Asa’s eyes tore away from cautiously watching Hunter and landed on the girl standing a few feet away from them, curled up by the corner of the wall and the lockers, scared and terrified. His gut clenched at the sight, only adding more fuel to his hatred for the boy standing in front of him.
It had been right after English period, just as the lunch bell rang, when Asa had heard Hunter’s mocking voice from the other end of the hallway He’d known in his bones by then that the prick was up to no good.
He’d arrived just in time to hear Hunter’s less than pleasant words to the girl, the kind that echoed in someone’s mind for days, corrupting it so that, later, it would shape the way they saw themselves.
The familiarity of it all had hit Asa somewhere deep in the chest.
And then came the blinding rage, and suddenly, fists were flown and profanities were spewed out from each other’s mouths. It was a wonder nobody heard them and a crowd didn’t congregate around the two boys yet.
Asa looked back at Hunter’s unapologetic eyes. “She looks fine to me,” he said. “More human than you, anyway.”
Hunter looked prepared to lunge at him again, but a shrill voice—that often reminded Asa of the whistle of the Hogwarts Express—cut through the tense air.
“What’s going on here?” asked the screeching voice.
He hated that voice.
The boys shook off their predatory stance, lowering their fists and unclenching their palms. Mrs. Cromwell, their disciplinary head, was someone on the list of school authorities one simply did not mess with.
“Still having trouble keeping your fists to yourself, San Román?” Cromwell’s beady, soulless eyes looked down from her nose at Asa as she took in the bruises and the cuts on him.
“Me? You’re blaming just me? You don’t even know what he did—” But Asa’s retort was cut short by that same nails-on-walls voice.
“Mr. San Román,” she curled her lips when she said his name, “I think it’s pretty well-known how you can be biased towards anything that involves Mr. Donoghue, so pardon me if I don’t take your account of what happened seriously.”
Asa snorted. “And what? You think the animosity is one-sided? How is his version of events going to be any more honest?”
“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to live with that, Mr. San—”
“Oh, for god’s sake!” He stood to his full height and scowled at Mrs. Cromwell. “It’s Asa. San Román is the family name. I get that you seem to like using that name, but would you mind?”
Mrs. Cromwell’s cheeks coloured, her hands shaking by her sides, as if she wanted to smack Asa’s head
“Watch it, young man. I do not appreciate being told what to do by the apes that come to this school.”
Asa raised a brow. “Does that include you too, Ma’am? I mean, you do attend this school, too.” From his peripheral view, Asa could see Hunter’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he tried to suppress it.
“Detention!” she boomed, her voice echoing throughout the deserted hallway. “For the rest of the week.”
Asa’s scowl deepened. He opened his mouth, ready to tell the stupid disciplinarian what had happened, when his eye caught the girl’s movements. She shook her head, the gesture quick and short, but he knew what it meant. Most of the bullied didn’t want to be dragged into the spotlight. Not ‘till they were ready to tell someone.
“You’re going to stick us together?” He scoffed, changing the course of what his words was going to say in a breath. “It’s probably just going to lead to him opening his stupid mouth and saying something that pisses me off.”
“You seem to be under the ridiculous idea that Mr. Donoghue is also receiving detention, Mr. San Román.”
Asa’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I wasn’t fighting with air, Cromwell! He was in it as much as I was. In fact, he initiated it—”
“Enough!” she snapped. “You’re not in detention for the fight, Mr. San Román. You’re in detention because you were mouthing off at the disciplinary head and implying that she is an ape.”
Asa knew—he really did—that he needed to shut his mouth. But when did he ever stop himself?
“Honestly, Cromwell. If I knew your feelings got hurt so easily,” he said, grinning at the woman, “I can assure you I think you’re prettier than an ape, if that is any consolation.”
And Asa earned himself an extra week of detention.
02.
Carmen
Carmen woke up with a start, her breaths coming in harsh gasps, her heart a wild, restless beast within her chest.
“Just a dream,” she mumbled, her hand coming to rest on the hollow of her neck. “Just a dream, Carmen.” She soothed herself, just like she always had to do the past years.
But she knew there was no falling back to sleep now. Not after seeing the horrid images flash through her mind.
It was the dead of night, and it was so quiet out here in her bedroom. But in her head, it was so loud up there, where the sun never rises.
Carmen wanted to know what it felt like to have light inside.
Her hands twitched and her fingers throbbed, her body looking for a way to scream. But she’d always been a quiet person, finding her sanctuary in art, like her very own art journal.
With that thought, a smile graced her face. The instant her eyes landed on the spiral hardcover book sitting on the floor of her room, along with the pens, markers and sketching pencils strewn about, she slid her legs off the edge of the bed and
