I was lazily standing by my locker, pulling out my books and trying to look invisible.
Which, by the way, is a skill I've mastered.
Blend into the background.
Avoid attention.
Survive the school day.
Easy.
Or at least… it was easy until I heard footsteps approaching.
My stomach immediately dropped.
"Oh my God… no… not today," I muttered under my breath.
I slowly turned.
Yep.
The Mean Girls.
Regina and her little army.
"Oh, pauper," Regina sneered, folding her arms. "I'm still not sure how you even got into this school. Honestly, I don't like seeing you around."
I rolled my eyes.
"Regina, just go away," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "Go bother someone who cares."
For a moment I thought I had won.
I walked past her like the queen of ignoring people.
Victory.
Until—
Suddenly something yanked my ponytail so hard my brain almost left my body.
"HEY—!"
Before I could react, I was pulled backwards and slammed onto the floor.
THUD.
Pain shot through my back.
Then came the giggling.
Evil giggling.
The girls stood over me like they had just won the lottery.
One of them popped open a juice bottle.
And before I could even move—
SPLASH.
Cold sticky juice poured all over me.
Red liquid soaked my shirt, my hair, everything.
I looked like a walking fruit punch disaster.
They laughed even harder.
Another girl kicked my bag.
My notebooks and pens scattered across the hallway floor.
I tried kicking toward them in anger.
They simply stepped back, still laughing.
Then Regina bent down slightly and smirked at me.
"You should really know your place."
Then they walked away like villains in a cheap movie.
Leaving me sitting there.
Sticky.
Wet.
Humiliated.
I sighed.
"Great."
I picked up my soggy books.
"Just another normal school day."
The Bathroom Disaster
Naturally, I went straight to the bathroom.
Because thinking about yesterday—about Ronson, my mom crying, everything—was already giving my brain a headache.
Once inside, I pulled off my soaked shirt, leaving just my black half-vest.
Classy.
Even in fruit juice.
I untied my ponytails and leaned over the sink, washing my hair under the tap.
"So annoying," I muttered, scrubbing furiously.
"One day Regina is going to eat mud. I swear."
I grabbed the school's emergency towel.
Old.
Frayed.
Probably older than me.
But it worked.
I started drying my hair.
Then—
Creeeak.
The bathroom door opened.
I froze.
Slowly I turned around.
Ethan.
He walked inside casually, running a hand through his messy hair like he had just stepped out of a commercial.
Then he saw me.
He froze.
Like someone pressed the pause button on his life.
His eyes widened.
And that's when I realized something.
I was standing there.
Wet hair.
Half vest.
Holding a towel.
My eyes widened too.
"HEY!" I shouted, pointing at him like a criminal. "What are you doing in the girl's bathroom?!"
Ethan blinked slowly.
Then he looked behind him.
At the door.
At the sign.
He raised an eyebrow.
"This says male bathroom."
My brain stopped.
My eyes slowly moved toward the door.
Male.
Bathroom.
Oh.
Oh no.
My face turned pale instantly.
Ethan leaned casually against the sink.
"You stormed into the wrong bathroom, genius."
"I did NOT storm in!"
"You did."
"I was attacked!"
He crossed his arms.
"By juice?"
I glared.
"By Regina."
His expression changed slightly.
Then he scoffed.
"That girl?"
His tone was suddenly cold.
"She's loud, fake, and about as intelligent as a broken vending machine."
I blinked.
Wow.
That was… brutal.
He continued calmly.
"Seriously, if arrogance was a subject, Regina would fail it."
I almost laughed.
"Wow, you really don't like her."
"Nobody with working brain cells does."
He grabbed a paper towel and tossed it toward me.
"You look like a melted popsicle."
"Thanks."
Then he glanced at the juice stains again.
"She poured juice on you?"
I nodded.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Pathetic."
For a moment he looked like he might go find Regina himself.
Instead he pulled off his oversized sweater.
And handed it to me.
"Wear this."
"I don't need—"
"You'll catch a cold."
His tone left no room for argument.
I slowly took the sweater.
It was huge.
Like a blanket with sleeves.
Ethan turned toward the door.
Then paused.
Without looking back he muttered,
"Next time Regina touches you… kick her."
Then he left.
Just like that.
Leaving me standing there holding his giant sweater like I'd just been through the weirdest sitcom scene ever.
Later That Night
The microwave beeped loudly.
Popcorn ready.
Mom shuffled over and poured it into a bowl.
She looked exhausted.
Hair tied back.
Old T-shirt.
Jeans.
Her legs probably aching from work and taking care of all of us.
She collapsed onto the couch and turned on the TV.
The screen flickered.
And there he was.
Ronson.
For the fifth time today.
Smiling like he owned the world.
Mom groaned immediately and switched the channel.
"The man wins Best Businessman every year at his company—GigaTech Innovations," she muttered.
"So annoying."
She popped popcorn into her mouth.
"Just wait," she added with a competitive smirk.
"One day I'll overtake him."
She sighed heavily.
"He left me here raising all these kids… I love them but it's too much sometimes."
Then the TV switched again.
And Ronson appeared again.
Standing beside a beautiful woman clinging to his arm.
Mom froze.
Her face darkened instantly.
In sudden anger—
She threw the bowl of popcorn across the room.
CRASH.
Popcorn exploded everywhere.
"Bloody bastard!" she shouted.
"I hate you so much!"
Her voice shook with anger.
And pain.
Tears filled her eyes but she quickly wiped them away.
Because that's what moms do.
They cry.
They throw popcorn.
And somehow…
They still keep going.