The weeks started to pass. Each day blended into the next, and nothing ever changed. I hated it, but I learned to deal with it. For the most part, I left people alone and they left me alone. When the kids at school did tease me, they were never too outwardly aggressive. They mocked me from a distance. I ignored it as best I could. I kept my head down, I did my work, and I never cried. At least, not in school.
I always managed to save my tears until I was locked in my bedroom. I’d get it out of my system, and then I would e-mail Cinder. He’d tell me some ridiculous story, or say something completely moronic about a book or a movie, and I’d be compelled to argue. Either way, he always made everything okay.
Cinder asked about my accident, and my mom, and living with my new family occasionally. I knew he was worried about me, but I just couldn’t talk about it with him. He was my ray of sunshine. He was the only thing that kept me sane. I couldn’t do anything to change that. When he asked, I told him I was doing okay, and that was it. He never pushed for more. When I said I didn’t want to talk about sad topics, he said okay and then distracted me with things he knew would make me laugh.
He also talked me into blogging again. I’d watched that Brian Oliver movie he told me about and was pleasantly surprised. Cinder had been right. There was more to Brian Oliver than a pretty face. He had some depth, and there was a possibility—a slight possibility—that he might be able to save The Druid Price from being total Hollywood crap. When I sent Cinder my review, he’d liked it so much he insisted I post it. It took some coaxing, but eventually I did. After that, writing other reviews was easy. My followers welcomed me back with open arms, and another tiny piece of my broken heart fused back together.
The first time a box of books arrived at my house from a publisher, I was forced to explain myself to my father. He’d been relieved that I had a hobby besides hiding in my room. He went straight out and got me a set of bookshelves filled with books, and a new e-reader. He even got me on some kind of press list so that I could go to media screenings of movies for free. I still didn’t like the guy, but even I could admit that was cool of him.
Between my blog and Cinder, life had become somewhat bearable. Time passed this way until Halloween, and then my world took another spin. I was in my second class of the day and my teacher, Mrs. Teague, gave us the last ten minutes of class as free time. It wasn’t a minute after I pulled out a book that I felt someone looming over my shoulder.
Jason Malone, one of Anastasia’s on-again off-again playthings, was smiling down at me. “What’s up, Ella?” he asked when I’d finally given in and looked at him.
“Nothing.” I knew this wasn’t a friendly gesture. Jason had been one of my most obnoxious torturers this year. “What do you want?”
He laughed and stepped up to the side of my desk. “I was just wondering what you were doing for Halloween tonight. Are you planning on going to the dance?”
“No.”
I turned my attention back to my book, hoping he would leave. He, of course, didn’t. “Bummer,” he said. “They’re having this contest to see who can come as the most horrifying monster. Your sister thinks you could win.”
I knew where this was going, so I didn’t play into his game. I simply said, “She’s not my sister.”
“She said you wouldn’t even need a costume. She said you could come in shorts and a tank top and they would just hand you the crown. She said people would run screaming at the sight of you.”
“Yeah, that sounds like her.”
I scanned the room to check the time and saw Juliette sitting a few seats over, watching Jason and me with a scowl on her face. I met her eyes and she quickly looked away, trying her best to pretend I didn’t exist.
I wasn’t surprised that she wouldn’t make Jason stop, even though she was the only girl in the class that probably could have. She and I had two different classes together, and she’d watched me take this kind of harassment all year without ever saying anything. But at least she wasn’t standing over Jason’s shoulder, giggling and egging him on the way Anastasia would have if she were here.
Class was almost over now, thankfully, so I reached for my backpack. I guess Jason didn’t like the fact that he hadn’t upset me, because he took the book out of my hands before I could slip it in my bag.
“I’m curious, Ella. Are you really as hideous as she says you are?”
“Give me my book back.”
“You want it? Show me your scars.”
I’d become a pro at not reacting to the things people say, but that was so shocking that I gasped. “Excuse me?”
Jason smirked, excited to see that he’d finally hit a nerve. “You always wear those long-sleeve shirts and tights. The whole school knows what you’re trying to cover up. Just let me see. I promise not to run screaming.” He laughed. “Unless it’s true.”
I chose to get angry because when I was mad it was a lot easier to control my tears, and I would not cry in front of this jerk. “Go to hell.” My voice quivered, but it didn’t break.
“Is that where you went to get those burns? Why’d they send you back? Are you such a freak that even hell didn’t want you?”
My whole body started to shake. I had to lay my bad hand flat on my desk to keep from balling it into a fist and hurting myself. Jason watched the action and then said, “Come on, Ella, let’s see it.”
He reached out, quick as a flash, and yanked my arm up, reaching to push up my sleeve. He didn’t pull that hard. It never would have hurt a normal person, but I’d never regained full movement in my right arm. I wasn’t capable of fully extending it. When Jason jerked it, I felt the skin tear near my elbow.
I screamed as fire shot up my arm and through my whole body. Jason dropped me as if he’d caught fire from me. I clamped my good hand over my arm, but it didn’t stop the pain. For the first time since I started school, I cried in front of my classmates.
Juliette reached Jason and me at the same time as Mrs. Teague did. I saw the rage in Juliette’s eyes, but was in too much pain to be shocked when she pulled Jason away from me and screamed at him. “You stupid asshole!”
“What is going on here?” Mrs. Teague demanded.
Juliette shoved Jason and Mrs. Teague out of the way and knelt down beside my desk. “Are you all right?”
“No.” I lifted my hand off my arm and showed her the bright red stains seeping through my white turtleneck. “He tore the skin graft.”
Juliette swore.
Jason looked as if he were about to faint, and the rest of the class was freaking out. Even Mrs. Teague gaped down at me with wide, panicked eyes. Only Juliette never lost her cool. “We need to call your nurse. Where’s your phone?”
“Backpack,” I gasped. “School nurse should have pain meds. It really hurts.”
Juliette nodded. “Come on.” She helped me out of my chair. Instead of handing me my cane, she pulled my good arm over her shoulders.
Mrs. Teague picked up our backpacks and my cane. “I’ll take this stuff to the office,” she said, and then snapped her fingers at Jason. “You, come with me now!”