Me and My Bully

Sue Storm is my favorite superhero. I’ve always wished I could just disappear. Vanish without a trace. Not like I want to die, or anything. Just… not be here. It’s like my poor Dad always says, “If they can’t see you, Cass, they can’t hurt you.”

So I’ve spent my life perfecting the art of not being seen. Couldn’t be too girly, even though I love soft pastels and romance stories and the way long loose dresses feel against my skin. Being a capital-G Girl meant joining the endless battle for position in the feminine hierarchy, meant being the target of boys’ attentions, meant not being invisible. Couldn’t be a tomboy, even though I love baseball and mountain bikes and getting lost in the forest. Tomboys get picked on by everyone. Tomboys stand out.

So I kept my loves inside, hidden, where no one but myself could see them. I learned to find the middle way. Brown hair not too long or too short, bangs just thick enough to hide my green eyes when I need to. Glasses not too stylish or too noticeably boring, big enough to obscure the freckles across my nose. Jeans and sweatshirts, not so loose as to be mistaken for a slacker or alt kid, definitely not tight enough to show off my modest breasts and butt.

Yeah, I know I’m lucky in that department. Some girls can’t help but be noticed with the bodies they have, but thankfully I’m able to keep that part of me on the downlow. Not that I don’t think about being touched, or anything. I like to touch myself. I just can’t imagine anyone else doing the touching. To do that, they’d have to see me first.

So I sit here in my art class, trying not to be seen. I like my art teacher; he has a wonderfully broad definition of what art is, and lets his students follow their own passion, as long as he thinks they’re expressing themselves. Art is the one place I feel like I can come out of my shell. Just a little bit. Most of the other students are too absorbed in their own work to really pay attention to me. Most of them.

Derek is perhaps the least artistically inclined person I’ve ever met. He’s been that way since grade school. All he cares about is football, and the big stupid navy ships down at the base, and, of course, what other people think about him. So in art class, when Mr. Berenger isn’t forcing him to work on his paintings of battleships, he’s holding court with the other students. Making the boys laugh with his stupid jokes. Making the girls blush with his crass flirtations.

Not me, of course. He doesn’t see me. He never has.

Thank god.

I know the other girls would call me crazy if they knew, but I can’t fucking stand him. He’s too loud, too brash, always in other people’s business. And, of course, he’s a huge bully. Always gets his way, and always makes it everyone else’s problem. Always picks on the little guys, always pressures the girls he likes into putting out, always pushing everyone around to make room for him and his huge personality. And everyone, students and teachers alike, let him get away with it because he’s big and blond and “good looking”. Oh yeah, and his dad is commander of the navy base that employs half the town. Being invisible to him specifically has been a mission of mine since we were in second grade together. I’ve gotten very, very good at it.

So I wait until he leaves at the final bell before walking up to Mr. Berenger to talk about my scholarship. He said he would be hearing back from the foundation over the weekend, so all Monday long I’ve had a little tickle in the back of my brain, waiting and hoping and waiting and hoping. I know better than to let that kind of excitement show on the outside, but as I step up to my art teacher’s desk I can feel my fingers start to twitch.

Mr. Berenger gives me that wide, warm, welcoming smile of his, and I can’t help but smile back. His long silvery hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, his soft brown eyes are surrounded by wrinkles from decades of giving that encouraging smile to students, and his blue plaid shirt is adorned with a bright yellow daisy pin with the word GROOVY under it in that cartoonish ‘70s script. “Cass, hey! Glad to see you. I loved what you were doing with those ceramic shards today.”

My brain buzzes with warmth. “Oh! Ah, thanks Mr. Berenger.” I take a small, quiet breath. “I was wondering, if, y’know, maybe you’d heard…” my voice trails off as I see the sadness in his eyes.

“I have, actually.” His smile fades and he sits up a little straighter in his chair. “The foundation was impressed with your technical ability, but unfortunately they made the decision to move forward with other applicants.”

My heart is somewhere in the soles of my shoes. I’m having trouble finding my breath. “Did… did they say… why?”

The corners of his mouth turn down just a little. “Yes, Cass. They said they wanted to see more passion, more expression, in the work.” He stands up and puts a warm hand on my shoulder, and I’m too in my feelings to flinch away. “It’s like I’ve been telling you, that shell needs to crack someday, Cass. You have so much beauty inside you, but no one will see it if you don’t share it.”

I’m not sure what I said in response to that. I turned to leave quickly, so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes. Walking down the hall towards the exit, I just kept asking myself why? Why did I get my hopes up? Why did I actually believe something good could happen to me? Why the FUCK did Mr. Berenger actually encourage me to do something so stupid as waste everyone’s time with that bullshit application?

I can feel the Sad start to creep in around the edges, and I can tell it’s going to be bad this time. Real bad. I can already feel myself starting to go numb. Sounds are quieter, even the bright afternoon sun in the schoolyard is dim as winter twilight. I can’t even feel myself walking, so of course I’m not looking where I’m going.

And then… BAM

There he is.

I bounce off a solid wall of muscle. “Ah!” I stumble backwards, catching my glasses before they fall off my face, and then look up… up… up… to see Derek grinning down at me.

“Holy shit, Cassie Kilpatrick!” His grin widens into a smile, revealing his gleaming perfect teeth. “I thought you disappeared after grade school. What a blast from the past.” His green eyes peek out from under his messy blond hair as he scans my nondescript body, his smile sharpening. “And you’ve grown up.”

My mouth opens and closes and opens again. I can’t say anything. I can’t even think. But I can feel. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I can feel the slight soreness where I’d impacted him. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s like the Sad was never there. Now I’m just scared.

Derek chuckles. “Y’know, I’ve been getting kinda bored lately. But now I know just how I’m gonna fill my time.” He ruffles my hair, painfully hard, forcing me to let out a small grunt and then he shoves me aside on his way to the parking lot. “See ya tomorrow!”

I stare after him, mouth open, acutely aware of all the other students staring at me.