Chapter 3: Whispers in the Hallway

Kyle was stunned. “Wait, what?”

He blinked, looking from me to Chris and back again, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.

“She’s my boss.”

Chris’s tone was dead serious. The words hung in the air, and the other guys shifted uncomfortably.

Kyle’s jaw dropped, then he forced an awkward laugh. “You’re kidding, right, Chris? For real?”

He tried to play it off, but his voice was shaky. No one else was laughing.

Chris stepped in front of me and jammed a cap on my head.

He pulled the cap low over my eyes.

“Wait outside.”

His voice brooked no argument. I nodded and slipped out, the cap sliding down over my forehead.

I must’ve sat out there for half an hour.

I sat on the curb, knees pulled to my chest, watching cars crawl by. The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. I fiddled with the brim of the cap, trying not to think about what was happening inside.

There were loud crashes inside the café, but I didn’t pay attention. Part of me wanted to look, but I just stared at my sneakers.

A little devil inside me was cheering: Get ’em, make them pay.

Part of me felt guilty, but mostly I just hoped Kyle and his friends would finally get what they deserved. I hugged my backpack tighter, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread.

When Chris finally came out, his face was expressionless. He reached out and touched my cheek.

His fingers were cool, gentle, tracing the swelling where Kyle had slapped me. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Ow!”

I winced, pulling away. The pain was sharp, but his touch was careful.

Kyle had just slapped me, and my face was swollen.

I could feel the heat radiating from my cheek, and I knew it was already turning red.

Chris’s voice was calm but sharp: “I called you, but you never picked up.”

He sounded more annoyed than angry, like I’d missed a homework assignment, not a call from a would-be protector.

“We’re not allowed to have phones at school.”

I shrugged, hoping he’d believe me. It was technically true—Maple Heights had a strict no-phones policy, and teachers loved to confiscate them.

Chris looked surprised for a second, like he’d just remembered something. He said, “There’s a guy named Tyler in class 3C. If anyone messes with you again, go find him.”

He rattled off the name like it was a secret password. I nodded, committing it to memory, just in case.

I remembered something and took a dollar out of my bag.

My fingers fumbled with the zipper, and I pulled out the crumpled bill, smoothing it out before offering it to him.

“This is all I have. Take it.”

My voice was small, but I meant it. It was all I could give.

Chris laughed, half annoyed. “What am I, a stray dog to you?”

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. For a second, I thought he might actually take it, but he just pushed my hand away.

But I really had nothing else.

I felt my face flush again, embarrassed by how little I had to offer. I shoved the dollar back into my bag, wishing I could disappear.

“Forget it. Maple Heights kids are all brainiacs, right? Help me with some homework instead, call it even?”

His tone was teasing, but there was something softer underneath. I exhaled, relieved.

That was easy.

I nodded.

Chris took a twenty from his wallet and handed it to me. “Go grab what you need from the pharmacy, and bring me the change.”

He pressed the bill into my hand, his eyes serious. I stared at it, confused.

“I don’t—” I saw his serious face and shut up.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting. I swallowed my protest and nodded.