My first day at a new high school, and the king already had it in for me. Because I wore the same band t-shirt as Chloe, the queen bee, I was a “pathetic try-hard.” Zach, the school’s star quarterback, deliberately “tripped” and poured a carton of milk over my head. He gave me a slimy, insincere apology while yanking my hair. When he saw my face, he stopped, and his eyes narrowed. He sneered. "Whoa, colored contacts on day one? Desperate much? Who are you trying to hook?" I just looked at him calmly. "It's not a contact. It's a prosthetic." 1 "What?" Zach looked like I’d just started speaking another language. He frowned, his expression a weird, subtle mix of confusion and disbelief. "What did you say? If it's not a contact, then what is it?" I sighed. This was the part of transferring I always dreaded. I calmly pushed his hand away. I slicked my milk-soaked hair back from my face, grabbed a napkin, and wiped the sticky mess off my forehead. My face was probably pale as a sheet. I met his eyes steadily. "Watch." Zach just frowned, totally confused. The next second, in front of the whole class, I expertly pulled up my upper eyelid and popped the prosthetic out. I held the golden-flecked piece of acrylic out to a suddenly pale Zach and repeated myself. "It's not a contact. It's my prosthetic eye." "Am I clear enough now?" The noisy classroom had gone dead silent. Zach stared at the empty, hollow socket in my face for a long time, taking two involuntary steps back. "How...?" he looked dazed. He instinctively reached out, as if to touch my face, but I slapped his hand away. I quickly re-inserted the prosthetic, blinking hard to get it seated right. I knew I must look like a total mess. It didn't matter. I'd been through worse. This was nothing. After a few blinks, I looked up and met Zach’s complicated, horrified expression. "I thought you..." he stammered, his lips trembling, looking like he wanted to say more. But just then, the bell rang. I didn't wait. I just walked around the frozen-stiff Zach and went to my desk. My hair was dripping. I silently dabbed at it with more tissues. It was useless. Still disgustingly sticky. I ran out of tissues. Screw it. I ignored the damp patches on my clothes and pulled out my textbook, ready for class. Zach just stood by my desk, not moving. He stared at me as I tried to clean myself up, the empty milk carton still clutched in his hand. When I stopped dabbing at my hair, his gaze lingered on the damp strands. Finally, he knocked on the desk of the girl in front of me—Chloe. "Give me some tissues," he said, his voice hoarse. Chloe glared at him. "Zach, what the hell are you doing? The teacher's about to walk in. Go sit down!" "I said, give me some tissues!" he suddenly yelled. "Are you deaf?" 2 The quiet classroom amplified his voice. Everyone stared. Chloe, startled by his yelling, bit her lip. Her eyes went red as she angrily dug half a pack of tissues from her desk and threw it at him. "You're insane! Why are you yelling at me?" Zach ignored her, took the tissues, and held them out to me. I didn't take them. His hand just hung there, frozen. "They're for you. Just... use them," he said, his face tight with irritation. I finally, slowly, looked up and met his eyes. As soon as Zach saw my golden eye, he flinched like he'd been poked and quickly looked away. "What are you staring at? Just take them," he snapped. I realized, belatedly, that ever since I took my eye out, his entire attitude had flipped. Looking at this awkward, flustered version of Zach, an inappropriate thought popped into my head. "Is this you apologizing?" I asked calmly. He froze. Even his fingertips twitched, betraying his panic. "If taking your tissues means I have to forgive you, then no thanks." I kept my voice even, looking at his scowl. "I have no intention of accepting your apology. So please, take your stuff and get away from me. Thanks." He looked pissed. Seeing I wouldn't budge, he gave up and just shoved the tissues into my desk. I immediately pulled them out and dropped them on the floor. He silently picked them up, trying to hand them to me again. Just then, the teacher walked in. Chloe, who had been watching us, finally snapped. She stood up and yanked Zach's arm, pulling him toward the back of the class. "She doesn't want it, idiot! Why are you still kissing her ass?" She dragged him, knocking my desk hard as she passed. I didn't look at either of them. Didn't give them an ounce of my attention. Halfway through class, I heard a loud SMACK from the back row. It was sharp. He’d really hit himself. Several kids turned to look. Even Chloe in front of me kept glancing back at him, and every time she did, she’d shoot me a look of pure hatred. Like I was the one who’d done something wrong. Whatever. I ignored them both. I just pretended they didn't exist. 3 The bell finally rang. The sticky feeling was unbearable. I stood up to go to the washroom, but my foot caught on something, and I pitched forward. I threw my hands out, but my arm still scraped hard across the floor. "Hss," I sucked in a breath. The skin on my wrist was torn, and blood was already starting to well up, staining my sleeve. It looked worse than it was. I was pushing myself up when someone shoved through the crowd of onlookers, scooped an arm under my legs and another around my back, and lifted me off the ground. I had no warning. I panicked and grabbed his shoulders. "Are you okay?" Zach’s voice was right by my ear. He saw my bleeding arm and his brow tightened. "Don't move. I'm taking you to the nurse!" "I hurt my arm, not my leg," I said evenly. "Put me down. I can walk." He just ignored me, tightening his grip. "I can carry you," he glanced at me. "Stop being stubborn." I almost laughed. I was about to say something else, but right then, Zach’s foot twisted, and he lost his balance. A wave of vertigo hit me. Bad memories flashed in my mind, and my whole body went rigid. "Zach!" I screamed. He reacted instantly, trying to twist and shield my head. But it was useless. We fell hard. And since he was holding me, I was trapped underneath him, taking his full weight. My head hit something hard on the floor. THUNK. My skull rang like a bell. Right before I blacked out, I heard Zach yelling frantically at the crowd. "Chloe, quick, come here! I think your cousin just passed out!" My heart skipped. Cousin. So, he knew. No wonder he hated me so much. 4 I woke up at a bad time. "...you promised me! You promised you'd give her hell!" That was Chloe’s shrill voice. "So why are you backing out now?" I didn't open my eyes. I could hear Zach's fingers drumming rhythmically on a tabletop. "I said I'd teach her a lesson," he sighed, his voice rising in irritation. "But you didn't tell me she was disabled! You want me to bully a disabled person, Chloe? What do you think I am? An animal?" Chloe’s angry question got stuck, turning into a wounded wail. "She's just a one-eyed bitch!" Chloe's voice was sharp. "If she ruined your life, stole everything from you, I bet you wouldn't be playing Mr. Nice Guy!" Zach went quiet. He was thinking. The drumming stopped. Chloe moved closer. I could hear her breathing. "Zach, you promised," she said, her voice low and vicious. "Last spring, I took the fall for you. You owe me. I don't want anything else. I just want you to... wreck her." I heard her lean in close to his ear. "Ruin her." "I don't care how you do it." Long silence in the nurse's office. I could hear the wind rustling the blinds. I could hear Zach’s tiny, almost unnoticeable sigh. And then: "Fine. I'll do it." Chloe's mood flipped instantly. She stopped caring about his attitude and happily offered to buy him lunch. Zach didn't refuse. They left, one after the other. The second the door clicked shut, I opened my eyes. My head throbbed, but it wasn't too bad. I calmly turned off the voice recorder app on my phone and sat up. I knew Chloe didn't like me. From the day I moved into her house, she'd been hostile, hiding it behind a fake smile. But I never knew she hated me this much. Hated me enough to have Zach "ruin" me. I remembered Zach slapping himself in class, regretting bullying me. And then his "Fine. I'll do it." It was almost funny. Honestly, I was almost... curious. I wanted to see exactly how Zach planned to "ruin" me.
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