. Some whispered loudly on purpose.
“Why him?”
“Jack never talks to new kids.”
“Oh my God, is he adopting a charity case?”
“He’s cute though.”
“I bet this won’t last long.”
Jack ignored them. I tried to.
We reached the courtyard and stopped.
Jack sat on the fountain edge. I stayed standing.
“You don’t talk much, huh?” Jack said.
“I talk,” I said quietly.
“But only when someone forces you,” he teased.
I looked away.
“You’re interesting,” he said.
My heartbeat changed.
“No, I’m not.”
“You are to me,” Jack said. No hesitation.
I didn’t understand. Why would someone like him think someone like me was interesting? Why would he even notice me?
Before I could speak, his friends walked up. Three boys, one girl. All rich. All confident. All staring at me.
Jack stood up.
“This is Alex,” he told them. “He’s cool.”
Cool?
No one had ever called me cool in my life.
One boy, tall and athletic, smirked. “Cool how?”
Jack shrugged. “Just cool.”
The boy looked at me like I was a joke.
“Welcome to Westvale,” he said in a fake friendly voice.
The girl beside him crossed her arms. She had long dark hair and expensive bracelets.
“Alex, right?” she asked.
I nodded.
She stared. “Where did you go to school before this? Public school?”
I swallowed. “Yeah.”
Her lip curled slightly. “How… interesting.”
It did not sound like a compliment.
Jack shot her a look. “Relax, Bella.”
Bella frowned. “I didn’t say anything rude.”
The boys laughed. I felt small again. Smaller than ever.
I stepped back.
“I have to go,” I said.
Jack stepped forward. “I can walk with you.”
“No,” I said. “It’s fine.”
I left fast. I did not look back. I didn’t want to see their faces. I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.
What was happening?
Why was Jack suddenly acting like he cared?
Why did he look at me like he knew me?
I stared at my reflection.
Was he being kind?
Or was it a joke?
Or a dare?
Two boys entered the bathroom. They didn’t notice me at first. They were laughing.
“Did you see Jack talking to that new kid?” one said.
“Yeah. Poor thing probably thinks Jack likes him.”
“But he doesn’t, right?”
“Obviously not. It’s Jack. He doesn’t like anyone.”
They laughed louder.
My chest hurt.
I left without washing my hands.
The rest of the day went slow. Every class felt longer. Every step felt heavier. Students looked at me differently now. Not invisible. Not ignored. Just watched. My skin felt hot the whole time.
When the last bell rang, I left school fast. I walked to the bus stop and sat down alone.
I pulled out my phone. No messages. No notifications. No missed calls.
I wished someone would text me. I wished I had someone to talk to. I wished I knew what to do.
A shadow fell across my legs.
I looked up.
Jack was standing there.
“You left fast,” he said.
“I had to catch the bus,” I lied.
“It doesn’t come for eight minutes,” he said, checking the schedule on his phone.
I looked down at my hands.
Jack sat beside me.
For a moment, neither of us talked. Students walked by staring at us again.
Jack leaned back. “You don’t like attention, do you?”
“No,” I said.
He laughed quietly. “I do.”
I didn’t know what to say.
He turned his head and looked at me. Really looked.
“You’re different,” Jack whispered.
My heart thumped hard.
“How?”
“You don’t treat me like everyone else,” he said. “Like I’m a trophy or something. Like I’m perfect.”
“But you are perfect,” I said before thinking.
Jack’s face changed. For a moment he looked surprised. Then he smiled a slow, warm smile that made something strange happen in my chest.
The bus pulled in. I stood up.
Jack grabbed my wrist gently.
“See you tomorrow, Alex.”
My breath stuck.
“Okay,” I said softly.
I sat on the bus and watched him through the window. He didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at me.
Why?
Why me?
On the ride home, I replayed his words. His looks. His smile. His voice.
A small part of me — the part that still believed good things could happen — wondered if Jack liked me.
But another part of me — the part that lived inside a house full of fights, hospital visits, fear, and loneliness — knew better.
Nothing good comes that easy.
When I reached home, Dad was back. Drunk again. He didn’t speak to me, and I didn’t speak to him. I locked myself in my room and lay on my mattress, staring at the ceiling.
I wanted to think about Mom.
I wanted to think about school work.
I wanted to think about anything normal.
But all I could think about was Jack.
The way he smiled.
The way he stared.
The way he touched my wrist.
I didn’t know it yet — but that day was the start of everything.
The attention.
The whispers.
The rumors.
The jealousy.
The heartbreak.
The truth.
And the biggest lie of all.
Jack liked me?
Or Jack was pretending?
I didn’t know.
Not yet.
But I was going to find out.
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- Writer
