I stared into the shards of my mirror, eyes looking hollow. How would I go on like this? The distress I'd felt the night before was replaced by this empty feeling of nothing – and that was more frightening than the pain and panic.
But it was Monday now, and I had to go face the day. I really didn't have much of a choice, my parents had only booked more appointments with that horrid doctor because I'd promised not to skip any classes or pull another running away stunt. And I'd agreed, like a good little child.
A sigh. I turned my fist over under the dim light in my bathroom. It looked horrible, like I'd stuck it in a meat grinder. The bruises around my knuckles had been made worse by my wrapping, the bandages too tight, too constricting. It felt good to feel that pain when I clenched my hand, to feel the numbness creeping into my fingertips.
My mother called up the stairs, and I started. Right. School.
The very last person I wanted to see stood at my locker when I finally made it to school. His bulk was turned away from me, so I almost had the chance to get away, but then Link was there too. Fuck. The blond smiled at me, waved, then stopped short when he saw who was at my locker. It caught his attention, and that walking refrigerator turned and grinned at me.
My heart pounded all too loudly in my ears. No.
I turned and ran. It wasn't my smartest idea, but I couldn't think of an alternative. I sought shelter in a bathroom around the corner, locking myself in a stall and putting my feet up. Hiding. I was always hiding. What the hell was wrong with me?
I waited for a few minutes while blood roared in my ears and the world spun. The first bell rung, and the halls seemed to come to life, the crush of bodies as noisy as a waterfall. For a few gut-wrenching moments, I thought I heard my name being called, but I wasn't sure who was calling me. Link or Ganondorf, it didn't matter. I couldn't do this.
The second bell pealed and the noise died. Inside, I panicked. I had promised not to skip class, my future doctor's appointments depended on my attendance. But I couldn't bring myself to leave, to hustle off like a good student, ignoring my gut.
I just couldn't jeopardize the chance I had to getting a diagnosis. I needed it, I needed to start hormones – I just wanted to be normal!
I gave myself five minutes. Surely, my parents wouldn't get mad about five minutes. I'd say I got sick and had to throw up. That was all it took. Breathing deeply, I finally unlocked the door. I had never been in this particular bathroom, and it felt ... Off. I wasn't sure why, but as I washed my hands and prepared to leave, it hit me.
I'd defaulted into the girl's washroom.
The world spun as I nearly threw myself out. Oh god, had I really done that? It felt like the world was crashing down on me. It didn't help that as I stumbled through the doorway, I ran smack into the big hulking prick I'd fought with on Friday.
He caught me before I could fall on my ass. What a gentleman.
"Let me go," I snarled, aiming a kick at his shin. I was lashing out, but I didn't care. I needed to leave. I had to get away from here. I wasn't safe with him now that he knew – he would use it against me, I knew that. He was the type.
"Whoa," he said with a chuckle, holding me at arms' length but not releasing my shoulders. The grin on his face was awful. It was knowing. "Calm down, pipsqueak! You'll get us both in trouble."
"Fuck off!" I tore myself from his grasp, his fingers scrambling for purchase as I slid away from him. I felt the fabric give a little, and my eyes swam with tears as I tripped and sat down, hard. This day was starting off wonderfully already.
He offered a hand, eyebrow quirked. When I didn't take it, he hauled my up by the straps of my backpack and dragged me into the boy's washroom. I struggled, but it was a weak effort. If he was going to beat the shit out of me, I deserved it.
"The hell is your problem?" he snarled once we were alone. He shoved me into the counter, standing with his feet planted and arms crossed, blocking my exit. Clearly, he'd done this before. "I'm not here to kick your puny little ass, girl."
Spinning on my heel, I just about decked him. I wanted to. I wanted to scream at him. But I didn't. "I'm not a girl." My voice was a lot more level than I expected it to be, and it took him off guard. Good.
"Your boobs say otherwise."
"Oh, piss off, you bigot."
"Ooh, big words." Ganondorf raised his hands and I flinched, expecting a blow. Quickly, he put them down, frowning. "Look. I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to talk today, yeah?"
This was new. Since when did bullies have a heart? "Yeah right," I scoffed. I wanted to fight, fighting was easier.
"Don't be an asshole, just hear me out. I'm keeping your little secret from my friends." He grinned, and my heart sank. He must have seen it on my face, because he leaned in close. "You're pretty smart. I bet you can guess what I've got in mind, yeah?"
"Blackmail," my voice cracked. Oh shit, not this. Not now.
He nodded, placing one hand on either side of me, trapping me against the counter. He got too close, pressing against me. Oh god, no! I didn't try to hide my horror as I leaned backwards, trying to escape him. He looked pleased with himself, and I could see he was enjoying my raw fear.
"Close enough." His breath was putrid. "Give me your number."
"No," I turned my head away, voice trembling. One hand slipped around my waist and I felt bile rising in my throat. "Don't touch me." It was a weak protest. I was too scared to even lash out at the touch. This just could not be happening.
"All I'm asking for is your number, but if I have to I'll take a favour from you right now if you'd prefer." His hand slid up my shirt, making my skin crawl. I grabbed his wrist, but I wasn't strong enough to stop him, and we both knew that. Nonetheless, he didn't push any further, our eyes locking. He was dead serious. So was I.
I jerked my knee upward as he shifted, opening himself up to attack. Nothing happened. In fact, he laughed.
"I'm wearing a cup, moron."
His fingers closed around my throat, and I jabbed my palm at his face, aiming for his nose. I missed, getting him in the eye, but his fingers didn't release me. They weren't quite choking me either. He lifted me slightly, pushing me awkwardly against the mirror and pinning my legs between his own as my fingers scratched his own, trying to pry myself free.
"It really isn't that hard," he growled. His free hand groped at my front pockets until he found my phone. With one hand still around my neck, threatening to crush my windpipe every time I so much as twitched, he retrieved it. Flipped it open, played with the buttons for a moment, then folded it up and put it back.
His own phone buzzed in his pocket as he released me, backing off as I doubled over to cough and splutter. The world was spinning, but I felt a sense of relief. Maybe my number really was all he wanted for now – I didn't dare think of what he might do with it. My phone rung moments later, and even without looking I knew it was from him.
"Fuck you," I spat hoarsely.
"You'd enjoy that too much, you whore," he threw back, leaving me on the floor. His laugh echoed on the walls, even long after he'd left.
I couldn't bring myself to get up and leave for at least ten minutes. When I did, my phone rung again. Setting it on silent and ignoring the texts, I headed to my first class as if nothing had happened. Inside, I wanted nothing more than to just die.