My brother stood there like a hero—but not for me.
Before I could stop myself, I shoved my chair back and stormed out of the classroom. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't stop. I didn't know where I was going.
All I knew was I couldn't bear it anymore.
That boy named Angus.
And Charlie.
Especially Ginny!
It didn't take long for my parents to receive my teacher's report that I'd skipped the first day of class.
I stumbled through the door, my palms and knees raw from falling in the dirt, my clothes torn and streaked with mud.
I tried to sneak past them, but Dad was already sitting on the couch. His arms crossed, and a heavy frown was on his face.
"Why did you skip class?" His voice was flat, but there was an edge to it.
I opened my mouth. I was prepared to explain everything. But before I could get a single word out, Charlie jumped in, grinning like he'd been waiting for this moment.
"Oh, she's just mad 'cause everyone likes Ginny more," he said, a smug grin spreading across his face.
He stuck his tongue out at me like he always did when he thought I was a loser. "Such a little brat!"
"No! That's not— I didn't—" I stammered, my words tangled in my throat, desperate to make them understand.
But then Dad slammed his hand down on the coffee table with a crack that made me jump.
"Go to the attic and think about what you've done!" he shouted, his face red with anger.
My heart raced, and my eyes darted to Mom, hoping she'd say something and step in like she usually did when things got bad.
She glanced at my scraped knees, her face softening for a split second. I thought maybe—just maybe—she'd defend me.
But then Dad's voice cut through the room like a whip. "Do not interfere, Irine! She needs to learn a lesson!"
Before I knew it, his hand was wrapped around my arm, yanking me up the stairs. I stumbled behind him, trying to keep my balance, my legs shaky from the pain and fear.
"I am Henry Franklin! I will not tolerate a child who is petty and selfish!"
His words sliced through me harder than anything Charlie had ever said.
Dad shoved me into the attic. And then the door slammed shut behind me with a hollow thud. He left me alone in that dark, suffocating, damp space.
The silence was eerie and deafening. I crumpled to the floor, feeling the sting of my scraped palms and the ache in my heart.