Chapter 10: Bullying

The warning stayed in my head longer than I expected. I kept telling myself it was nothing. It was just a bunch of girls obsessed with Kingsley Arctic’s captain. I decided to ignore the warning, because I knew people would eventually get bored. At least that’s what I hoped.

But after one of our classes, I realized I was wrong.

"She’s here..." someone whispered.

As I walked down the hallway toward my locker, the whispers didn’t stop every time I passed. I tried not to pay attention to them. Three girls stood near the vending machines.

They weren’t the same girls from yesterday, but the second our eyes met, one of them whispered something that made the others laugh.

"What the hell’s wrong with them?" Chloe asked, confused.

"What?" I frowned when she grabbed me and looked at me.

"Why are they talking about you and laughing? You don’t have anything on your face, and there’s nothing wrong with how you look right now."

I quickly brushed her hand away. "Just ignore them," I said, and opened my locker to put some of my books inside.

But the moment I opened it, my eyes widened at the sight of rotten, maggot-infested food inside.

"Oh shit!" Chloe cursed, furious.

Almost every student in the hallway covered their noses when the smell of rotten fish hit the air. I heard some of them laughing and taking pictures of the inside of my locker like what was happening was funny.

"What the hell..." I whispered under my breath.

It wasn’t just one piece of rotten fish in my locker. There were also tons of crumpled papers inside. I grabbed one and read it.

‘Stay Away’

That’s all it said. I opened a few more crumpled papers, and they all said the same thing — messy handwriting, no name, no explanation.

"Who did that?" Chloe asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Tell me if you know who did this, Layla. If I find out, I’m going to pull their hair."

I squeezed my eyes shut and felt a wave of anger. "I’m not giving whoever wrote this the satisfaction," I said, and quickly gathered them up and threw it in the trash.

I thought that would be the end of it, but on the second day after the warning from Blondie, things got a little worse.

The morning I walked into the room, my desk was covered in vandalism, full of insulting and mocking words.

"Layla, we can change seats—"

I looked at Chloe and shook my head. "No, thanks," I said, and immediately covered my desk with my books.

After the first subject of the day, we went out into the hallway right away, praying we wouldn’t run into Wade. Because if we did, his fans would lose it, and it probably wouldn’t just be bullying anymore.

Students filled the hallway as we walked. It was so loud, but I was startled when someone slammed into my shoulder. And I knew it wasn’t an accident, because I saw how she did it.

"Look where you’re going!" I said, glaring at the group of girls. They weren’t the same ones who warned me.

"Oh, my mistake. I didn’t see you there!" she said, and they all laughed.

I looked at my books scattered on the floor. They walked away quickly before I could say anything.

I sighed, knelt down, and picked up my things one by one. Chloe knelt too and helped me.

"Seriously? What is wrong with them?!"

We stood up. "People don’t accidentally shoulder-check someone that hard."

"They do if they’re blind," I replied, rolling my eyes in frustration. Is there even a day when his fans won’t gang up on me?

"You were pushed!" Chloe defended.

"I know," I said. "They’ll get tired."

There wasn’t much I could do if they kept going. My only solution was not to approach or talk to Wade in public.

On the third day, I could still hear the whispers and laughter, but thank God, there was no physical stuff today.

Class ended peacefully that afternoon, and I almost wanted to smile. I walked quickly toward the art studio. I passed by the Hockey Building and could hear the players inside. I tried not to be noticed.

But I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard one of them call my name.

"Layla!" he called.

I didn’t look back. I walked even faster, and I could still hear him calling me.

Don’t look back, don’t look back!

I was walking so fast I was almost running. I made it to the art studio, opened the door, and went inside. But I was startled when, just as I was about to close it, a big hand stopped the door.

"Jesus!" I screamed. "You scared me!"

"I was calling you," he said, and I could hear the irritation in his voice.

Fresh from practice, he still wore his dark blue hockey jersey under an unzipped hoodie. Damp blond hair stuck slightly to his forehead.

"Go away!" I said. "I want to be alone right now. I don’t need your help."

"The dean talked to me earlier and wants to see that I’m here supporting and helping you," he explained.

I rolled my eyes. "I don’t need help, Wade."

"I didn’t ask."

I was startled when he opened the door all the way, walked past me, and came inside, looking around.

I glanced around and exhaled in relief. Thank God. No one else was here. Just the two of us.

"Please just go! You'll get bored!"

"I won't." He said casually.

I held my head. I walked toward my easel, untied my hoodie, and slipped my artist’s apron over my clothes before tying my red hair into another messy bun. When I turned around... He was still there. Watching.

"What?" I snapped at him. "Don’t stare at me unless you want me to stab your eyes with a paintbrush." I warned.

He didn’t say anything. He just watched me, which irritated me even more. I don’t want him here, I don’t need him, and I won’t be needing him. He’s the reason my quiet life got ruined!

I started painting, but I glanced at the side and was too lazy to get up. I looked at Wade.

"If you’re going to annoy me, at least make yourself useful."

"Which one?" he asked, and sighed.

"The yellow." I ordered.

He immediately handed me a heavy paint bucket.

"You really hate saying thank you..." he muttered and shook his head.

I’d been painting here for a few minutes now, and we’d been silent for just as long. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel him watching me.

"You can leave now." I said.

"Let’s go home together." he said, and my eyes widened.

"No!" He looked surprised.

"Why?"

"No! Just no!" I swallowed. "I don’t want to go home with you! You’re too annoying and I can’t stand you, just go home. It’s not your responsibility to wait for me to finish here."

I saw his face darken and his jaw tightened.

"I’m doing this to please you," he stated. "I need your signed statement as soon as possible."

I rolled my eyes. "You being nice to me isn’t a reason for me to do that," I said.

"What do you want me to do then?" he asked like he was challenging me.

I sighed and stared at him. "Stop bothering me. That’s all you can do."

I wanted to add that he should never talk to me or come near me again, but I decided not to say it.

I’ve been hating Wade Scott for years now, and I don’t know how or when the hate I feel for him will go away. Especially since he’s going to be my stepbrother.

"You really think I enjoy following you around?" he asked.

I didn’t answer.

"Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else."

"Then what’s stopping you?"

"The fact that your scholarship is somehow my responsibility now. And I’m not risking my hockey career because you can’t stand looking at me."

I didn’t answer. I just glared at him.

But I looked toward the door when I saw a girl standing there. A phone pointed directly at us. And when our eyes met, she quickly lowered her phone and ran off fast.

What the hell?!

Why was someone taking pictures of Wade and me?