By the time lunch rolled around, the weight of the morning had already settled into my bones like cement.
I sat at the farthest corner of the cafeteria, the noise around me muffled by the whirlwind in my head. My food sat untouched on the tray, and I kept my eyes on the table, tracing invisible shapes with my finger. I was trying to disappear.
And then I saw them — Chloe's bouncing blonde curls first, then Peter's tall, anxious silhouette scanning the cafeteria.
The moment Chloe spotted me, she practically ran. "Emma!" she called, her voice a little too loud. Her tray clattered against the table as she sat next to me. Peter followed a few steps behind, his expression unreadable. His hazel eyes locked with mine, but I quickly looked away.
"Hey," Chloe said gently. "Why didn't you tell us you were sitting alone?"
I forced a smile. "I just needed… some space. You guys were busy. It's fine."
Peter frowned. "We were looking for you. I texted. Called. You didn't reply."
I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. "Just wanted to be alone for a bit. No big deal."
But the lie tasted like rust on my tongue.
Chloe narrowed her eyes. "Emma… something's off. What happened?"
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Seriously. Just first-day nerves."
Peter sat down across from me, his tray still in his hands. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, gaze locked on me. "Emma, we know you. You're not fine."
Before I could fumble for another lie, a chair scraped behind us.
Edward.
He looked hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped closer. "Can I… talk to you guys for a second?"
My heart sank.
"Sure," Chloe said slowly. "What's up?"
Edward looked at me, and for a second, he hesitated. I silently begged him not to say anything, my eyes pleading with him.
But he sighed and turned toward Peter and Chloe. "Emma's lying. She was bullied this morning. Pretty bad. A whole group cornered her."
"What?!" Chloe almost yelled, slamming her hand on the table. Her expression shifted instantly — from confusion to fury. "By who?"
Peter stood up, his eyes flashing. "Why didn't you tell us?"
I panicked. "Because it wasn't a big deal!" I snapped. "I didn't want to make it a thing!"
Peter shook his head, stepping back. "It was a big deal, Emma. How could you keep something like that from us?"
"Because I didn't want you to look at me like I'm some fragile glass doll!" My voice cracked. "Because the second I admit I'm not okay, you all start treating me like I'm going to break. And I hate it!"
Peter's face hardened, pain flickering behind his eyes. "We're not treating you like you'll break. We're trying to be there for you. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Not like this!" I shouted. "Not out of pity!"
The entire cafeteria went quiet. People turned. I realized my voice had carried too far.
Peter stared at me. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.
I wanted to call out. I wanted to tell him I didn't mean it.
But the words froze in my throat.
Chloe looked between us, clearly torn. She started to say something but paused, then chased after Peter.
Edward sat beside me quietly. He didn't speak. He didn't have to.
I felt hollow.
Later That Day
The school day dragged on like slow poison. I barely heard anything the teachers said. My mind was replaying Peter's expression over and over again — the hurt in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched before he walked away.
I hated myself.
When the final bell rang, I walked out slowly, trying to gather the courage to face whatever fallout was waiting for me.
I found Peter leaning against the side wall of the building, arms crossed, looking like he'd been waiting for hours.
I stopped a few feet away.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
He didn't say anything.
"I just didn't want to seem weak," I continued, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want you to think of me like some helpless, broken thing."
Peter looked at me, finally speaking. "Emma, you think I don't know how strong you are? You've survived things that would destroy most people. But being strong doesn't mean you have to suffer alone."
I blinked back tears. "I've just been so scared. Of everything. Of who I'm becoming. Of what's happening to me."
He stepped closer. "Then let me be scared with you."
That undid me.
I broke. The tears came, fast and silent, and before I knew it, I was in his arms.
Peter held me tighter than he ever had before. There was no awkwardness. No hesitation. Just warmth. Steady, grounding warmth.
"I don't care how many times you push me away," he murmured into my hair. "I'm not going anywhere."
I looked up at him, tear-streaked and vulnerable. "Promise?"
His smile was soft and sincere. "Always."
The sun was dipping low, painting the schoolyard in a sleepy orange as the final bell echoed across the campus. Most students had already scattered, laughing in groups or dragging their heavy backpacks toward the gates. I just wanted to melt into the shadows and disappear. My day had already been a disaster—and then came the sound of raised voices.
I turned my head just in time to see Peter. His fists clenched. His jaw tight. He stood face-to-face with three of the boys who had cornered me earlier.
"Say it again," Peter growled, stepping forward.
"Chill, man. We were just kidding," said a lanky boy with floppy brown hair and a smirk that deserved a slap.
"Kidding?" Peter's voice was low, dangerous. "Cornering her. Threatening her. Making her cry. That's your idea of a joke?"
The other boy, the one with the buzz cut, laughed. "Look, we didn't hurt her. She's just—too sensitive or something. It's not our fault she freaks out."
Before the guy could finish that sentence, Peter shoved him hard, catching him off guard. The boy stumbled back, nearly tripping over the sidewalk curb.
"You don't ever touch her. Or talk about her. Or breathe near her. Got it?" Peter's voice was venomous. "You want to pick on someone? Pick me. Right here."
Buzz-cut guy straightened up, rage flickering in his eyes. "What, you think you're some knight or something? Defending the crazy girl?"
Peter didn't flinch. "She's ten times better than you'll ever be."
That was it. Buzz-cut lunged.
What happened next was a blur. Fists flew. Shouts erupted. Students started gathering around. I screamed, trying to get closer, but someone pulled me back.
"Peter, stop!" I shouted.
But he didn't. He was furious, wild, protecting me like it was a matter of life and death.
"Emma!" someone yelled behind me.
I turned. Liam was sprinting across the parking lot, his keys in hand, concern splashed across his face.
In one clean move, he grabbed me gently by the arm and pulled me aside, shielding me from the chaos. "What the hell happened?" he asked.
"They… those boys… they bullied me earlier. Peter found out. He lost it."
Liam's jaw clenched, and he turned to glance at the fight, which was now being broken up by a teacher and Edward.
After arguments, when it was broken up. Peter didn't look at me because he didn't want me to look at his bruised face. He just went and Chloe too went to her home earlier as her father picked her up.
"Come on," Liam said softly, leading me toward his car. "Let's get you out of here."
---
Car Ride — Liam & Emma
The engine hummed as the car rolled out of the school lot. I sat in silence for a while, staring out the window. Liam didn't push me.
He let the silence sit.
Until I broke it.
"I didn't want Peter to find out," I said finally.
"I figured." He glanced at me. "But why?"
"I didn't want him to look at me like I'm some victim. Like I need to be protected all the time."
"You're allowed to be protected, Emma," Liam replied, tone calm. "You're not weak for needing people."
I looked down at my lap. "It's just… people always leave when they realize I'm not easy to deal with. I don't want to scare him away."
Liam's eyes stayed on the road, but his voice was firm. "Peter isn't going anywhere. You should've seen him back there. He was ready to get suspended over you."
My heart stung with guilt and warmth at the same time.
"I never wanted any of this," I whispered.
"I know."
He reached over and gently placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You're doing better than you think."
We pulled up in front of my house. I exhaled slowly, like I'd been holding my breath all day.
This is the day I am going to see, if I can live in my room, my house anymore. Does it ignite the Amelia inside me or makes me scared.
Let's see how it goes.
Liam turned off the engine and looked at me. "Hey. Tomorrow's a new day. You'll be okay."
I nodded. "Thanks… for picking me up."
"Anytime."
Later That Night — Emma's Diary
Dear Diary,
Today was a mess. A real, tangled-up, chaotic mess.
I walked into school with fake confidence and a fluttering heart. I was so sure I could handle it. But I wasn't ready—not for the stares, not for the whispers, and definitely not for the cruelty. They laughed. They teased. They called me names I won't even write down because I want to pretend they didn't happen.
The worst part?
I said nothing.
I froze.
And then Peter… he found out.
He fought for me. Like, actually fought. With fists and rage and that wild look in his eyes like I meant something. Like he couldn't bear to see me hurt. He stood up for me in a way I never even asked him to. Maybe that's what love is, or maybe it's just Peter being Peter. But it made me cry. Not because I was scared. But because I felt seen. Like someone actually got it.
Chloe and Edward, too. They care. They really do.
And Liam... he was calm in the chaos. Picked me up. Let me breathe. Let me speak. No pressure. No expectations. Just... there.
But the worst part of it all?
I lied to them. Again. I pretended I was fine. Even though I was breaking.
Why do I keep doing that?
Maybe tomorrow I'll try honesty.
Maybe.
If I'm brave enough.
But for now, all I can do is rest, let Peter's words echo in my head, and hope that somewhere in this tangled mess of a life… I'll figure out who I'm meant to be.
Until then...
Goodnight, Diary.
Love,
Emma.