Earth to Scarlet
The last bell rings, and I can’t get out of class fast enough. It’s not that I hate school or anything. I actually like some of my classes. But right now, all I want is to be home, away from the noise, where I can hang out with my brother and my sister.
I make my way to my locker, weaving through the crowded hallways. As I fumble with the combination lock, I feel it—this creeping awareness that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.
Valentine Randell.
Of course, he’s here, swaggering down the hallway like he owns the place. My heart rate picks up as I sense him getting closer. I keep my eyes locked on my locker, silently begging him to just pass by and leave me alone.
No such luck.
Valentine stops right next to me, leaning casually against the lockers like he’s got all the time in the world. He crosses his arms over his chest, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he watches me with those piercing blue eyes.
“What’s up, Scarlet the Timid?” he drawls, his voice low and teasing.
My cheeks heat up, and I force myself to focus on the stupid lock. Just ignore him, I tell myself. He’ll get bored eventually.
“What’s the rush, sweetheart? Got a hot date with your textbooks tonight?” His arrogance practically oozes out of him, filling the space between us.
I finally manage to open my locker, my fingers trembling as I grab my books. Why does he always single me out? It’s like he can sense my discomfort and feeds off it.
Valentine leans in closer, his breath brushing against my ear. “Hey, Scar. I’ve got a question for you. How come you’re always alone? Don’t you ever get tired of being such a loner?”
I tighten my grip on my books, trying to steady my breathing. Don’t let him get to you. He’s just messing with you.
“What’s the matter?” Valentine presses, his voice dripping with fake concern. “Cat got your tongue? Or do you just not know how to talk to people?”
His words cut deeper than I expected, catching me off guard. I wasn’t ready for him to be this direct. My heart pounds, and all I want to do is escape.
Without looking at him, I slam my locker shut and turn to leave, hoping he’ll let it go. But of course, he doesn’t. He easily keeps pace with me, his voice following me like a shadow.
“Come on, Scar. Don’t be shy. I bet if you actually opened your mouth, you might surprise us all.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, his grin downright suggestive. “Maybe you’re hiding some secret talents behind those tight lips of yours?”
My cheeks burn at the crude implication, and I quicken my steps, trying to outrun his words.
“Or maybe,” he continues, sounding almost thoughtful, “you’re just too good for the rest of us? Little Miss Perfect, all alone in her own little world.”
I can feel my frustration building, a knot tightening in my chest. Part of me wants to whirl around and tell him exactly where to shove his comments. But the other part, the part that’s kept me unnoticed and safe for so long, screams at me to stay quiet. Don’t make waves. Don’t draw attention.
“Earth to Scarlet,” Valentine says, his voice grating on my nerves. “You in there? Or are you too busy daydreaming about your imaginary friends?”
I bite my lip, torn between the instinct to blend in and the growing urge to stand up for myself. I’ve spent so long fading into the background, but if I don’t say something now, he’ll never stop.
Without thinking, I spin around, my eyes blazing with a fire that even surprises me. “Enough,” I say, my voice steady, though my heart is racing.
Valentine’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but I don’t give him a chance to speak.
“I don’t know why you feel the need to constantly harass me, Valentine, but it ends now,” I continue, my tone calm but firm. “My silence doesn’t make me weak, and it definitely doesn’t give you the right to bully me. I choose to keep to myself, and that’s none of your business.”
For a second, he looks genuinely shocked, his usual smirk gone. The hallway feels unnaturally quiet as if even the distant chatter of students has faded into the background.
“Well, well,” Valentine finally says, though his voice lacks its usual confidence. “Look who finally grew a backbone.”
I see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, and it feels strangely satisfying. I’ve caught him off guard, and he’s scrambling to regain control.
He pushes himself off the lockers and takes a step closer, his expression darkening. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he snaps, his words dripping with venom. “One little outburst, and suddenly you’re not such a pushover anymore?”
I stand my ground, refusing to back down. “What’s wrong, Valentine?” I ask, my voice steady despite the adrenaline rushing through me. “Can’t handle it when someone stands up to you?”
His face twists with anger. “You think you’re better than everyone else, hiding behind your books and your silence. But deep down, you’re just scared. Scared of living. Scared of feeling something real.”
Okay, maybe he’s not wrong. But that still doesn’t give him the right to talk to me like this.
I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fight to keep my composure.
“You don’t know me,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.
Valentine sneers, leaning in close enough that I can feel his breath. “Hit a nerve, did I? Face it, Scar. You’re nothing but a—”
His words are cut off by a group of students rounding the corner, their laughter echoing through the hallway. My eyes dart to them, and I seize the opportunity to escape.
“I… I have to go home. Just leave me alone,” I say quickly, pushing past him and heading for the exit as fast as I can.
Valentine’s voice follows me, taunting. “Let’s pick this up again tomorrow, Scar.”
I don’t look back. I push through the double doors and into the cool afternoon air, my heart still racing. I can’t believe I actually stood up to him. Sure, my voice wavered at the end, but at least I said something.
It’s not much, but it’s a start.
I take a deep breath and head toward the car waiting for me, relief washing over me as I finally make it home.
Thank god.
