Chapter 2 The Girl Who Refused Hands
Bellatrix and Mayzie didn't see each other much during school hours.
Their friendship started by accident when Bellatrix helped Mayzie after someone threw trash over her head. While cleaning her up, Bellatrix saw a job ad in Mayzie’s hand and told her about an opening at a café. That café became the center of everything — a place to work and talk without anyone watching them. Between school and long shifts, it was all they had.
Their college felt like a strict high school. Once you picked a major, you were stuck with the same group of people all day. Bellatrix was an Accounting major, lost in a sea of numbers and business students. Mayzie studied Psychology, surrounded by science majors. They lived in different worlds but felt the same loneliness.
At lunch, Mayzie hid at a quiet staircase behind the university building. Bellatrix, who ate earlier, always left small notes tucked into the steps. Those notes were Bellatrix’s way of coping; she felt everything too deeply and needed to write it down to get through the day. Mayzie sometimes felt those notes were the only thing keeping Bellatrix staying and going.
"Hey, you're Mayzie Kollins, right?"
Mayzie looked up from the wall where she leaned against. Six students stood there at the bottom of the stairs. She knew them as "The Destitutes". A nickname meant as a joke — the “poorest” group in school, even though they were still absurdly rich. Most came from newly wealthy families, which made them outsiders to the old-money elite.
"Yeah. What do you want?" Mayzie asked.
A thin boy stepped forward, smiling. Light hair, black turtleneck; he looked more like an artist than a science major. "I'm Calvin Elsworth, and this is—"
"I don't care," Mayzie snapped. "What is it that you want?"
The group looked at each other, surprised by her tone. A light breeze carried the smell of flowers from the garden. Calvin just smiled.
"We see you here sitting alone every day," he said calmly. "We usually eat under the big tree. We thought you might want to join us. It’s safer than being by yourself."
"Get lost," Mayzie muttered, looking back at her book.
Instead of leaving, they sat down on the stairs. They started opening expensive lunches — lobster and caviar — that cost more than Mayzie’s weekly budget. They began chatting about hosting a party while their parents were away.
My parents are out of town this weekend,” one girl said. “We should host something.”
The others agreed instantly.
Mayzie didn’t need to ask what kind of “something” that meant. Formal clothes. Catered food. People pretending to be important.
“Oh, you know what we should—”
"Go back to your spot and leave me the hell alone," Mayzie said.
A few of them blinked. One girl laughed. Then they went right back to their conversation as if she hadn't said a word. Feeling defeated, Mayzie packed her half-eaten sandwich to find somewhere else to sit.
"We're just trying to be friends," the laughing girl said, standing up.
Mayzie looked at her coldly. "I can live without the kind of friendship you offer." She walked inside.
"What a bitch," the girl whispered.
"Don't judge her, Waynona" Calvin said gently. "We know what she deals with. She has to be like that to survive."
Waynona sighed, sitting back down. “She always looks like she’s about to cry… I just didn’t expect her to bite back.”
“She has to,” Irvin said. “That’s how she survives.”
“So what now?” Elvira asked. “Do we leave her alone?”
Calvin shook his head. “If we want her to believe us, we have to keep trying.”
“I don’t get it,” Arie snapped. “Why does it matter? If she joins us, we’ll just become bigger targets. We reached out. She rejected us. That’s it.”
“Just because someone slaps your hand away,” Darrold said, “doesn’t mean you stop trying to pull them back.”
Elvira’s expression suddenly lit up, she had an idea. "She’s friends with that other scholarship girl, right?"
Waynona nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
Elvira grinned. “Then we start there. The freshman’s guard won’t be as high. If we get close to her, we’ll get to Mayzie.”
“Smart,” Calvin remarked.
“Whatever,” Arie muttered, already walking off.
“That’s just how he is,” Darrold sighed. “If there’s nothing in it for him, he doesn’t care.”
Elvira clapped her hands. “Two new girls! Do you think they’ll let us give them makeovers?”
“They’re not dolls,” Irvin groaned.
“No,” Waynona said with a grin, “but they’re girls.”
· · ─────── · 𓅪 · ─────── · ·
Mayzie walked through the courtyard, focused on her book. She needed a high grade on her next test. She noticed the school’s wealthiest group that she recognize instantly standing by a huge tree. One boy wore a leather jacket with his long, curly hair tied back; other three boys looked like polished preppies. The girl among them always looked like she didn’t quite belong, clinging to one of the boys. The last — clearly the leader — looked effortlessly put together. Messy brown hair, expensive clothes, and a vest that made him look like he was heading into a boardroom.
As she passed, the boy in the leather jacket looked at her. He felt familiar, but she ignored it and lowered her gaze back to her book.
Not her problem... not her world... and not her concern.
Suddenly, a hand knocked the book out of her grip. It was Terrence Payton. Oh, of course. She exhaled slowly. Three weeks... that's how long she'd avoided him.
"Miss me?" he smirked.
Mayzie tried to pick up her book, but Terrence kicked her hard in the hip. She hit the ground, scraping her elbow. She didn't say a word. She just got up. He shoved her again. She fell, then stood up. This happened five times. A crowd gathered to watch, but she stayed silent.
Finally, Terrence pinned her leg down with his foot.
"You don't get it, do you?" he sneered. You don't belong here," he sneered. "You don't belong here."
Blood ran down her elbow. Her gaze flicked to the book in his hand. If she asked for it, he’d destroy it. So she didn’t.
“You’re pathetic,” Terrence spat. “You won’t even fight back.”
He grabbed her sleeve and ripped it. "Maybe I should just strip you here so everyone sees you for what you are."
Mayzie looked down, lowered her head and sighed.
"Enough, Terrence."
A shadow fell over them. It was the boy in the leather jacket.
"Arking, you want her gone too, don't you? She doesn't leong here," Terrence asked.
Arking snatched the book from Terrence’s hand. "Yes," he said coldly. "But not like this. This crosses a line. Everyone, go to class."
The crowd scattered, and left instantly. Mayzie began picking up her things from the dirt. Arking dropped her book in front of her.
"Most people say thank you," a girl named Kelsi said, crossing her arms.
Mayzie looked at her torn sleeve. "I didn't ask for help."
She walked away without looking back, like nothing happened.
"Unbelievable," Kelsi snapped. "I'm going after her."
"Let it go," Arking responded. "She's right, after all."
Dalton studied him. “Why did you help her?”
Arking shrugged. “Because that wasn’t right.”
As they walked away, Arking noticed a small contact book on the ground. He picked it up and saw a phone number inside.
“I’ll catch up later,” he said, already walking away.
“Where are you going?” Gustav called.
“To return this to her," Arking replied without look back.
Blake frowned. “Since when do he get involved in things like this?”
"I don't know," Dalton answered, watching Arking leave with a look; eyes narrowing slightly. Something about it didn’t sit right with him.