2. The Culprit

When I was younger, I used to hang out with my mom's brother a lot. My uncle. He was one of the only people who didn't look at me like I was a mistake someone forgot to erase.

It was through him that I realized... I wasn't exactly normal.

One afternoon, he brought his fiancée over for dinner. Mom told me to behave—"Use your best manners," she said like I was some barely tamed stray she'd picked up off the street. And to be fair, I almost did.

They walked in together, hand in hand, all smiles and performative charm. But the moment he introduced her to us, I heard it—clear as day.

His thoughts. Not about her.

About someone else. The real woman he wanted to be with.

So, being the idiot kid I was, I tilted my head and asked: "Why are you marrying her if you don't even like her?"

Everyone went silent.

Then I continued, because I didn't know how to shut up back then: "You think she's annoying and overbearing. You said that in your head. But the girl you really like has long legs and red hair and works at your gym—"

"Anne!" my mother snapped.

My uncle started objecting, trying to do damage control. But I kept going, swearing I was telling the truth. The truth he was thinking. And his fiancée?

She flipped out. Screaming. Crying. The whole dramatic meltdown in surround sound. Within minutes, they were in a full-blown argument, throwing blame and venom like confetti.

Mom slapped me across the face. Told me to stop lying.

I cried. I wasn't lying. I could hear it. I tried to explain, but that just made her angrier.

Long story short, my uncle got dumped. Mom blamed me. Forced me to apologize.

She only stopped when I looked at her and asked, "Why do I have to apologize when you're thinking the same thing?"

She froze.

Her thoughts in that moment? 'I actually gave birth to a demon.'

And just like that, she walked out of the room. Out of the house.

Haven't seen her since.

Dad came home that night and found me watching cartoons alone, legs swinging off the couch like nothing had happened. He tried to call her, but she didn't pick up.

That day, six years old and bleeding from the mouth, I learned two things.

One: reading minds ruins lives.

Two: apparently, I'm a demon child.

I'm not, of course. I'm just a little abnormal in how I look and what I can do.

Anyway—

Back to now.

I walked the school hallways with a mission. No longer just hearing thoughts by accident—I was searching. Hunting. For him.

The voice.

The one that stole my first kiss while I slept.

Everyone avoided my eyes, as usual. Whispered thoughts about how unsettling I looked. Some flinched when they saw me coming.

Good.

'There's Anne. I wonder if she ate enough for lunch this time...'

There it is.

That thought. That voice.

But where?

I glanced around casually, trying to match the voice to a face. No one was looking at me. No one was even near me. Dammit. Was I losing it?

Then I slammed right into someone.

The last person I wanted to see.

Victor Blackwood.

Tall, golden-haired, honey-eyed Greek god of the school. Football star. Town darling. Every teacher's favorite. Every girl's fantasy.

"My bad, here." He flashed his perfect, blinding smile and handed me something—candy.

Strawberry taffy.

It smelled familiar.

'I hope I didn't look weird in front of her.'

There it is. That voice.

Before I could stop myself, I shouted, "IT WAS YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

I launched forward and double-kicked him in the back, both feet connecting with satisfying force. He toppled like a sack of bricks.

"What the fuck?!" Victor snapped, rolling to his feet.

'Why am I being attacked in front of so many people?'

A crowd had started to gather.

Shit.

I grabbed his collar and yanked him out of the crowd, dragging him down the hallway. He barely resisted. If anything, he was more confused than upset.

'This should really be the other way around! I should be pulling her into a closed-off area! I should stop this... but look at that ass. It's even more perfect up close.'

Fucking pervert.

We reached the stair landing. Isolated enough.

"What the hell is going on here?" he snapped, breathing hard. He looked pissed—but underneath that, his thoughts were drifting. Fantasizing about kissing me.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I growled, ignoring the noise in his head.

"What're you—"

"I was taking a nap in the nurse's office and then someone kissed me and ran away! It was you!"

"What the hell?! Do you even know me?! Why would I do that?! Why make that up?!"

"You don't know me either! Why're you throwing candy at me?! Pervert!"

"I don't like strawberry flavored candy so I gave the one I had to you!" he shot back. "Are you done?!"

He brushed past me, muttering something under his breath.

But his thoughts betrayed him.

'She saw me! She must've seen me! Dammit, why did I let myself get carried away like that? Ugh, but when else was I going to have a chance to see her cute sleeping face? I should've just taken another picture instead of getting greedy...'

Oh, this was definitely the guy.

And he could lie with a straight face. Impressive. Most kids our age couldn't pull that off if their life depended on it.

Evil. Perverted. Bastard.

I was going to kill him.

***

It took me about fifteen minutes to find Victor's classroom. I was practically vibrating with rage the whole way there, stalking the halls with nothing but red in my vision and a deep need for answers—or blood.

I peeked inside the room and spotted him near the back. His head was down, but he wasn't asleep. His mind was spiraling.

'As expected, she caught me. It was only a matter of time and... well even if she tells someone, it's not like they'll believe her.'

That did it.

I stormed into the classroom.

"Yo."

Victor looked up—and immediately turned pale. The kind of pale people go when they know they've been caught in something ugly. "Oh, you came. I need your—" His voice cracked halfway through his sentence as his eyes locked on me.

"It's... it's not me."

"I don't give a fuck what it is you do," I hissed, walking toward him. "But I can't fucking stand a liar."

"It's not me, I swear!"

"No, it's one thousand percent you. You kiss—"

"STOP!"

The slap came out of nowhere—hard, sharp, and blinding. My vision blurred and my cheek burned. The room went dead silent. Every student stared.

Victor's hand hovered in the air like he couldn't believe it either. "I didn't mean to—"

"Motherfucker, you think I'm fucking soft, don't you?" I snarled.

The world tilted for a second. My blood boiled. And then—I snapped.

I lunged at him without thinking, slamming into his chest with every ounce of fury I had. We crashed into desks, toppling them like dominoes. Victor, shocked, swung a wild punch. I dodged and grazed his jaw with a hit of my own.

That was all it took.

Chaos exploded.

We were grabbing, shoving, punching—scrambling like wild animals trying to rip each other apart. I could tell he was stronger. Taller. Broader. But he wasn't using all of it. Maybe because there were people watching. Maybe because deep down, he didn't really want to hurt me.

Which was fine. I'd hurt him enough for both of us.

'She's like an angry little hamster.'

I nailed him in the stomach for that one.

"What a fucking cheap shot, pervert!" I shouted, swinging again.

"You started this shit, you little bastard!" Victor yelled back.

We hit the floor, rolling, still grappling, still fighting—each punch driven by rage and insult and three years of bottled-up weirdness. Around us, thoughts shifted from entertained to alarmed. Someone started yelling for help.

Victor tried to pin me. I thrashed harder. I didn't feel anything anymore. Just adrenaline and fury. Just the need to win.

Suddenly, I was yanked backward—my arms locked by someone behind me. Victor was being dragged too, one of the PE teachers hauling him away by his collar.

"YOU FUCKING PERVERT! I'LL KILL YOU!" I screamed, still thrashing in the teacher's grip.

"COME AT ME, YOU ASSHOLE!" Victor yelled, pushing against the other teacher, his face twisted in a mix between a smirk and a snarl.

"Stop it now!" the PE teacher snapped, dragging me out of the room. "Are you okay?"

"Will be after I hit him again," I said.

***

Later, we were both shoved into chairs in the principal's office. Across from each other. Still breathing hard. Victor had a fresh black eye that made him look a little more tolerable. Probably the only reason I could stand to look at him.

'I've never even been in trouble before. Hopefully me losing my temper isn't going to affect Anne too badly. She was so cute I had to fight back so I didn't get hard. I even got a good look at her cleavage line through her shirt.'

Disgusting.

I wanted to throw the chair at him.

The principal folded his hands and looked at us like we were dirty gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "Now, what was this little scuffle about? Why would you guys fight in the music room?"

Of course he was only looking at Victor.

Victor kept his mouth shut. No way he was going to say the real reason. Not unless he wanted to admit to kissing me in my sleep like some greasy stalker.

And I wasn't about to confess that out loud either.

"Well I—"

"Because fuck him, that's why," I snapped.

"Anne!" The principal finally looked at me, shocked like I wasn't supposed to speak.

"Whatever, just give me the damn detention already," I said, folding my arms. "And this guy better get equal punishment. That's the only way I'll drop this."

"You are in no position to make demands!"

"It's not a demand. I just know who's going to get preferential treatment," I said coolly. "So let's skip the dog-and-pony show. And by the way, he started this. Not me."

The principal turned a shade of pink.

He wasn't expecting me to bite back. But I could already tell what was coming. He wanted to suspend me and give Victor a slap on the wrist.

Then I spotted the PE teachers still standing nearby. Eyes sharp. Judging. They wanted order, not bias. I tilted my voice loud enough for them to hear.

"Equal punishment, or we're going to have a much bigger problem."

The principal cleared his throat. "I think... a week's worth of detention for both of you should do it."

His thoughts were louder than his words. 'Damn brat. I'd expel you just for looking creepy if I could. That eye is making everyone here uncomfortable—'

I stood up abruptly, making my chair screech. "I'll take myself to the nurse then," I hissed, already walking toward the door.

My first time in the principal's office, and it was already a goddamn circus.

All thanks to that pervert.