The girls turned.
So did Lisa.
A tall boy stepped forward from the crowd, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade. He looked calm. There was something in the way he carried himself, something unspoken yet powerful, that made people instinctively step aside without being told.
Lisa recognized him immediately. Almost everyone did.
Adrian.
He was one of the most respected and feared students in the school. Stories followed him wherever he went, though no one could ever quite agree on which ones were true.
His dark eyes swept slowly over the group of girls, assessing, unreadable.
"I think you've said enough," he said, his voice steady, quiet, but firm enough to command attention.
The girl who had been speaking crossed her arms, with her chin lifted . "This doesn't concern you."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "It does now."
The hallway fell into a near silence. Conversations died mid sentence as students nearby turned to watch, sensing something they didn't want to miss.
For a brief moment, it seemed like the girl might argue further. Her lips parted, her posture stiffening, but then something shifted. Perhaps it was the look in Adrian's eyes. Perhaps it was the weight of his reputation.
She rolled her eyes instead. "Whatever."
She stepped aside, and her friends followed without protest.
Adrian's gaze moved to Lisa, lingering only for a second. "You should go," he said.
Lisa nodded quickly, not trusting her voice.
She walked past them, her legs trembling despite her effort to appear composed. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, each step feeling heavier than the last.
When she reached the stairs, she couldn't resist glancing back.
Adrian was still standing there.
Watching the others.
Calm. Unbothered.
As though he had done nothing unusual.
Lisa looked away quickly and continued down the stairs, her thoughts racing.
She didn't understand why he had helped her. She didn't even know him.
But something about that moment stayed with her.
Because for the first time since returning to school, someone had stood on her side.
And deep down, Lisa had a strange feeling that this wouldn't be the last time their paths would cross.
Waiting for the closing bell felt like the longest stretch of time Lisa had ever endured. Each tick of the clock echoed in her mind, slow and deliberate, as though time itself had chosen to mock her.
Her eyes kept darting to her watch, counting seconds, then minutes, then counting again just to be sure.
She needed to see Lizzy.
Earlier that day, she had told her: if everything went smoothly, she would go straight home after school. But if it became too much, if the weight of it all pressed down too heavily, she wouldn't settle for a virtual hug.
She would come.
As Lisa approached Lizzy's house, she noticed her already standing at the door, as though she had been waiting all along.
The moment Lisa saw her, something inside her broke.
She ran toward Lizzy like a child who had been lost for far too long.
And the moment she reached her, she collapsed into her arms and began to cry.
Lizzy didn't say a word.
She simply held her.
Held her tightly, gently, patiently, allowing Lisa to release everything she had been holding in.
The tears came in waves, uncontrollable and raw, until eventually, they slowed… then stopped.
When Lisa finally calmed down, Lizzy pulled back slightly, her hands resting on Lisa's shoulders.
"My lovely Lisa," she said softly, her voice warm but steady, "I'm not going to promise you that these are the hardest days you'll ever face."
Lisa sniffed, wiping her eyes.
"Right now," Lizzy continued, "you're like a soldier on a battlefield. And if you keep stopping to check your wounds while you're still fighting, you'll lose before you even have a chance to win."
Lisa listened quietly.
"I'm not saying your pain doesn't matter," Lizzy added gently. "I'm saying you have to keep going despite it. Their opinions of you, they don't define who you are."
She paused, then smiled faintly. "Come. Let me show you something."
Lizzy led her outside, holding a cup of water. Her dog trotted over happily, tail wagging.
Without warning, Lizzy poured the water over the dog.
Instantly, the dog shook its entire body, sending droplets flying in every direction, before letting out a loud bark.
Lizzy laughed softly and pulled the dog closer, petting it.
"Did you notice anything?" she asked.
Lisa sniffed again, her voice small. "It barked?"
Lizzy shook her head. "No. It shook it off."
Lisa blinked.
"That's what I want you to do," Lizzy said. "Shake it off. Whatever people say, whatever they throw at you, don't let it stay on you. Grow a tough skin."
She looked directly into Lisa's eyes.
"They don't know you better than you know yourself. And they certainly don't know you better than I do. You are enough, Liza. You have everything you need to succeed. So hold on."
Something in Lisa softened.
The tightness in her chest eased just a little.
The tears that had been threatening to return faded instead.
She exhaled slowly, then began to speak, telling Lizzy about the boy who had stepped in earlier.
"He…, he commanded so much respect," Lisa said, a small smile forming despite herself. "I think… I'd call him my knight in shining armor."
Lizzy's expression softened further. "I love that smile," she said. "It's beautiful."
Lisa looked down shyly.
"And I'm glad," Lizzy continued, "that someone was there to protect you when I couldn't be. But listen to me, be kind to yourself, yes… but also set boundaries. Don't go giving your heart away just because someone showed up once."
Lisa nodded. "I promise, Lizzy. I'm not letting my guard down again."
Lizzy smiled knowingly. "Good. I trust you won't."
Evening came faster than Lisa would have liked.
The sky had already begun to dim when she finally stood to leave.
Part of her didn't want to go.
Because going home meant returning to a place that never truly felt like one.
A place where peace was temporary… and conflict was routine.
Still, what choice did she have?
Lizzy walked her to the bus stop, staying with her until she boarded.
Lisa waved as the bus pulled away, watching Lizzy grow smaller in the distance.
And then, just like that, she was alone again.
By the time she reached home, the air already felt heavy.
She hadn't even stepped fully inside when she heard it.
Voices.
Raised.
Sharp.
Familiar.
Her parents were arguing again.
Lisa didn't bother trying to understand the cause. It was always something usually something insignificant that somehow grew into something explosive.
She stepped inside quietly.
Her mother was holding the baby, her face tense with frustration, while her father stood nearby, his voice loud and biting.
Neither of them noticed Lisa at first.
Lisa slipped past them, heading to wash her hands before approaching her mother.
Without a word, she reached out to take the baby.
"No greeting?" her mother snapped suddenly, her voice cutting through the air. "Why are you coming home at this time?"
Lisa froze for a second.
She didn't respond.
She didn't have the strength to.
Before she could even think of what to say, her father scoffed.
"She's no different from you," he said to her mother, his tone dripping with accusation.
That was all it took.
The argument exploded.
Voices rose higher. Words became sharper.
Lisa tuned it out.
Carefully, gently, she took the baby into her arms and walked toward her room, closing the door behind her.
Inside, the noise became muffled, distant.
She sat on the bed, rocking the baby slowly.
Back and forth.
The baby's tiny fingers curled slightly, her breathing soft and even as she drifted off to sleep.
Lisa watched her, her expression softening.
There was something about her something pure, untouched by the chaos of the world outside.
Every time Lisa looked at her, everything else seemed to fade.
The judgment.
The whispers.
The weight of expectations.
It all disappeared.
For a moment, there was only peace.
Lisa adjusted the blanket gently, making sure the baby was comfortable.
But just as she leaned back, allowing herself a rare moment of calm
Her phone beeped, she opened it to see a text that read…"
You really think it's over, we just got started "