Go home. However...

As the day comes to an end, you decide to go home since you have nothing left to do here. However, just as you're about to leave, someone throws a ball of some kind of slimy substance on your hair and runs away laughing with her friends. Rage and frustration quickly build inside you, and there’s the impulse to follow them. But then what would you do? Punch them? That’s one way to ruin your life, if the headmistress’ words are anything to go by.

You swallow your anger and let it go. And it was shaping up to be a decent day, too.

You drag your feet towards the restroom to clean your hair, knowing at least that this slime is washable. The thing is, since this is a girls-only school, there’s no men’s restroom, therefore, you have to use a small, almost closet-sized restroom. It’s supposed to be for the staff, but almost no one uses it. As such, there are days when…

Yep. It’s already locked today.

As you stand there, shoulders slumped and dirty hair, preparing to make the walk home like this, Ms. Campbell spots you. Her eyes widen, she gasps and covers her mouth with her hands when she sees you.

“What happened!?”

“…Nothing.” Yeah, that’s clever. You have such a defeated tone that it’d fool no one. “The restroom’s closed, that’s all.” God, you feel pathetic.

“That’s not nothing! Come here, let me help you.” Ms. Campbell takes your wrist and leads you all the way to her office and the restroom inside. See why no one uses the other one? Teachers even have their own restrooms.

You put your head under the running water in the sink and start washing your hair. It’s only when you feel a different pair of hands in your head that you wake up from your slump. You shiver, getting goosebumps and you heart starts beating faster.

Ms. Campbell is helping you get clean, carefully running her fingers through your hair and getting as much slime out as she can.

“How did this happen?” She asks, concerned.

“…” A part of you doesn’t want to answer. It wins, apparently. You just feel so pathetic with this whole thing, and admitting it would just make it even worse.

“Alright, then I’ll change the question. Who did this?” She asks, more firmly but still working on your hair.

“… I don’t know. They threw the thing and ran away.”

You hear Ms. Campbell click her tongue and there’s a hard pull on your hair along with it.

“Ouch!”

“I’m Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!” She quickly apologizes. “I just… I didn’t think things were this bad.” She says, regretfully.

So she’s aware this is happening?

You both keep quiet until your hair is clean. It’s awkward for you, and you don’t know what Ms. Campbell is thinking. She hands you a towel and you dry your hair.

“Thanks.” You say. It comes out ****, not because you’re not thankful, but because the situation has you in a sour mood.

“Should I have just let you be?” She asks, seemingly concerned that she overstepped her boundaries.

“N-no. I really am thankful. It’s just… I’m tired, Ms. Campbell. I’m tired of stuff like this happening every day. It doesn’t happen that much in class because the teachers are there, but whenever I’m alone, every girl in this school seems to go out of their way to either say or do something to me.” You finally admit. “It goes beyond things like bullying. I’m not wanted here, and I get it, but it’s not like I’m here by choice.”

Your eyes widen when you start to see tears in the eyes of Ms. Campbell. She covers her mouth and shuts her eyes as she mutters “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“W-why are you apologizing?”

“Because this is my fault! I was the one who pushed the headmistress into accepting you here!”

“I don’t understand…” You say, but Ms. Campbell doesn’t stop crying. This is awkward and now you feel bad for making her cry.