Chapter 3
895 Words
Rihanna's eyes widened in horror.
For a few seconds, she couldn't move.
The cold, disgusting substance that had just been dumped on her head slowly slid down her hair, shoulders, and uniform. The foul smell hit her almost immediately.
Food scraps.
Dirty wrappers.
Empty beverage cans.
And among them, a used baby diaper.
A wave of disgust washed over her as the realization sank in.
The classroom fell silent for a brief moment before scattered laughter erupted from different corners.
Some students covered their mouths in shock while others openly laughed. A few even pulled out their phones.
Rihanna stood frozen beside her desk, her heart pounding painfully against her chest.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
She had done nothing.
Nothing at all.
This morning had started peacefully. She had arrived early, cleaned the classroom, arranged her books, and settled down to read her novel.
How had it turned into this?
She thought things would be different now that her father was back.
She thought the bullying would stop.
But she had been wrong.
"Enough!"
Mr. Oliver's voice boomed across the classroom.
The laughter died instantly.
The students hurriedly put away their phones and lowered their heads.
The teacher strode toward Rihanna, his face darkening as he took in her condition.
"What in the world happened here?" he demanded.
No one answered.
His gaze swept across the classroom.
Still, silence.
Not a single student was willing to speak.
Mr. Oliver folded his arms.
"I asked a question."
The room remained quiet.
His eyes finally settled on Monica, who sat comfortably in her seat with an unreadable expression.
Then they moved to Rihanna.
Without another word, he pointed toward the door.
"Both of you. Detention. Now."
Rihanna immediately grabbed her bag and hurried out of the classroom.
Behind her, Monica remained seated.
Mr. Oliver frowned.
"What are you still doing here?"
Monica blinked.
"Sir, I didn't—"
"Detention. Now."
The finality in his voice left no room for argument.
With an annoyed hiss, Monica rose from her seat and followed.
As they left, Mr. Oliver instructed a student to call a cleaner before resuming the lesson.
---
Detention
After changing into a spare uniform and washing her hair as best as she could, Rihanna finally made her way to the detention room.
The smell was gone, but the humiliation remained.
No amount of soap could wash that away.
She sat quietly in a corner after receiving a disciplinary form.
The room was unusually silent.
Several students were present, each occupied with their own punishment.
Rihanna lowered her head and stared at the form on her desk.
Her eyes burned.
She wanted to cry again.
But she was tired.
Tired of crying.
Tired of being hurt.
Tired of being hated.
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor broke her thoughts.
She looked up.
Monica.
Their eyes met.
Rihanna immediately looked away.
A knot formed in her stomach.
Something about Monica's expression made her uneasy.
The older girl slowly rose from her seat and began walking toward her.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
Rihanna's hands trembled slightly.
What now?
Hadn't she suffered enough already?
Monica stopped beside her desk.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Monica leaned closer.
"Bitch."
The word dripped with hatred.
Rihanna flinched.
A few students looked over but quickly returned their attention elsewhere.
No one wanted to get involved.
Rihanna swallowed hard.
"What have I done?" she asked quietly.
The question seemed to anger Monica even more.
"What have you done?" she repeated with a bitter laugh.
"You're seriously asking me that?"
Rihanna remained silent.
Monica folded her arms.
"You always act innocent. Like you have no idea what's going on."
Her voice grew colder.
"My father spends money on you."
Rihanna blinked.
"My father worries about you."
Monica took another step closer.
"My father listens to your problems."
The bitterness in her voice was impossible to miss.
"I asked him for something first," she continued. "But the moment you needed something, he forgot all about me."
Rihanna stared at her.
So that was it.
Jealousy.
Resentment.
Years and years of resentment.
Monica shook her head.
"You should have left a long time ago."
The words struck Rihanna like a slap.
"You have your part-time jobs, don't you? Why don't you save enough money and stop depending on him?"
Tears filled Rihanna's eyes again.
"He helps because he wants to," she whispered.
Monica's expression darkened.
"No."
Her voice was sharp.
"He helps because you're a burden he refuses to let go of."
Rihanna lowered her gaze.
The room felt suffocating.
Every word Monica spoke seemed designed to hurt.
And somehow, they always did.
Before Rihanna could respond, the detention room door suddenly opened.
A teacher stepped inside.
The conversation stopped immediately.
The teacher's eyes moved from Monica to Rihanna.
One was standing.
The other looked as though she had been fighting back tears for several minutes.
His expression hardened.
"What is going on here?"
The room fell silent.
Nobody answered.
The teacher's gaze lingered on Monica.
For the first time that afternoon, the confidence on her face seemed to waver.
"Both of you," the teacher said firmly. "Come with me."
Rihanna's heart skipped a beat.
Something told her this matter was far from over.
And for the first time in a very long time, Monica looked worried.
- Writer
