37. LUIS’S POV

Despite the encouragement I felt after talking to Clarissa, I still dreaded facing others at school.

My only option was to resume as soon as the school’s gate opened.

Immediately, I made my way to my locker to drop my stuff. The moment I opened it, something squishy dropped onto my shoe.

“Argh,” I jumped, startled, only to look down and find a bloody dead rat on the ground. The blood had dripped from my locker down to the ones beneath it. The droplets on the other lockers looked like something out of a horror movie, the way it seeped into the keyhole and still continued down.

I had no doubts the owner would be traumatized just as I am.

My mind couldn't process why anyone would go this far or what the hate was really about.

Rolland had only been here for a day, so there was definitely no way anyone had staked a claim on him.

The smell of the rat rose to my nose, making me gag.

My shoe was stained, and my locker was a mess. Lucky for me, I barely left my things behind, but the PE uniform and a few stationery items in there were ruined.

With a bang, I closed the locker and turned to the restroom to clean up.

Sure enough, whoever put that thing in there had done so in anticipation of my reaction.

But I had saved myself the humiliation by coming earlier than anyone else.

I was glad I didn't have the stomach to digest breakfast; otherwise, I'd have thrown up all over the lockers.

Even so, I couldn't bear to meet anyone, so I went to my favorite spot.

The art room.

It was chilly, but it provided the silence and uninterrupted energy I needed the most before school got filled with other students.

I picked up my brush to start painting. It was certain that no calls or notification sounds would be coming in. This wasn't just because I put my phone on airplane mode,

but mainly because I left my phone back at home. I didn't want to tempt myself to look at the notifications and then get depressed afterward.

In twenty minutes, I had painted a boy with six colors of the rainbow. Except for the color blue.

The painting looked incomplete despite the number of strokes I added. And not until I added a new detail did it occur to me that the so-called boy was missing a face and an expression.

Despite the mixture of colors on the canvas, the painting still looked plain.

I closed my eyes and relaxed my mind, but all I found was commotion.

Thinking it was best to continue later, I locked up the painting and prepared my mind for class.

I manifested peace and tranquility, but every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was that dead rat, and I couldn't help but imagine what other, worse thing the instigator had planned.

As soon as I walked out of the art room, I saw Rolland walking towards me.

At first, I remained frozen on the spot. Seeing him brought me a moment of relief because he would let me cry on his shoulders without any judgment.

However, how could I dare to in this situation?

“Hey,” he called out with a smile and waved. It broke my heart, but I turned around. If he got further implicated because of me, guilt would eat me from the inside out.

So I turned around and continued away from him. Turning my back to him hurt, but who knew what story would be cooked up from us just greeting ‘good morning’?

I continued forward even without knowing where I was headed, and not until I was certain there was no one walking behind me did I turn around. Of course, he wasn't there, because I had somehow walked into the science laboratory.

My mind was a mess, but this was proof that it would only get worse.

No. I couldn't bear to do that to Clarissa or her mom.

I taught her to stand up for herself. Letting this situation take control of me was the same as failing them.

I stormed my way to class, taking the longer route. But I didn’t feel tired from that.

If anything, my strength was at its peak despite my breathlessness as I got to class.

The hallways were cleared. Classes had started.

Again, I managed to avoid running into people, even though I wouldn’t have minded this time.

“Why are you late to my class?” Mrs. Eleanor asked.

“I…”

“Oh, it’s you, the teacher’s seducer,” she interjected my explanation. The class burst out laughing, taking it as a chance to throw shades at me.

“What?” It didn't make any sense. Even though all the students decided to gang up on me, the least any teacher should do was stay neutral and try to bring in reason.

“Mrs. Eleanor, I think he was busy finding a teacher to seduce,” someone called from the back of the class, and everyone laughed.

They shouldn't be doing this.

I scanned the class for signs of Garber and saw him, but he looked so absent. His eyes were just like sockets on his face. Hollow and empty.

My stares were as intense as lasers, but he didn't stir. Something was wrong.

But the unrest going on in class was even more wrong.

“Who would have thought that the nerd had a kink for older men?” At this time, I felt myself go rigid at the accusation.

“Looks like he's about to cry. I think he has learned his lesson,” Mrs. Eleanor said, as if to scold the class, but she had hit me directly.

“I did nothing wrong, so why should I be taught a lesson?” I asked her, and she froze. Clearly, she didn't expect my outburst.

But I was just getting started.

“You seduced a teacher. He was new, but you threw yourself at him like that.”

“You should be ashamed.”

“Seduced a teacher?” I scoffed.

“Where is your evidence?” I stood my ground right in front of the class.

The teacher had thought she could make me an object of ridicule?

Well. I REFUSE!

*Guys, what do you think of this chapter?*

*How would you have reacted in this situation?*