I somehow manage to make it to the library without crying. My frustration has turned to numbness. I feel both overwhelmed and empty at the same time. My wrist dully aches from Ren’s rough grip but the pain pales in comparison to the mental anguish I feel. I feel like I’ve lost everything in a few short hours.
I push open one of the doors to the library, relieved to find it unlocked. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if the doors had been locked and Mrs.Song had been off-campus for her lunch break.
Mrs. Song looks up at the sound of the door opening. She smiles as she sees me but then her smile weakens as she notices the expression on my face.
“Hey, are you okay?” She asks as she stands up, pulling a chair close to hers for me to sit on.
The question threatens to break the dam that is holding back my emotions.
I shrug and make a non-committal noise, unable to meet her pretty brown eyes fully. I sling my backpack down and it lands on the ground. I sit down in the chair and slump down.
“Terrible first day?” Mrs. Song asks, her voice soft.
I nod and bite my lip, wanting to speak but unsure if my voice is going to crack.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Mrs. Song has been my silent supporter since I started at Our Lady of Grace Academy. Freshman year, I had run to the library in search of a quiet place to cry. The bullying had begun that first day as soon as I had gotten out of Jaden’s car. First, they laughed at me, thinking I was sleeping with a lowly janitor, but once they found out that he was my brother and that I was poor, everything had somehow gotten worse. At this school, it was more acceptable to bang the help, than to be the help. Mrs. Song had consoled me then too. After a few weeks, everyone had gotten bored with teasing me and I had become Teagan’s friend. The bullying and teasing had stopped, but I never stopped coming to the library and talking to Mrs. Song. She made me feel better, even if she couldn’t always give me the answers I wanted. Her comforting presence was enough.
“Did you know that Ren Takeshima was such a dick?” I finally huff out.
Mrs. Song is used to my language by this point, “To be honest, I don’t know much about him. You know he’s not the type to come in here.”
I smile at that.
Mrs. Song sees my smile and ventures on, “What happened? I thought you liked Ren? You've been talking about him since Freshman year. What changed?”
I cross my arms over my chest. I did like Ren, or at least I did before today. Although he had always been some distant star that I could never hope to reach, I had liked watching him from afar. He was handsome. A bit of a truant, but I liked when he did come to school. I liked seeing him in the hallways and in whatever classes we happened to share. I could have taken all upper-level classes so that I would be able to apply those credits to college, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I always kept a standard class or two in hopes that we would have one together and I could stare at him all class period.
Ren Takeshima had been an enigma to me. I had spent hours looking at him in hopes of figuring him out. His family was wealthy, old money rich. I had heard that as the eldest son, he would be the one his dad would hand the business down to. He was devastatingly handsome. All of the girls had flocked to him every year and yet he had never shown interest to any of them. I had always assumed that nobody was good enough for him. It didn't make sense. He had everything. Looks, money, a mysterious air of attraction that drew everyone in. Why did he shun nearly everybody? Why did he seem to have no drive or ambition? I had seen his grades before. I knew he wasn’t stupid, he just didn’t care enough to actually try at school.
“I did like him, but that was before I learned that he was an absolute dick,” I finally answer.
“And how did you come to that conclusion?” The corner of Mrs. Song’s lips tilt up.
I sigh and then pick up my backpack from the floor. I unzip it and grab my crumpled lunch bag. I open it and show the ruined inside to Mrs. Song.
“I accidentally ran into him this morning. I made him drop all of his stuff, which wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t think that he was too cool to wear a backpack. In first period he kicked my backpack and then stepped on it. I guess that was when he broke the Tupperware and ruined my lunch.”
Mrs. Song purses her lips, “That’s bullying, you know? That kind of behavior is against the Student Code of Conduct.”
I give Mrs. Song a look. We both come from similar working class backgrounds but we’re not stupid enough to think that the students here actually have to abide by the Code of Conduct. All of the students here have parents who donate thousands of dollars to the school annually. The check may say that it's for programs, activities, gourmet meals, and renovations but really the money is a bribe. It ensures that their children get passing grades, the necessary recommendations when it's time to apply to universities, and teachers and administration turn a blind eye to some of their more unsavory behavior.
She meets my gaze with a sigh. She knows it’s hopeless. “Well, I bet you're hungry, right? I was just about to start eating. Do you want some?”
I shake my head, “No, it's okay.” I bite my lip and hope that my stomach doesn’t choose this exact moment to growl and embarrass me even further.
Mrs. Song makes a clicking noise with her tongue, “Don’t worry about it, Octavia. I have plenty. My mother-in-law is in town and you know how she is. I have a ton of banchan and meat.”
Before I can protest anymore, Mrs. Song gets up and goes into her tiny office. I hear the mini fridge open and the pressing of buttons on the microwave before she returns with a container and two packs of disposable chopsticks.
“These are just the cold dishes. The warm ones are in the microwave.” She smiles down at me.
I grin up at her, “You're too kind to me, Mrs. Song.”
She waves my words away, “You're too kind for this world, Octavia. You know that you're the only one who comes and sees me? I think I would waste away in this little library if I didn’t have you for company.”
She sets down a sectioned container of kimchi, seasoned spinach, and sauteed bean sprouts. “The rice and the Dakgalbi are in the microwave now.”
We talk for a little until the microwave beeps and then she goes and gets the food. She returns with another container and a paper plate. Mrs. Song takes a seat and gives me an equal portion of rice. She then opens the large container of Dakgalbi and sets it between us along with the container of banchan. I thank her once again for the food and then we begin to eat.
We laugh and talk some more as we eat. I tell her about Teagan and Mrs. Song tells me about the book she’s writing. I promise to be her first beta reader when she’s done. For the first time since I arrived at school this morning, there is a genuine smile on my face.
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIzU5hApycO
