The next morning, Sofía got dressed slowly.
She chose an oversized button-up shirt and skintight, high-waisted jeans. For a moment, she considered tucking the shirt in it would look nice, she thought but the echoes of mocking laughter and cruel chants of fatty rang too loudly in her head. The idea withered before it could take shape, and she left the shirt hanging loose, hiding her body the way she always did.
In the kitchen, she made herself a strong cup of coffee, toast, and a fried egg. She ate in silence.
She had time for breakfast only because Alfonso had come by early that morning his flight was in an hour. They had clung to each other, cried together, and he had drilled her relentlessly with safety advice, warning her to be cautious at all times.
Then he left.
She hadn't slept afterward. Instead, she lay on her bed, tears soaking into the pillow until she had nothing left to cry. Eventually, she pulled herself together. She showered, changed, and forced herself to function.
Now, sitting at the table, she considered calling Alfonso only to remember he'd already be on the plane.
She finished eating, cooked pasta for lunch, packed it neatly into her lunchbox, and slid it into her bag. After washing the dishes, she checked herself in the mirror one last time before pulling on a large, masculine coat, tucking her hair inside, and topping it off with a cap.
She needed to be careful now.
Alfonso wasn't here anymore.
He was far away.
Locking the door behind her, she hurried to the bus stop. Once on the bus, she released a shaky breath and slid into her usual seat third from the back, by the window.
For the first time in two years, her worries weren't centered on her bullies.
Mr. Ruiz.
What an ironic twist of fate.
When she reached the gates of Horace Mann, she inhaled deeply, straightened her spine, and stepped inside with a fresh determination to face whatever awaited her.
It didn't last long.
The moment she passed the parking lot, her path was blocked by Mateo Villanueva.
"Not so fast, fatty," he drawled, towering in front of her.
Sofía didn't retreat.
"What do you want, Mateo?" she asked blandly, startled by the confidence in her own voice.
Good job, Sofía.
His eyebrows lifted in surprise before a crooked smirk spread across his face. His chocolate-brown eyes sparkled with amusement. He was handsome unfortunately, his personality ruined it completely.
"Oh? You can talk now?" he teased.
"I can. Now move," she said firmly, attempting to walk past him.
He stepped in her way again.
"What's the rush?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Mateo was her age, but thanks to failing his classes twice he was still a sophomore. Not even his family's money could save him academically. Sports, however, were his strong suit. A typical jock.
Sometimes she wanted to laugh at him, to mock him right back. But she knew better he could make her life unbearable if he wanted.
"I'll be late for class," she said through clenched teeth.
"Don't be so bitter, fatty."
"Don't call me that," Sofía said sharply.
He chuckled.
"Then what should I call you? Hippo?"
He laughed at his own cruelty. Her confidence wavered, but she forced herself to remain composed and tried once more to leave.
He blocked her again.
"Hippo sounds better than fatty, don't you think?"
His laughter burned. He had no idea how deeply his words cut, how they chipped away at what little self-worth she had left.
"Does hurting people make you happy?" Sofía asked quietly, her voice trembling.
Mateo fell silent.
The amusement drained from his face, replaced by something darker.
"Maybe," he muttered before turning and walking away.
Sofía watched his retreating back, disappointment settling heavily in her chest. No matter how hard she tried to keep her spirits up, something always found a way to ruin her day.
At her locker, she retrieved the books for her first class and shoved the rest inside. Students filled the hallways, laughing and chatting as she walked alone toward her classroom.
No one wanted to befriend her not with Miguel, Lucía, and Mateo ruling the social hierarchy.
As if they were gods.
Idiots.
The first class passed easily. The second was tolerable. The third dragged on endlessly. By the time break arrived, she was desperate for refuge.
She headed to her usual spot, wiped the desk down with tissues, and settled by the window. As she ate her lunch, her mind replayed the encounter with Mr. Ruiz at the park.
Awkward didn't even begin to describe it.
Lucía's threat echoed relentlessly in her thoughts. And what Mr. Ruiz had done in his office last time
No.
She wasn't going back there.
She could learn math from YouTube if she had to. Anything was better than being alone with him.
After lunch, she headed to her next class.
Math.
She quietly took the seat Mr. Ruiz had assigned her. Within moments, he entered the room. He paused just briefly before stepping forward as the class greeted him.
Sofía kept her eyes down, yet she could feel his gaze boring into her skull.
What had she done now?
Why couldn't he just teach and leave her alone?
He began the lecture. She only dared to look up when his back was turned.
As soon as the bell rang, she was the first out of her seat, heading straight for her final class.
Her mind scrambled for excuses reasons she could give him for refusing the extra tutoring sessions in his office.
In the end, she decided on honesty.
I'll just tell him I'm uncomfortable.
Yes.
That should work.
Hopefully.
Little did she know…