Chapter Four: What Happened to You?

I got home late in the day, every muscle in my body screaming with aches and sores. The moment my bed embraced me, I felt a wave of blissful relief wash over me, hoping to just drift off into oblivion. But then, a soft rap echoed on my door.

"Come in," I mumbled, my voice a little muffled by the pillow.

Nanny Tee's gentle face peered around the doorframe. "Master Nicholas, Dinner is ready and your mother insisted you eat in the dinner with them today," she announced, her tone as warm and comforting as always.

Great, mom. Just great. My inner monologue seethed. Of all the days, it's the day my face is an angry, swollen mess that you decide on a mandatory family dinner. Perfect timing, as always. The thought alone made my stomach churn with a mix of dread and frustration.

I instinctively reached for my trusty hoodie, pulling it on and yanking the hood up, desperate to conceal the tell-tale puffiness that marred my face. It was my shield, my pathetic attempt at normalcy. "I'm ready, nanny," I said, my voice muffled by the fabric. She, ever so patiently, helped me out of bed and into my wheelchair, then wheeled me towards the dining table.

When we arrived, I barely looked up. My only goal was to get food on my plate and get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible. I just grabbed my meal, head down, and started eating, not saying a single word.

Every chew felt like an effort.

Every glance from anyone at the table felt like a spotlight on my face—like they were watching, waiting—even though I was trying hard to disappear.

“Honey! How was your day?”

She just had to talk, didn’t she?

I glanced up for a second, then dropped my eyes back to the plate, silent.

What do you think, Mom? I got my ass kicked at school like always, I said to myself.

"Bart, you heard her, so... answer the damn question," Zack's voice, sharp and laced with an annoying authority, cut in, seemingly oblivious as he casually forked a green bean into his mouth. I didn't have the strength to argue, to fight back. The day had drained every ounce of fight from me. So I did. I answered her.

 “It was okay,” I said flatly, my voice barely carrying across the table.

Still, she smiled like it meant everything. She was really happy I spoke back to her, even if it was just a few meaningless words. "Okay... so... what did you do today?" she pressed, her voice practically vibrating with excitement.

I sincerely didn't want to see her mood sour, but she kept pushing.

“Mom, school was fine. Just drop the ‘I care’ act. Okay?”

The words came out sharper than I meant. I didn’t want to snap at her… but she was getting all cozy.

“Hey, brat. Watch it—you don’t always have to be a dick,” he snapped.

The table fell silent.

Tension sat in the air like a fog until Zack finally broke it.

“What’s with the hoodie, brat?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, tugging it down further to hide my face.

But Zack, being Zack, didn’t leave it alone. Unexpectedly, he yanked the hoodie off my head.

His face froze.

“Oh my God... What happened to you, baby?” Mom gasped, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes as she abandoned her dinner and rushed to my side, gently cupping the swollen part of my face.

“Who did this to you?” she whispered, panic breaking across her features. Her cheeks flushed red, and sorrow drowned her voice.

“Andrew did this, didn’t he?” Zack asked through clenched teeth, his fists balling at his sides.

“No one did anything! And Andrew definitely didn’t. I—I fell, okay?” I lied, trying to sound convincing.

But Zack didn’t buy it. His eyes didn’t move, didn’t blink—just burned through me like fire. He knew I hadn’t just fallen.

“I’m goanna teach that son of a bitch a lesson,” he muttered, already pushing his chair back.