Chapter 3
I desperately tried to dodge, swatting their hands away.
"Don't touch me... My lady who adopted me gave me this dress... Don't touch me!" I cried, my voice cracking.
The more freaked out I got, the more hyped they became.
"Your mom bought it? So what, you think adopted by some country bumpkin makes you all that?" one of them sneered.
"Hey, grab a marker and write 'knockoff' on her dress!" one of them shouted.
One of the girls pulled out a marker, about to write all over my dress.
"This color is so tacky. Total waste of material," another girl jeered.
"Do the back too! Let's slap a donkey ears on her!"
I couldn't hold it in anymore—tears streaming down my face as I yelled, "Don't touch me!"
The classroom fell silent for a moment.
Then, everyone burst out laughing.
"Oh, look at the little loser throwing a fit!"
"Still got the nerve to yell? What are you, some crazy mutt?"
"Ugh, I can't stand that pathetic innocent act of yours!"
Jenna marched over with a frosty glare and gave me a sharp slap across the face. "Try yelling again, I dare you."
My face burned with pain, and my ears were buzzing.
I huddled against the wall, trying to use my backpack as a barrier between me and them.
Jenna was about to slap me again when the bell suddenly rang.
The teacher's footsteps approached, and everyone scattered, acting like nothing had happened as they rushed back to their seats.
The teacher, Logan Moore, walked up to the front, completely ignoring me.
I kept my head down, staring at my dress all covered in messy scribbles, tears falling nonstop.
William and Susan had picked it out for me. Now it was stained, the colorful blotches glaring under the classroom lights. What should I do now?
A heavy dread sat in my chest for the rest of the day.
When the final bell finally rang, I rushed to the bathroom, frantically scrubbing at my clothes and bag with wet paper towels.
The water only made the stains spread, the colors blooming into ugly, permanent marks.
I walked home so slowly that the streetlights began to flicker on, casting long shadows on the pavement.
From inside our house, I could hear Susan's muffled voice, asking William why I wasn't back yet.
Sniffling, I pushed the door open just as William reached for the handle.
His brow furrowed deeply as he took in my disheveled state.
"Sweetheart, what happened? Tell me," he asked, his voice gentle but firm.
I haltingly told him about what happened at school, stumbling over my words.
He listened quietly, then sighed and guided me to the sofa.
"Silly girl, no matter what happens out there, remember you aren't alone. If they push you, you push back," he said, pulling me close.
Susan burst out of the kitchen, a spatula in her hand. "Exactly! And if you're too scared to hit back, William will handle it!"
A fresh wave of tears welled up. I buried my face in Susan's apron. "I have a bad personality, and my grades are terrible. Am I just a burden?"
Susan stroked my hair, her touch full of care and warmth.
"Sweetheart, remember—grades don't matter at all in our home.
"We just want you to be a good person and enjoy every day. That's more than enough for us."
That night, Susan and I talked for a long time.
We talked late into the evening. She told me to stand tall—to never start trouble, but to never run from it either.
She reminded me I was still a child, that it was okay to lean on the adults who loved me.
As I listened, I felt myself slowly starting to relax, like a weight was finally lifting off my shoulders.
During finals week, I stayed inside during P.E. because of my period.
Before the bell even rang, Jenna stormed in, her face white as a sheet, frantically digging through her backpack.
"My necklace is gone! It was here last period, and now it's missing!" Jenna freaked out, her voice shaky.
She meant her favorite rose gold necklace—the one she claimed her mom brought back from overseas.
The other students rushed in after her.
"Did you drop it somewhere?" someone asked.
"Or did someone take it?" another spoke up.
Jenna turned and glared straight at me.
"Didn't you say you liked my necklace today? Isn't that just a little too convenient?"
I shook my head frantically. "I never touched your necklace."
"Should we check her bag?" one of the students said.
"Yeah, if she's got nothing to hide, what's the big deal?" another chimed in.
Before I could even protest, they just went ahead and ripped open my backpack.
All my stuff tumbled out onto the floor.
And right there, lying among my things, was the necklace.