1

Maxine

“Max!” I heard my friend, Poppy, call. I slipped off my headphones and turned to her.

I’ll meet you at lunch. Coach Lodge asked to see me,” Poppy said, now changed back into our uniforms after cheer practice.

“Sure.” I caught the pack of gummy worms she tossed at me and left the changing room with my bag slung over my shoulder.

One of the pros of moving to a different country to start your senior year is that you move into a stunning mansion your mom inherited from your grandparents, get enrolled in a fancy private school, and immediately meet a glammed-up redhead who becomes your student guide and first friend. She even enlists you in the cheer squad because she’s the captain and the sweetest person alive.

However, there are a suffocating list of cons. For example, the mansion you moved into has a much larger mansion right next door. One random evening, you meet your neighbor—a quadriplegic, middle-aged woman—who tells you about her struggles. Out of pure, misguided sympathy, you mention Medically Assisted Death, not knowing she has three teenage sons who will try to murder you for saying something so "horrible" to their mother.

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, you realize they are the golden boys of your new high school. In just my first week of the term, they have haunted my very existence.

I had to walk across the field to get to the cafeteria, the same field where the football team was still practicing. One of my problematic neighbors, Mike, is a huge part of the team. He’s the best wide receiver they’ve got, complete with long hair, sharp green eyes, and a level of smugness that should be illegal. I tried to quietly walk across the grass, hoping he wouldn’t notice—

White-hot pain shot through my vision.

So much for going unnoticed. A football had just slammed into my head, and there was only one person on the team with that kind of lethal precision—Mike. I swallowed the sob threatening to escape my throat, praying the jerk hadn't actually blinded my left eye.

“Sorry!” I heard him yell from across the field. He didn't sound sorry. He sounded like he’d intentionally targeted my temple to give me a concussion.

To be honest, I knew I was in the wrong for what I’d said to their mom, so I’d accepted the initial torment. I’d endured the "accidental" trashing of my lunch, the water-hosing, and the hours I spent scrubbing pink slime out of my hair just two days ago. But I’ve genuinely had it up to here. I’m not putting up with their shit anymore.

I have apologized countless times even when Mike was literally strangling me in our own backyard and Johnny pointed a knife to my throat. Every time they let me open my mouth, I say I'm sorry. But fuck them. I’m done being sorry.

I shoved my anger and tears down and continued my walk to the cafeteria. I detoured to the bathroom to check if my eyeball was still in its socket because the area had gone completely numb. My eye was bloodshot, and a dark bruise was already blossoming at the corner. I rinsed it with cold water and went to lunch. If I went to the nurse, I’d just get them in more trouble, and more trouble was the last thing I needed from Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Just as I was grabbing a tray, another Chipmunk decided it was the perfect time to strike.

“Hey—oh my god, what happened to your eye?” Bran, the one with the glasses, asked.

I ignored him and tried to reach my seat, but he blocked my path.

“Will you kindly fuck off?” I said as respectfully as possible, tilting my head back to match his height.

“Fuck off,” Bran mocked, mimicking my British accent with a sneer.

“Bran, If you don't let me pass, you're going to be wearing my lunch,” I told him.

“Well, you’ll be kissing me after you find the surprise I left in your locker.” Brandon flicked my hair roughly and walked away with an annoying smirk on his face.

I made a mental note to never go anywhere near my locker.

Poppy joined me shortly after, and I waited for her to finish eating before we headed to our next class. I’d managed to avoid my locker for most of the day, but eventually, I had to grab a textbook for an assignment.

“I have a gift for you,” Poppy said, handing me a gift bag. I took it with a smile.

“What is it?”

“A new cheer uniform. Yours is way too decent. I got you a sexier one,” she said, winking through lashes so long and full I couldn't tell if they were real.

“Thank you, Poppy. I appreciate your efforts to show the world my ass,” I joked.

She giggled and walked over to her locker a few rows down. I unlocked mine obliviously. That’s when the hoard of bugs erupted, flying straight into my face. I screamed, falling to the ground and frantically dusting them off my skin. The only thing I fear more than being arrested for murder is cockroaches, and I had stupidly mentioned that in class yesterday.

I broke into sobs, crawling away from the insects scattering across the hallway. These boys had pushed me too far. I clenched my jaw, looked up, and snatched a baseball bat from a boy standing nearby. I stormed toward the exit.

“Maxine! Max, wait! you’re going to get in trouble!” Poppy yelled, but I didn't stop. Adrenaline was coursing through me, fueling every step.

When I saw them in the driveway near their car, I launched. The first person I hit was Mike, right across his back, I didn't care if I ruined his football career. He doubled over, groaning in pain, as I swung again and caught his arm. The boys scattered, but I managed to catch Bran and crack the bat against his knee.

I don't know who finally managed to wrestle the bat away from me, but I didn't stop. I launched myself at Bran anyway, hitting him with my fists as hard as I could. I was crying, frustrated that my arms weren't doing as much damage as I wanted.

“Get off me, freak!” Bran barked, grabbing my wrists and shoving me back.

Suddenly, someone grabbed my hair and yanked me off him. I turned to see the last of them, Johnny. Without thinking, I clamped my teeth down on his arm. I was ready to draw blood, but he jerked away just in time.

They all backed off, and I sat there on the asphalt, shaking and crying like a child. I stood up, ignoring the mob of students that had gathered to watch the carnage.

“I have had enough! Enough!” I screamed at them. “I have apologized more than I have in my entire life for what I said to her. That’s all you're getting! None of you stupid boys will ever come close to me again!”

I wiped my eyes and turned around, only to find the principal standing there, her expression unreadable.

“The four of you. My office. Now.”