Chapter 2: Scars they can't see

Tessa’s POV

A rural area in West Virginia. 

A slap across my face sent me crashing to the floor again.

“How dare you report us?” Jimmy growled, standing over me. My cheek ached as I held it, trying to get up.

“Report who?” I winced in pain, confused.

He slapped me again, harder this time which blurred my vision.

Jimmy was one of the most feared boys in our class, big, mean, and always surrounded by people too scared to challenge him. Even teachers walked on eggshells around him and I once overheard someone whisper that he was part of a cult group outside school.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said weakly, still holding my throbbing cheek.

Standing next to him was his ever-present friend Ben and his girlfriend Jessica, who was glaring at me with triumph in her eyes while Ben grinned like he was enjoying every second of what was happening.

Jessica smirked as she stepped forward with her arms folded.

“She’s lying, Jimmy,” she said sharply. “She saw us kissing yesterday and ran off to report it. That’s why we were called this morning. 

I had seen them kissing, yes—but I’d walked past without a word, I wasn’t stupid, getting involved meant giving myself a death sentence, especially with Jimmy. Jessica was twisting the truth, and I had no idea why.

“You saw me go into the teacher’s office to report you two?” I asked her, as tears fell freely from my eyes.

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Just say the truth, freak,” Ben scoffed. “You’re just jealous because no one wants to kiss you,” he added.

His words cut deeper than the slap as shame crawled up my face, by this time, students were already gathered around, whispering and staring.

“This better be the last time you try anything this stupid,” Jimmy warned. “Next time, you won’t even recognize your way home, I promise.” With that, he stormed off with Ben while Jessica stayed behind just a moment longer.

“I told you I was going to deal with you, didn’t I?” she said, sneering. “I hate you, Tessa. Why do you always come first in math? I was supposed to be the best, but you never let it happen and now you’re even going for the competition!.”

She gave me one final scoff, hissed, and walked away.

It clicked then—Jessica had set this up. All because of math? I never imagined doing well in school would make someone hate me this much.

I walked out slowly, brushing dirt off my uniform as tears streamed down my cheeks.  

But no matter how messed up things felt, I kept telling myself one thing that I could change my life. If I just worked hard enough, stayed focused, and didn’t give up, maybe I really could become something more… someone better. But right now, it felt like that determination was quietly slipping away.

When I got home, I tossed my bag onto the old chair beside the door, the one I had propped up with stacked books just to keep it standing—and sank to the floor. My back hit the wall painfully—the same spot where Jimmy had shoved me earlier. I winced in pain, rubbing it gently.

***

I thought I’d close my eyes—just for a bit—before getting ready for work. My whole body ached. Just ten minutes, I told myself.

But when I opened them again, the sky was already darker, I’d overslept. There was no time left, and the restaurant wasn’t even close.

I worked evenings, delivering food to cover all my basic needs. I’d applied to be a waiter, but the manager took one look at the scar on my face and said he didn’t want to lose customers. 

“You can deliver outside instead,” he told me, like I wasn’t even human.

I quickly changed out of my school uniform and checked myself in the broken mirror by the door. My face was still swollen and red. I pulled my cap lower, trying to hide it, then rushed out of the door.

By the time I got to the restaurant, I was already 45 minutes late.

“I am sorry sir,” I said to our manager as I walked in.

“It’s fine,” he smirked. “Just know it’s coming out of your pay.”

I sighed, biting back my frustration, my fists clenching slightly at my sides.

Catherine—my delivery partner—hurried over and grabbed my hand.

“Tessa, what happened? Why are you late? You look awful!”

“I’m okay Catherine,” I lied, trying to ignore the pounding headache that hadn’t stopped since Jimmy’s slap.

I had barely sat down in the waiters’ section when Sam—one of the senior waiters—rushed over.

“Hey, Tessa! I signed you up to serve in my place for the next 30 minutes. I’ll be right back,” he said quickly, already halfway out the door.

“Wait—Sam—” But he was gone.

“Tessa!” another server called. “Table Nine needs service!”

I stood up, adjusting my cap again.

“Hello sir, what can I get for you?” I asked as I reached the table.

“Get me a Philly cheesesteak and a Coke,” the man said without even looking up.

“Okay, sir,” I replied, turning away on unsteady legs.

As I walked back, I whispered to one of the servers, “Please, can someone else take it?”

“There are no other waiters to take the order now,” he responded, looking around the crowded room. 

I picked up the tray with trembling hands and balanced the plate and drink as best I could.

“Just breathe, Tessa,” I whispered to myself. “You can do this.”

The hallway felt longer than usual and the tray threatened to slip from my grip. Halfway there, the pain in my head flared up, my vision doubled, and my knees gave way.

The tray crashed to the floor and the glass and plate shattered everywhere.

I heard someone shout my name—but it was already fading.