CHAPTER FIVE

I stepped into the house, fatigue settling heavily on my shoulders. My backpack dropped onto the sofa, a silent testament to the long day I had endured. I headed straight for the kitchen, craving something to eat before retreating to my room. There, I planned to call Cassidy to tell him all about the day's events and seek his advice on the the encounter with Tennyson.

I opened the refrigerator and peered inside; a few chocolate bars, two apples, a bucket of ice cream, and a sachet of cheese lay inside. Not much to work with. I made a mental note to tell Aunt Cheryl that our food supplies were running low. Pulling out an apple, I washed it under the tap, and reached for a knife from the rack.

Before my fingers could close around the handle, a slender hand shot out and slapped mine away. I sighed, recognizing the familiar irritation that was Tricia. Of course she would hear about the incident in the hallway before the day was over and, as always, her reaction was less than pleasant.

In this world, there are two types of people: the strong and the weak. The strong have the power to dominate, thrive, or succeed, while the weak succumb to pressure and limitations. I had never been one to be bullied. I faced life head-on and never tolerated unfair treatment. Yet, I knew my place in this household. Acting foolishly would risk my stability, and I was determined to survive. Life, I reminded myself, is made up of seasons, and right now I was enduring a season of weakness. I could lie to everyone else, but never to myself.

Tricia's gaze was as sharp as ever as she sized me up, her arms folded across her chest. "Well, well, well. If it isn't little miss wanna-be. I heard you got an invite to the party next Friday." She snatched the apple from my hand and took a loud bite, her smile a cruel taunt.

I remained silent, maintaining a neutral expression. "I hope you know you're not going to that party. Don't even think about it, you bitch," she sneered.

Raising an eyebrow, as I replied, "I was invited, so it's my choice whether I go or not. Look, Tricia, I have no issues with you. I get that living here is inconvenient for you, but that doesn't mean you get to treat me like a servant. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't treat you like this. I keep quiet because I don't like drama. Let's just stay out of each other's way, deal?" Without waiting for her response, I walked away, ignoring her shouts and the harsh words flung after me.

Once in my room, I locked the door behind me and could still hear her yelling my name, threatening to ruin the party for me if she found me there. Her threats only steeled my resolve. I was determined to go to that party now; it was high time I started standing up for myself.

After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I changed into pajamas and pulled out my phone. I wasn't much of a phone person—perhaps because I didn't have many friends. A whole day could pass without me checking it. But Cassidy was different. He was the exception. He always texted good morning and would give me and itinerary of his day. Today, however, there was no message from him.

I tried calling him on FaceTime. It rang but went unanswered. I sent him a simple "where you at?" Text. He was online, as indicated by the two ticks on my message, but there was no reply. Growing worried, I called again. This time, he answered, I positioned my face in the frame hoping to get my best angel on the camera,his remained off.

"Hi, B," I greeted, trying to sound cheerful.

He didn't respond immediately. I wondered if it was a network issue and was about asking when his voice, hoarse and strained, finally came through. "Uh, Rain, this isn't a good time. Can I call you back later?"

"Sure," I said, though concern gnawed at me. The call ended abruptly, and a text followed moments later. "So Amaya isn't cool with the fact that we talk every day, and she doesn't want us to be so close. She says we can still be friends but not talk every day. I'm with her now and will text you when I can. Sleep well."

The words on my screen felt like a punch to the gut. I hadn't cried since the day my parents died, not even at their funeral or during the bullying from my cousins. But Cassidy was different. He was a part of my life, a piece of me. To think he might cast aside our years of friendship for someone he had just met was unbearable.

I turned off my phone, clutching a pillow to my chest as tears streamed down my face. My sobs were muffled by the pillow, but the pain was sharp, and the tears kept flowing like a dam broken by an unrelenting storm. Eventually, exhaustion overcame me, and I fell into a restless sleep, comforted only by the warmth of my dream.

The days that followed were uneventful and heavy with silence. It had been three days since Cassidy's last message, and I was coming to terms with the possibility of losing him for good. School was routine, and though Ceecee tried to understand, she couldn't get me to open up. Aunt Cheryl also noticed the change in me.

One evening, while we prepared dinner together in the kitchen, she spoke up. "I see the way the girls treat you. I've noticed their behavior and the looks they give you. I've tried talking to them about it, but it only seems to make things worse. I may not be around much, but I'm observant. Don't let them bring you down. You're special. If it gets too much, let me know, okay?"

I nodded, understanding her intentions and the fact that she could not do much due to with her demanding job. The girls' behavior was bothersome but manageable for now.

"Hey, Aunt Cheryl," I said hesitantly.

She looked up.

"Am I allowed to go for a party next Friday?"

She thought for a moment. "You can go, but be home before midnight."

I smiled, appreciating her support. We finished preparing dinner in silence, and I realized that I had come to cherish Aunt Cheryl more than I initially thought.