Chapter 3 Marco The Terror

Grant Elementary, Five Years Later

7:50 a.m.

Isla's Point of View

The morning sun was already warming the streets of Chicago as Isla and her little brother, Marcus, walked down the sidewalk toward Grant Elementary. Isla, now 10, was still in the same class as her best friend, Sade, though a lot had changed since kindergarten. For one, they weren’t the only ones walking to school anymore. Madison, now 12, had joined them, though she always seemed to be in a hurry to get to school before Isla and Sade, usually striding ahead with her pre-teen confidence.

Marcus, at only six, walked alongside Isla, his tiny Iron Man backpack bouncing up and down with each step. He was just starting at Grant this year, and though he was excited, Isla could tell he was also nervous. He clung close to her side, occasionally looking up and asking, “Do you think my teacher’s nice? What if I forget where the bathroom is?”

“Don’t worry, Marcus,” Isla said, her voice soft and reassuring. “Your teacher will be great, and if you need anything, just ask her or one of your classmates. You’ll be fine.”

Sade walked next to them, adjusting her shirt as they neared the school. Isla knew exactly what she was fidgeting with—her new bra. Sade had confided in her last week that she’d just started wearing one, and she hated it. She felt embarrassed, like she was the only one in their grade who needed one already.

“I still feel like this thing is sticking out, or something,” Sade muttered under her breath, tugging at her shirt.

Madison, walking a few steps ahead, turned her head with an eye roll. “Sade, it’s fine. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Isla smiled and tried to reassure her. “Really, Sade, it looks fine. No one’s even gonna notice.”

“I notice,” Sade mumbled.

“You’ll get used to it,” Madison said matter-of-factly. “I mean, I just got mine too, and it’s not like the whole world is staring at me or something.” She turned back around, striding ahead confidently.

As they reached the school gates, Marcus grabbed Isla’s hand. “You’re gonna take me to my class, right?” he asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Of course, buddy,” Isla said, giving his hand a little squeeze. “Let’s go.”

She led him inside the school while Sade and Madison waited near the hallway entrance. Marcus held onto her hand tightly as they navigated through the bustling corridors of Grant Elementary. When they reached his classroom, Isla crouched down to his level.

“Okay, this is it,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “Your teacher’s name is Ms. Taylor. See? Her name is right there on the door.” She pointed to the sign.

Marcus nodded nervously. “What if I don’t know where to sit?”

“Ms. Taylor will help you,” Isla said. “Just go in, say good morning, and tell her your name. You’ve got this.”

Marcus hesitated for a moment before nodding again. “Okay.”

“Have a great day, little man,” Isla said, giving him a quick hug before he stepped inside. She watched as Ms. Taylor greeted him with a kind smile and helped him find his seat. Feeling relieved, Isla hurried back to join Sade and Madison.

When they stepped into their own classroom, Isla couldn’t help but notice Marco sitting near the back of the room. He was the new kid from New York, and he already had a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker. Marco had three sisters, a brother, his mom, and his grandma. Isla had overheard Sade saying that his dad had passed away earlier that year during a robbery.

Marco caught sight of Sade as they passed, and without missing a beat, he reached out and gave one of her braids a playful tug.

“Ow! Marco!” Sade spun around, glaring at him.

He just laughed, leaning back in his chair like he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Isla raised an eyebrow, watching the exchange. She thought Marco was kind of cute—he had a mischievous grin and bright brown eyes—but she wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was a little short and skinny, but there was something about him that made her curious.

Sade, on the other hand, was not amused. “He’s such a punk,” she muttered as they took their seats.

“Why don’t you just ignore him?” Isla suggested, glancing over at Marco, who was now chatting with a group of boys nearby.

“Easier said than done,” Sade replied, crossing her arms. “He’s always messing with me. Yesterday, he popped my bra strap during recess. I swear, he’s trying to get on my nerves.”

Isla smirked. “He probably just likes you.”

“Yeah, right.” Sade rolled her eyes. “If that’s how he shows it, I definitely don’t like him back.”

Isla chuckled. “Well, at least he notices you. That’s more than I can say.”

Sade shook her head, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “Whatever. He’s still a punk.”

As the morning went on, Isla couldn’t help but glance at Marco every now and then. He was loud and full of energy, but there was something about him that made her think he wasn’t as bad as he seemed. Sade, however, clearly had no patience for him—and Isla couldn’t wait to see how this dynamic played out