Just a little respect, Brad sneered. Say, five bucks a day for protection. You know, in a new school, all sorts of things can happen to a lonely girl.
Emily slowly took in their faces. In Brad’s eyes was the predator’s certainty that the prey wouldn’t fight back. Kyle was smirking, savoring the show.
Jake was just waiting for her to break. I need to think about it, she finally said. Of course.
Brad magnanimously allowed. You’ve got until tomorrow. Oh, and Emily.
He leaned closer, his breath hot on her face. Don’t even think about snitching. The teachers here love us.
My dad sponsors the football team. When they left, Emily sat for a few more minutes. Her fists clenched beneath the table.
She could have ended it right then. One precise punch and Brad would have spent the rest of the day in the nurse’s office. But the promise she’d made to her mother held her back.
After school, she walked home, her mind racing. Five dollars a day was one hundred fifty dollars a month, over a thousand for the whole year. And that was just the beginning.
She knew boys like Brad. Give in now and it would only get worse. At home, her mother was already making dinner.
Dr. Sarah Harris looked exhausted after her first day at the new job, but she still smiled at her daughter. How was school, sweetheart? It was fine, Emily lied. Just a normal first day.
Make any friends? Too soon to tell. Her mother looked at her carefully. Over the years, they’d learned to read each other without words, and Sarah sensed something wasn’t right.
If there are problems, it’s okay, mom. Really. But that night, Emily couldn’t sleep.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, seeing Brad’s face in her mind’s eye. His cocky smile, the smug look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. In Detroit, she would have already handled this.
Everyone there knew not to mess with Emily Harris. But here, she was just the quiet new girl who didn’t want any trouble. The next morning, on Tuesday, things escalated.
Emily had barely stepped inside the school when Brad and his friends intercepted her at the stairwell. Well, have you thought it over? he asked, getting straight to the point. I’m not paying you, Emily said firmly.
The smile slid from Brad’s face. What did you say? I said no. For a few seconds, they stared at each other.
Then Brad laughed, but it was a cold, joyless sound. You know what, sweetheart? I hoped you’d be smart about this, he shrugged. But if you want to play hero… What happened next was a waking nightmare for Emily.
Brad and his friends seemed to declare open season on her. Between classes, they found ways to make her life miserable. In first period chemistry, Kyle accidentally shoved her, sending all her notes flying.
When she bent to pick them up, he stepped on her notebook with his dirty boot. Oops, he smirked. Sorry about that.
Between second and third periods, Jake slammed her into a wall, hard enough to make her shoulder throb with pain. She just clenched her teeth. Watch where you’re going, he barked as he walked off.
By lunch, things reached a boiling point. Emily was sitting at the same table as the day before when Brad approached again, this time with half the football team in tow. Word has it, he announced loudly, making sure everyone nearby heard, that the new girl doesn’t want to respect our traditions, thinks she’s too good for our rules.
Conversations at neighboring tables hushed. Everyone turned to watch. Brad, please, Emily said quietly.
I just want to get through school in peace. And I just want you to understand your place, he leaned down closer to her. See, when someone ignores my requests, it makes me look bad.
He picked up her plate and slowly dumped the contents in her lap. Hot soup soaked her jeans and vegetable chunks splattered on the floor. Oh no, what a mess, Brad feigned concern.
The cafeteria erupted in laughter. Someone even started filming it on their phone. Emily sat there, unmoving, feeling the soup seeping through her clothes.
Inside her, a storm was brewing, cold and controlled, but no less dangerous. What are you waiting for? Brad sneered. Clean it up.
Emily stood up slowly. Soup dripped from her jeans, leaving dark stains on the floor. The laughter around her grew louder, but she didn’t hear it.
She was staring at Brad. You just made a big mistake, she said. Her voice was quiet, but it sliced through the noise like a blade.
And what are you going to do about it, he laughed. Run to the principal? Call your mommy? Emily didn’t answer. She just grabbed her backpack and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving behind puddles of soup and peels of laughter.
In the bathroom, she tried to scrub the stains out, but it was no use. Her hands were shaking, not from fear, but from the rage she was barely holding back. Four years of training had taught her to channel her aggression, to use it wisely, but today, that control was slipping.
She pulled out her phone and dialed the number of her old coach back in Detroit. Master Johnson, this is Emily Harris. Emily? How’s the new school? Not so great.