"Well, well—Baggy Julia."Ashly and her little pack cornered me at the far end of the classroom.
The nickname came from my clothes. I always wore baggy stuff. Oversized hoodies, loose jeans—anything to disappear a little.
"Didn't we tell you to stay away from David?" Ashly sneered. "And yet you keep sticking to him."
"You think he likes you or something?" She laughed cruelly. "You're just a charity case to him."
"Or maybe," Rose chimed in, grinning, "he's doing a bet with his friends—seeing who can fuck the biggest loser."
Ashly tilted her head. "So? Did he fuck you yet, little whore?"
Honestly, this felt like one of those cliché movie scenes—the unpopular girl getting bullied by the popular girls because the hottest guy in school is supposedly into her.
Except there was a major difference.
The popular boy hadn't just friend-zoned me.He sister-zoned me.
God, I was so tired of this.I'm going to kill David. I swear to God.
"How many times do I have to say it?" I replied flatly, bored more than scared.
"David and I are just friends." That's when Ashly snapped.
She lunged forward and slammed me against the wall, her hands wrapping around my neck. Her grip tightened, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.
"Listen, you little whore," she hissed.
"You're going to stay away from him. Stop deluding yourself into thinking he'd ever love you. Who would love a loser like you? You don't belong beside him—so get lost."
Which was funny, honestly.If she was so sure he'd never love me, then why was she this angry?
Ugh. Girls.
I clawed at her wrists, desperate for air. She held me there for a few seconds longer—just long enough to make a point—then shoved me away.
I collapsed, coughing and gasping.
Before I could recover, she grabbed my hair and dragged me toward the supply closet.
She shoved me inside, slammed the door shut, and locked it.
The space was tiny. Narrow. Dark.My chest tightened instantly.
I had a phobia of enclosed spaces.
I banged on the door, screaming for them to open it, but all I heard was laughter fading down the hall. Then silence.My breaths came faster. Too fast.
The walls felt like they were closing in.
Phone. Phone. Phone.
My hands were shaking as I pulled it out and called David.
"Hey, Julies," he answered cheerfully.
"Where are you? I've been waiting for like ten minutes."
"David," I gasped.
"Please—please hurry. I'm locked in the closet in our classroom. I can't breathe."
"Oh my God," he said immediately.
I could hear him moving—running. "I'm coming right now."
The panic worsened. I pushed against the walls, squirming, trying to make space—when suddenly a sharp pain tore through my arm.
"Ow—what the hell—"A nail. Rusty and sticking out.The cut wasn't deep, but blood started dripping down my forearm.
I slid down the wall, crying, my breaths shallow and uneven.Then—light.The door flew open.
David stood there, panting, his face pale and terrified.I didn't even think.
I launched myself into his arms and completely broke down.
He wrapped his arms around me tightly, murmuring reassurances, telling me I was safe, over and over.We stayed like that until I finally calmed down.
"Who did this to you, Julia?" he asked quietly. His voice was controlled—but I could hear the rage underneath.
I pulled back and looked at him, then suddenly started hitting his chest with my fists."It's your fault!" I yelled.
"Why don't you just make it official that you're dating Emily? They keep coming after me because they think I'm your girlfriend!"
"Who thinks that?" he asked, stunned.
"Who else? Ashly and her fucking gang!"
"Hey, hey—calm down," he said quickly.
"I'm sorry, okay? I'll make it up to you. I promise.
I'll deal with them. No one messes with my sister."
"Don't," I snapped.
"Just—don't do anything. The more you show them I matter to you, the worse it gets. I'm sick of it."
His expression shifted instantly. "What are you saying? You don't want us to be friends anymore?"
"What? No," I said quickly.
"Don't be stupid. Just make it official with Emily. I don't get why you two are hiding it."
"...Okay," he said after a pause. "Soon. I promise. Come on—let's go home."
He took my hand, and I winced.
"What's wrong?" he started—then noticed the blood soaking my sleeve.
"What the fuck?!" He yanked my sleeve up.
"I'm going to kill those fucking bitches."
"They didn't do it," I said quickly. "I cut myself on a nail in the closet."
He ignored me and dragged me straight to the infirmary. It was empty.
He sat me down and cleaned the wound in silence, his jaw tight, a deep frown etched between his brows. He slapped a bandage on it and stood up."Come on," he said. "Let's go."
We walked quietly.
"David," I muttered, "you're being weird. You're freaking me out."
"This is my fault," he said. "You got hurt because of me. I'm sorry."
"Oh my God, stop," I scoffed.
"I panicked and cut myself. Yes, they're after me because of you—but seriously, why do you have to be so handsome and popular, huh?"
That got a smile out of him."So I'm handsome?" he smirked.
The more you get to know David, the more you see the childish side he works so hard to hide.
"Ugh, I hate you," I said, smacking his shoulder.
"Haha—no, you love me." Then he sobered again.
"I just don't get why they keep bothering you. Everyone knows I cherish you like a sister."Yeah.
It had been over a year since he sister-zoned me. I'd tried to move on.But it still stung.
"I don't know," I sighed. "They're idiots. What can you do?"
We reached his house.
"Alright, Mr. Popular," I said. "See you tomorrow."He hugged me tightly and whispered, "I'm really lucky to have you in my life, Julies."
Then he kissed my cheek.
I froze like an idiot, smiled stupidly, and watched him walk toward his house.Ugh, David Becker... you are going to be the end of me.