His Heartwarming Secret

I snap my head up, meeting Beatrice's burning gaze. She appears amused yet it's so clear in her eyes that she's lying intentionally to snitch on me. I feel my throat tighten, my breathing becoming restricted. The rest of the class are now glancing between Beatrice and I, waiting for the explosion to happen.

Will I stand up for myself or will Beatrice win as she usually does?

"Is Beatrice telling the truth?" The teacher sighs, her hand still outstretched ready for my phone. Beatrice is challenging me with her narrow beady eyes, waiting to see whether I'll stick up for myself or not. I tear my eyes away from her, squaring my shoulders up bravely. I won't let her win.

"No I wasn't texting, I'm aware of the rules. I was checking the time, I swear."

I can practically see Beatrice seeping with anger from the corner of my eyes but I will myself to keep my back turned on her. The teacher glances between Beatrice and I one last time before she sighs and drops her hand.

"Very well but if I catch a glimpse of it again, I will confiscate it Bella."

her know I understand. At least she knows my name now . . . I slump back in my chair in relief, grateful to have the attention diverted away from me. I spend the remaining part of the lesson trying to

*****

my bag. As usual I wait a little longer before leaving the classroom so the students

keeping me trapped. From the look on

glaring at me all day." She hisses, closing the space between

"I d-don't have a problem with you. Can't you just leave me alone?" I whisper, hating the way my voice became so mouse-like around her. Her lips curl up into a sneer and she takes another

the hell do you think you're

feel myself beginning to shake in fear, I hate confrontation. Beatrice continues to take steps towards me until I'm cornered between the wall and a locker. I have nowhere to go. Being confined in small spaces limits the amount

trembling. I don't want to have a panic attack in front of Beatrice and her

god, you're disgusting!" She teases, holding her nose and wafting the air in front of her. Multiple students pass us and choose not to help despite

"It's a different hoody." I answer her, my eyes glued to the floor. My hands begin to tremble by my side and I force myself to remain

giggling at her own joke. Her friends on either side of me burst into laughter on cue and I feel fresh tears prick the back of my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to block out their laughter. It doesn't work and the sound