More Than What They See

CHAPTER 8: Things Begin to Change

Rhian’s POV

The next morning I walked to school with my head held high. Mama’s words echoed in my mind with every step I took, keeping me steady and calm. When I entered the classroom, all eyes turned toward me right away—including theirs. But this time I did not look down, I did not hurry, and I did not shrink away. I met their gaze calmly, gave a small polite nod, and walked straight to my seat just like everyone else. I placed my bag gently on the chair and took out my things quietly, feeling lighter than I had ever felt before.

At lunch break, I took my simple food and sat near the school garden, away from the noise of the canteen. I was just about to take a bite when I heard soft footsteps approaching. I looked up and saw Mae standing there, holding two pieces of warm bread in her hands. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled shyly and sat down beside me.

“I brought extra,” she said softly, holding out one piece to me. “I wanted to share this with you.”

I took it gently. “Thank you, Mae. You really did not have to.”

“I just want to say thank you,” she said quietly, twisting her fingers together. “They have been doing this for so long to so many people. Everyone just pretends not to see it. But you… you were the only one brave enough to actually say something.”

I gave her a small, sincere smile. “It is nothing special. We should always stand up for one another. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

As we talked quietly, I saw Francis, Gio, and Jace walking along the path nearby. They stopped for a moment when they noticed us, and their eyes met mine. I held my breath for a second, ready for another mean comment or a shove. But instead of blocking our path, laughing loudly, or saying something cruel, Francis just looked down slowly, and they turned and kept walking without saying a word. I blinked in surprise. It felt like they were now the ones who felt uneasy—like they were suddenly afraid that more people might finally find the courage to speak up too.

Later that afternoon, while we were waiting for the next subject, another classmate named Liza walked up to my desk. She looked around nervously before leaning closer.

“Rhian?” she whispered. “I… I do not understand our Math lesson today. Can you please help me later? You explained it so well earlier.”

Before I could answer, more students started coming near. Some asked if they could sit with me during break time, others asked for help with their notes, and a few even walked by and gave me a small nod or a quiet thank you. We did not all become best friends overnight, and things were still far from perfect, but I knew one thing for sure: I was no longer alone.

One afternoon as the last bell rang and I packed my things slowly, I heard footsteps stop right beside the door. I looked up and saw Francis standing there, his hands in his pockets, his face serious and unreadable. He glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, then looked straight at me.

“This is not over yet,” he said quietly, his voice low so only I could hear. “Do not think you have won.”

I looked straight back at him without fear, my voice steady and calm. “And I will not stop until you learn to respect everyone around you. Being strong does not mean hurting others, Francis. It means protecting them.”

He stared at me for a long moment, like he was seeing me for the very first time. Then he turned and walked away without another word. But in that moment, I knew I had earned something important—not by being loud or fighting back with anger, but by standing firm for what is right. And that was a victory no one could ever take away from me.