Ten

Ten
MIRELLA’S POV

The first day back felt worse than I expected.

Whispers followed me from the school gate to my classroom, crawling down the hallways like smoke.

Everyone had something to say — about the “suspended girl,” the “fat rebel,” the “idiot who tried to fight a legion.”

They weren’t even trying to be quiet about it.

When I got to my locker, there was a folded piece of paper tucked under it. I didn’t need to open it to know who it was from, but I did anyway.

“Know your place now.”

There was no name nor signature.

But the handwriting was neat and sharp — just like her voice, so I didn't need to be a genius to figure it out.

I crumpled the paper in my fist, feeling the words dig into my palm. I wasn’t going to reply. Not yet. People like her didn’t deserve reactions. They deserved results.

As I slipped into my seat, my eyes swept over the classroom. Everyone seemed smaller somehow — like they all shrank into themselves whenever one of the legions looked their way. The legions sat at the back, legs spread, talking and laughing as if they owned the air we breathed.

Kaelen was there too, as always — calm, distant, unreadable. I avoided his eyes. I didn’t need another reminder of what I was up against.

But this time, I wasn’t coming back as the same girl.

This time, I had a plan.

The teacher walked in, dropped his books, and announced there would be a debate. Groans filled the room. No one liked speaking in front of everyone — it was like volunteering to be humiliated.

Names were called. Random students, one after the other. And then, I heard it — a shaky voice trying to say “present.”

The stutterer.

He was a small guy, thin with messy hair and round glasses that kept slipping off his face. His name was “Theo.” I’d seen him around before, always sitting at the corner of the cafeteria, eating alone.

The moment his name was announced, the class burst out laughing.

“Please,” one of the boys snickered, “he can’t even say his name, how will he debate?”

The teacher shot him a warning glare, but that didn’t stop the female legion from smirking. She leaned back in her seat and whispered something to her friend. They both laughed.

I knew that laugh. It meant she planned this.

Theo stood up, holding his notes like a lifeline. His hands trembled. The first words came out broken, swallowed by nervousness. Every stutter felt like a dagger in the silence.

The class tried to hold their laughter, but small chuckles kept slipping through. Even the teacher sighed, looking like he wanted to disappear.

When the debate ended, the teacher barely said a word before dismissing them. Theo sank into his chair, his face red. I could tell he just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

I didn’t clap. Nobody did.

But I couldn’t stop watching him.

Because in that moment, I saw something I recognized — that same humiliation I’d felt when the whole school turned against me. That same burn that made you wish you could disappear.

And I knew it — he’d be my first member.

During the break, I overheard the female legion talking near the lockers. “I told the teacher to pick him,” she said, smirking. “I was bored. Needed a laugh.”

Her friends laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

That was all I needed to hear.

After class, I found Theo by the stairs. He was packing his bag like he wanted to vanish. I walked up to him and said, “Hey, want to grab lunch?”

He froze. “N-no thanks,” he muttered, eyes down.

“I’m not like them,” I said quickly. “I just… wanted to talk.”

He looked at me for the first time — suspicious, angry. “You think I’m stupid? You’re one of them.”

That stung, but I didn’t blame him. “I’m not,” I said. “And for what it’s worth, the female legion set you up. She told the teacher to pick you because she thought you’d make good comic relief.”

He went quiet. His grip on his bag tightened. I thought he’d walk away, but after a long pause, he sighed.

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” he said softly. “No one listens to people like me anyway.”

“Then maybe it’s time someone did,” I said.

He didn’t answer. But when I started walking toward the cafeteria, I heard footsteps behind me.

Lunch was awkward. Theo sat beside me, still tense. Iris joined us halfway through, her tray clattering a little louder than usual. She looked from me to Theo, then leaned close and whispered, “Why is the trending stutterer sitting with us?”

I didn’t look at her. “Because we’re friends now.”

Iris blinked. “Friends?”

Theo’s face flushed. “Y-you don’t have to s-say that,” he muttered.

“I want to,” I said. “Let them stare. I don’t care.”

And they did stare. The cafeteria was alive with whispers. Some students pointed, laughing quietly. A few of the legions looked our way too — especially the female one. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Theo sitting beside me.

People started passing by our table just to make fun of him. A boy from another class mimicked his stutter. “H-h-how’s your d-day, T-t-theo?” he said, laughing.

The others joined in, throwing their leftover bread crusts on our table.

Theo kept his head down. His hands were under the table, fists clenched tight. I could see the humiliation on his face — the same kind I used to wear.

I wanted to get up, wanted to yell at them all, but I didn’t. Not yet. Not now.

Because this was just the beginning.

I leaned toward him and whispered, “You’ll see, Theo. They won’t laugh for long.”

He didn’t reply, but I caught the flicker in his eyes — a spark of curiosity, maybe even hope.

When the noise finally died down, Iris sighed. “Mirella, you’re going to get yourself in trouble again. The female legion will come for you. You know how she is.”

I smiled faintly. “Let her come.”

Iris frowned. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I’m done running,” I said quietly. “And she’s going to learn that soon.”

Theo looked up at me for the first time since lunch began. His eyes were still uncertain, but I could tell something had shifted.

Maybe he didn’t trust me yet. Maybe he didn’t believe in me either. But that was fine.

It always starts with one person. One spark.

And I’d just found mine.

As we stood to leave the cafeteria, the female legion’s voice rang out from behind us. “Enjoy your charity project, Mirella. Let’s see how long you can keep your pet.”

Laughter followed her words.

I didn’t turn
around.

But inside, I made a promise.

She’d regret saying that.

And the next time she laughed, I’d be the reason she stopped.