8 Chapter VII

Police officer: Assault. Tell me about the assault.

Me: It all started in the pathetic cafeteria.

Police officer: The cafeteria?

Me: Yes. With lambs.

***

The menu read: Liverwurst Sandwich and canned peas. $13

It smelled like cat food and looked disgusting. Sunny peeked at the lady taking orders. She tapped the cash-out machine with her four-inch nails, then without gloves, she grabbed a stale loaf of bread, slopped it together with some lettuce and pre-cooked liverwurst, and called it a sandwich. When students hesitated over what drink to order, she spoke with repelling language. She looked drunk.

Sunny waved goodbye to the canteen and resorted to sitting at a table with her food. Sunny didn't realize it at the time, but Cole was sitting there with his boys. They all had the same dishes of Liverwurst sandwich, though they were much smaller than the image on the menu. Sunny held her lunch bag with both hands and plopped herself down. Silent as a stone. Still, inevitably, he noticed her.

"Oh, look. It's the Korean girl," he said with rapacious eyes and a shrewd glance and let off a threatening feeling.

"Yeah, the only one in town. Ha-ha-ha," another boy said. Sunny's eyes jumped from one boy to the next, then back down at her lap. She screwed open the lid of her thermos.

Immediately, Cole mumbled incoherently, peering at Sunny with his big red eyes. There was something in there that he didn't know. An unfamiliar odor. And to him, the unknown was the equivalent of nasty.

"Ohh... my... goodness," he said. "What the fuck is that? It reeks." Cole had one hand over his nose now with his thick unibrow furrowed. The others followed, echoing similar phrases along with him. Sunny felt a sting of offense but ignored it, believing that if they had just one spoon of this combo, they would fall in love as she had her first time. Sunny breathed in the smell of steamed rice and drooled a bit.

"It's my mother's roasted lambs," she said. "Would you guys like some? They're my favorite." Those eyes doubled like she had announced something astonishing. Then, as if planned, the table was intruded by laughter.

Big mean arrows were thrown.

"Korean girl." Cole leaned in, holding one hand to his mouth. His breath tickled Sunny's ear. "I think you better put that away before it stinks up this entire building." His whisper wasn't much of a whisper, more of an order.

"Bu—"

"Here in McMurray, we don't eat dogs." Sunny tried to conceal her embarrassment by covering her glass container with her hands, but her red cheeks told it all.

"Lambs, you mean," she said. A sudden wave of shame came over her. She wanted to hide behind Lyssa like a little child, but it was time to own it. Lyssa would want her to. "You aren't dumb enough not to know the difference, are you?" Sunny's voice was unsteady, like a tipping boat. Yet she had sparkles in her eyes because she used her braveness to stop being shy. But her eyes met his, and she saw something cold. He stopped laughing.

Stay calm. Still. Be your own silent hero and eat your food. Her stomach begged. She picked up her—

Sorry, she tried to pick up the lamb. But Cole got there before her and ripped the fork away. Wind around Sunny's neck tightened, tension standing beside her.

"Do you know who you are talking to?" He yelled in her nose. She didn't look up. He grabbed her chin and forced eye contact. Sunny made an effort to free her eyes from his gaze and attend to eating. But he pulled harder, treating Sunny as a football.

The clamorous chatter around her stilled. He threw her neck away. Handing his backpack to one of the boys in his gang, he rolled up his sleeves. Cole was king, an angry king. Cole was angry at Sunny. Selena was on the side. She was mute. Sunny's friend suddenly became shy.

"Get out yellow head. Get the fuck out of here!" It seemed as if the entire school's eyes were on her. Some hid their mouths behind their hands, others didn't even try to hide their grins, their amusement. Sunny was their hilarity. A flaming fear came over her almond eyes and the whispers strained her ears.

Then she stood still, stopped dead short by the punch of an athletic genius. He ripped the plate from her hands and chucked it across the cafeteria as if it were his puck. She watched the rice and lamb splatter on the grey brick. Then slide down onto the concrete ground where it mushed into a pile that smelled like fresh vomit.

A wave of cheers flew around her. The wind tightened.

Still, Sunny looked forgiving as if she thought that he didn't mean it, that it wasn't aggressive or defensive. That it was just under the stress of desperation, and in its essence purely protective. But we all knew these were childlike games she played with her mind to keep sane.

He held his head rigid, face forward; his mouth foamed a little. He kicked her, and Sunny's head hit the cement ground. Her vision flashed white and she heard people letting out triumphing laughs. The tumult of angry warlike yells rang painfully in her ears. She heard Selena.

"Nice one, Cole!" His buddies praised. "Monster strength," said Selena, with hearts flowing out of her eyes. The Kitties, hands looped around each other, cheered on like fans from the sidelines.

The bell rang and the noises around Sunny ebbed. The students walked by her and into the classrooms, and as they did some kicked her sides and others tipped over her legs. She tucked her legs into her chest and folded herself until she looked like a ball. Tears had filled her eyes, but for nothing would she let them fall. Be strong.

***

The rest of the day unfolded like an ongoing movie playing in the distance. Sunny vaguely heard some noises, but all the rest was clouded figures and movements. She was stumbling on the edge of her toes as if she were on a heavy dose of anesthesia-- unfeeling and numb.

One thing she did recall was the dripping of her nose. Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound was very annoying like a phone that never stops buzzing. It was even worse when it got everywhere. Messy.

Red.

Red.

Blood.

The principal handed her a tissue and asked her who did this. He spoke slowly, in a hasty indiscreet type of way while Sunny wrapped her arms around her bruised body quietly. It was as if she was afraid to utter a word. As if doing so would lead to punishment. Her body radiated the exact opposite of confidence in its aura. But she was smart enough to know that she needed to speak.

Sunny opened her mouth, but just then, the principal took out his phone and swiped a few times, not giving much care to his student. Sunny bit her lip and told him it was herself; she had tripped on a rock on the way to the football field. He didn't exactly believe Sunny, but her excuse would mean less fret for him. The idler gave her a perfunctorily smile and in a mechanical voice told her to 'have a wonderful day'.

Sunny made a trip to the bathroom: she took the tissues out of her nostrils, splashed cold water over her eyes, and combed her hair with bloody fingers. Sunny stayed in there until she looked human again. Sunny missed the bus.

***

"How was school, sweetie?"

"Great, Mom. It was great."

Sunny threw her bag on the floor and ran to her room. She wasn't quite ready to be teased out of her skull, again. Just quietness. No more questions, please. But Lyssa was so good at reading red flags she was almost professional. Knock. Knock.

"Mom, everything's fine. I'm just tired today," she said. Sunny didn't want her mother to worry. She knew that if Lyssa found out that anyone was hurting Sunny, she would chase after them with a baseball bat down the street.

"Are you sure? You came home late." She opened the door all the way and found Sunny sitting on her bed. "What did we say about being late?" She crossed her arms.

"I'm sorry. I just had math club with Mrs. Lennie." Lyssa's face brightened at the thought of extracurriculars.

"Mrs. Lennie? Oh! Tell me about it."

"I... I don't want to talk right now."

"Oh..." There was a long pause.

"Yeah, Mom. Er, don't pack me lunch anymore." Lyssa's smile faded.

"Oh no, was it the thermos? I know you hate cold rice," she said. "I'm so sorry! I knew this thermos wasn't as good, it has a crack on the side and I debated on whether I should risk giving—"

"No, Mom... uh, the thermos is fine."

"Then what is it?" Lyssa's face scrunched into an ugly drip of confusion. Sunny pursed her lips.

"Um, the canteen. I want to try buying lunch. I looked at their menu today, looks delicious," she said, confident in her excuse.

"Is it my cooking?"

"Of course not, Mom. It's just that the rice gets soggy by lunchtime. Trust me, fresh food is the best kind of food." Lyssa was all for 'trying new things and so she agreed to her explanation and handed Sunny a stack of cash enough for the rest of the week. Sunny blinked thrice. Since when did lying feeling so natural?

"Do you want to watch a movie with us tonight?"

"A movie?"

"Yeah, you used to love them, I figured it has been long enough."

"I would love to... but it's just I have a math test tomorrow."

"Oh of course! Is it difficult? Do you need help?"

"No, it's fine. I just need quiet time to study."

"Oh, sweetie. Yes, you're right. You are so hardworking. I'll be downstairs if you need me. We can save the movie for after dinner."

The door shut behind her, and a buzz in her pocket. A buzz. Another one. And then a whole series of buzzes. Sunny took out her phone, pressed the red Instagram notification. It brought her to an account called Fishy Friday. 4976 followers. A new post. She clicked on it. Her mouth dropped. It's her.

It was Friday, and she was fishy. A crystal-clear photograph of her wrinkly little body rolled up into a ball on the floor of a cafeteria, completely unable to defend herself. Unfamiliar eyes everywhere. She refreshed the page. 30 likes. A minute later, she refreshed again. 104 likes and 3 comments. The first one was from Selena. Dog eater! It read. The rest were just as sardonic, humorously mocking her. Her eyes strained from the brightness. She was now fighting a digital war.

She had lost Selena. She had lost her reputation. She was losing everything. Time passed. All Sunny could focus on was the idiocy that read from her face, and the predicament she was attached to. Just because she liked lambs and not sandwiches, she deserved to be beaten like a piece of nothing. One little tricky word summed up her entire day: racism. She just sat there, hopeless and feeling more than muddled. Sunny never went down for the movie. Sunny never went down there at all.