Chapter Twenty-Nine: Standing Tall
(Lyra's POV)
November 27th. Somehow, the day felt heavier than usual. My sketchbook was open in front of me, but my hands were trembling. Maybe… maybe he doesn't even like me. Maybe I'm just imagining everything. Maybe all the teasing, the fluster, the little stolen looks… it doesn't mean anything.
I buried my face in my hands, trying to focus on shading, on colors, on lines, anything to get my thoughts off Evan. But my mind kept going back to his golden eyes, the sticky note, his possessive words. Do I even matter to him?
A shadow fell over my table.
"Well, well, look who's alone," came a sharp voice.
I looked up. A cheerleader, tall, perfectly polished hair and grin, was leaning across my table. Oh no… not today.
"Move," I muttered, keeping my gaze on my sketchbook, pretending I didn't notice her.
She leaned closer, smirking. "Or what, Sol? Gonna cry like last week?"
Something inside me snapped. All the doubts, all the hurt, all the times I'd felt small — it bubbled up, raw and hot.
I straightened in my chair. My hands shook, but I kept my chin up. No. Not this time.
"Leave me alone," I said, voice low but firm.
She laughed, a sharp, cruel sound. "Or what? You're just a little…"
Before I could think, my fist moved on its own. I punched her squarely in the shoulder. She yelped and stumbled back, wide-eyed, completely shocked.
The library went quiet. I blinked at myself. My hand tingled, my heart thumped, adrenaline rushing through me like wildfire.
"I… I'm done being scared," I whispered, my voice shaking, but there was strength behind it.
The librarian gasped. A couple of students whispered. Someone pulled out a phone. A call was made. My chest tightened. Suspension? My mom… she's going to hate me.
---
When I got home, Mom was waiting. Arms crossed, frown sharp, eyes piercing through me like she could see straight into my mistakes.
"Lyra! What happened today? You're suspended! Tell me now!"
I swallowed, tears brimming, voice trembling. "Mom… it's not like that. She… she was cornering me in the library. She was… she was threatening me, trying to humiliate me, and I… I just… I couldn't take it."
I told her everything — the sneers, the way the cheerleader had tried to intimidate me, the whispers, how she laughed at my reaction, how helpless I felt. I told her about Evan, the sticky note, and the way everything from school had been piling up in my chest.
My mom's frown softened, her arms wrapping around me. "Oh, Ly… I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone. You stood up for yourself. That's all that matters."
I blinked at her. "You're… okay with me punching her?"
She squeezed me. "Yes. I'm proud of you. You were scared, but you were brave. That's what counts. Just… next time, maybe use words first."
I laughed weakly through my tears. "I… I couldn't."
---
Later, I sat on my bed, trying to calm down. The adrenaline had left me shaking, my chest heavy with a mix of relief, pride, and lingering embarrassment. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through contacts. My fingers hovered over Soraya's name.
I dialed. "Hey… I… I want to do something."
"Lyra? What's wrong?" Soraya's voice was warm, soft.
"I… I want to invite everyone to my birthday party. I want all of you there. I… I just… I don't want to be alone again."
"Oh, Sol," she said, instantly enthusiastic. "Of course! We wouldn't miss it for the world!"
Saphira chimed in through the speakerphone, laughing softly. "You've earned a party after all this drama. We'll make sure it's amazing. You just tell us when and where."
I smiled through my tears, heart fluttering in a way I hadn't felt all day. Maybe… maybe everything's going to be okay.
---
Even with the adrenaline fading, my thoughts kept wandering to Evan. Did he even know what had happened? Did he care? My stomach twisted, a familiar ache of worry. Does he even like me… really? Or am I just imagining things again?
I clenched my fists, determination bubbling up. No. I can't overthink. I can't stay small anymore. I'm standing tall. I fought today, and I'll keep standing.
And somewhere deep down, I hoped… that maybe Evan would finally see me for who I really was — messy, flawed, scarred, but brave. And maybe, just maybe… he'd care as much as I cared about him.