20 Chapter XIX
Police Officer: Why was Sunny in the Principal's office?
Me: They touched her bruised peach when a teacher walked by.
***
Sunny sat on the edge of her bed, feeling particularly lonely, down, hollow. Tears were falling, yet not once did Sunny think to tell anyone about what was happening. Despondency made her explore her ways of survival. Introspections dried out, and new ones formed, and suddenly the night sky, which was decorated with a sheet of stars called to her.
She looked out the window, her blood waltzing. For a long time, this feeling was intangible. Sunny soon learned that it was called drive. Loneliness introduced her to any teenager's greatest inspiration—YouTube.
Sunny switched on her laptop and typed keywords: change, makeup, pretty, accepted, popular, white. It brought her to a world of make-up. The gurus greeted her, talked to her the same way they talked to millions— welcoming, kind, without hostility and antagonism. She felt normal, and that was precious. Sunny often replayed the introductions. To the mirror, she kidded about their enthusiasm, but really, she fed off of it. Sunny wished she looked like that.
The sorcery within their brushes transformed them into Barbie dolls. They evinced to Sunny, right before her eyes, that it was possible to turn an underdone outcast into a gorgeous idol.
Sunny learned how to use false lashes, paint nails, curl hair. She worshiped these gurus like a religion. When she finished with her 'smokey eye look', she paused in amazement. She looked sorta pretty. She sorta looked white. She took an Instagram picture and it got 583 likes and a wave of dings from Sunny's phone.
Jess: You look SO pretty.
Jess: We should hang out sometime! OMG!!
Tori: Damn. Chinese girl glew up.
Selena: YESSS. Finally!
Selena: You're welcome.
Sunny's phone couldn't go minutes without another vibrate indicating another one of someone else's approval. Sunny spent the next hour stalking their profiles. All were breathing embodiments of what Sunny was trying to create; pretty, popular, unreachable.
Helen: Guurrrrrl. What's your trick??
Josie: !!!!
Josie: There is no way she looks like that…
Devon: Are you okay Sunny?
Devon: You look great but I liked your eyes before.
Sunny stopped moving and her eyes and focused on the words they were saying. Sunny put down her phone. Bitch was just jealous.
***
Rumors found a way to spread like fireworks and once they infected the population like a virus, they give people a reason to test them. Boys noticed Sunny in the hallways and walking down those halls became dangerous. Whispers trailed behind her, laughter flew past her ears. They were innocent at first. Oh, she's pretty, look at her body. But then they got dirty real fast. It pushed Sunny to a point where she had no choice but to question herself— what was wrong with her?
Sunny was heading to third period when she shut the classroom door behind her and waved goodbye to Selena. Like Usual. She walked down the hall.
Whispers.
Quiet, louder, louder.
She turned around, her hands shuffled back and forth in her hair. But the buzz didn't stop. She was reminded of her old days. Devon. Pep rallies. She peeked over her shoulder. A group of boys filled with ironic smiles pointed down low. She ran through the possibilities. It had to be her jeans. They must have ripped.
She blamed herself for being too much like Lyssa— chasing price rather than quality. Her brain signaled her hand to block it before anybody saw more than they needed to. But, as if defending owned property, a hand, so fierce, got there before her. Sunny's ass, begging to let out a cry lay cupped in his monstrous hand. She dropped her books and smacked his hand away with her backhand.
"Best ass, right here in my hand," he laughed. "Whoooo!" The boys behind him laughed along. His breath came swooping over her shoulders and his smile lurked in her memories. His sexual assault was not a compliment.
The bell rang, saving her from any more shameful ignominy. She avoided his eyes. Sunny looked down at her feet.
"Chill, it was a dare, okay? Man, don't be all serious and shit," he said, with no sign of jokes or laughs, only the grin of untamed desire.
"Everybody's been saying how yummy you've become," he said. "I thought I'd come to see for myself. They weren't kidding huh." She didn't know how to respond. Her senses began wearing away with her thoughts. It was crazy to be so close to a boy she always looked at from a distance. After that, Sunny could attest to one thing — Cole was much hotter up close.
* * *
"Can you believe it? That fucking Chinese ass girl is touching my ex. MY EX." Selena was talking loud. Tate was lying on her stomach on Selena's pink bed sheets attempting to catch a good angle for a selfie.
"Mmh," she replied.
"Dude. We need to do something. I mean we can't just let HER have everything she wants. I mean, she would be nothing without us, right? The world is literally ending."
"Bruh. It's not like you didn't know this was going to happen. Cole can't keep his hands to himself." She paused, brought her phone down. "Or he has the capacity to do so, but just doesn't want to. Either way, you saw this coming."
"What are you saying?" said Selena. Tate brushed it off, picked up her phone, and started texting again. "Are you serious right now?" Selena stood up and snatched the phone out of her hand. The removal of electronics was the only way to get one's attention nowadays.
"What!"
"Why're you being like this. Helping that whore."
"I'm not," she said. "Just... I don't know why you're so triggered. You didn't care when it was Callie." Everybody knew that name was off-limits. Selena's eyes widened and within seconds, her hand was swinging in the air. Then she knocked Tate's pretty white face right in the center with a fist. She had these sudden bursts of energy where she was stronger than ever. Even stronger because of her new potato chip habit. The bloated Selena was vicious. Tate fought back, pulling the raging girl's blonde hair but Selena won when she kicked her out of the house.
"GIVE ME MY FUCKING PHONE BACK YOU BITCH!" Tate yelled barefoot on the driveway. Selena was at a dangerous stage of mad, and she was going to do something about it. With or without Tate.
***
Cole was quiet for the next few days. He understood that if he pushed her boundaries too far, Sunny would spill his secret. A week passed and Sunny was ready for stimulation again. Each time, he would use the magical word "beautiful" in his explanation and it would always make Sunny feel better. They were never closer; their relationship had been reduced to its primal essence—a whiplash, a grab, a devious stare over her body.
He left her less and less dignified, but more and more clueless. Day by day, the most renowned hockey player exploited Sunny's bottom— carried out his obsessive fetish on her, and left with a gloating laugh that screamed success. And Sunny let him do it because every day she got a hundred new followers.
Until one day, he was forced to stop. Ms. Lennie was making her way to the restroom when Colby was coming up behind her in preparation to act. He must've been so focused on doing this that he didn't hear the clicking of her heels. Next second, they were pulled into an office for questioning.
"This is ridiculous. What is it with teenagers doing messed up things at school nowadays?" She crossed her arms. "I need explanations. Tell me the truth, all of it, or neither of you are going anywhere." She might just as well have ordered a tree not to sway in the wind.
Colby wore a careless attitude, sat slouched on the couch. The principal walked in and stared at Sunny's spinning thoughts in search of something. When he didn't find what he was looking for, he sighed.
"Sunny. I don't understand. You were the golden kid." He paused. Glanced at his apple watch, then looked back up again. "I don't want to see you here a second time. You got it?" Sunny nodded with great seriousness.
"And Cole," he frowned. "I'm not going to punish you for hormones and puberty, but please, just try to stay sober and clean." Cole chuckled and under his breath mumbled an inappropriate retort. The principal turned and said to Sunny, "Go back to class, and don't ever come back." She vowed, unknowing that it wouldn't be too long before she would break that promise.
***
"How were exams?" Asked Lyssa.
"Fine," Sunny said, swiping through her feed.
"Must be stressful." Sunny never understood stress. The teachers here gave out A's like Halloween candy. Lyssa's phone dinged, and Sunny flew up the stairs.
She spent the rest of the day binging on Grey's anatomy and popcorn. It did occur to her to take out the textbook, but the urge was so weak, she neglected it as if it were an unimportant thing. Midway through season three, however, guilt got to her. Sunny, chewing on a cold kernel, stood up straighter. The image of her mother's red eyes began to haunt the part of her that thought education was only concerned with trivialities. She spat out a kernel and got up, determined.
***
Next week, Sunny's math grade came back an F. Cole turned around and said that their matching scores were a sign of compatibility. He winked. Sunny followed him into the halls. Nobody suspected anything.
