On my way home, limping from another day of bullying, I found a notebook. No name, no label. I used it as a diary, writing down everything they did to me. One day, the notebook wrote back. [Go to Lincoln High School. Find Jace Miller. He'll help you.] July 26, 2009. Wednesday. Overcast. [Today, Chloe and Sarah held me down on broken glass.] [They made me kneel on it.] [They tore my clothes and took photos.] [I cried and begged, but it didn't help. It only made them worse.] [By the time they were done, my throat was raw from screaming, and every inch of my body hurt.] [I told my parents, crying. They said we're poor. We can't afford a better life. We can't offend them because their families are rich.] [They have parents to protect them. Even the teachers and the principal listen to them.] [Why don't I have that?] [I don't want to be bullied anymore. I want someone to protect me too.] I traced the bloodstains and tear marks on the paper. I put down the pen. My knees were screaming in pain. Even the ointment my mom applied stung like fire. Suddenly, the notebook moved. Words appeared on the page, ink bleeding into the paper. [Stop crying. Go to Lincoln High School, senior class, room 3. Find Jace Miller. He can protect you.] I stared blankly at the words. It wasn't a hallucination. The handwriting was bold and sharp, like a boy's. I picked up my pen and wrote: [Who are you?] [It doesn't matter who I am. Just find Jace. He'll help you.] [Oh wait, it's 2009. Remember to tell him one thing.] [What thing?] I wrote. [Tell him: "No more cake."] I stared at the line, utterly confused. If not for the constant, throbbing pain in my knees, I would have thought I was dreaming. I wrote more questions, but the notebook didn't reply again. Chapter 2 The next day, I got on the 952 bus. The notebook was in my backpack. This wasn't the way to my school. I was going to Lincoln High. Just to see. To try. When you're desperate, you grab onto any hope, no matter how faint. The words in the notebook were my only lifeline. Before I left, I slipped a small folding knife into my bag. Lincoln High wasn't far from my school, Eastside High. It was the best school in the district. I walked right in. Our uniforms looked similar enough that the security guard didn't stop me. I stumbled around until I found the senior classrooms. Room 3. "Who you looking for?" A boy standing by the door eyed me curiously. I gripped my backpack straps tight, head down. "I'm looking for Jace Miller." "Jace ain't here. Try later, sis." He turned to go back inside. I grabbed his arm in a panic. "Wait... can you tell me where he is? It's urgent." The boy looked at my desperate face and hesitated. "It's early. Jace probably pulled an all-nighter gaming. Check the diner on the back street behind the school." I bowed quickly. "Thank you." The boy stepped back, waving his hand. "Uh, yeah, no problem." I followed his directions to the back street. It was a long strip lined with shops. I watched the students passing by, wanting to turn and run with every step. Coming here based on a magical notebook was insane. Impulsive. I wondered if I was losing my mind. But then I remembered Chloe dragging me by my hair into the boys' bathroom. The shame. The fear. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I was already here... even if the hope was tiny, I had to try. I found the diner on the corner. A few students were eating inside. In the corner sat a boy with bleached blond hair. He looked like trouble. I pinched the hem of my shirt and walked up to the group of students. "Excuse me... do you know Jace Miller?" They looked confused. Then, the blond boy in the corner looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. "What do you want?" Chapter 3 I froze. This guy... he was wearing a t-shirt, had a tattoo on his neck, and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Even with the scar, which most would call a disfigurement, he was unfairly good-looking. The scar just made him look dangerous. But good looks aside... he didn't look like a Lincoln High student. Jace leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, expression mocking. He looked exactly like what my teachers called a "delinquent." I instinctively wanted to leave, but I remembered the notebook. Would he really help me? "Cat got your tongue?" Jace took a bite of noodles, then glanced at me. "If you got nothing to say, get lost. You're interrupting my breakfast." I gritted my teeth, walked over, and sat opposite him. Under his scrutinizing gaze, I stammered. "I... I'm being bullied. Someone told me you could help..." "Tch." Jace laughed before I could finish. "You got the wrong guy. Help you? Who the hell told you to find me?" "Everyone at Lincoln knows I'm the one who does the bullying." "Go back and cut ties with whoever sent you. They're pranking you." I bit my lip, remembering the notebook's instruction. "He said... if I told you one thing, you'd help me." "What thing?" "He said to tell you: No more cake." Jace froze mid-bite. He looked up, his eyes suddenly cold and sharp. I shrank back in fear. Just as I thought he might hit me, he stood up and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Let's go." I blinked. "Where?" "You wanted help, right? I'll go kill them for you. How's that?" Jace looked back at me. My scalp went numb. I waved my hands frantically. "I... I just wanted protection... not to kill them..." "Oh." Jace nodded. He raised his right arm, and I noticed a delicate, feminine watch on his wrist. "How do you want me to protect you? Bodyguard style?" He turned back, silhouetted against the light. He grinned. It was a nice smile. I opened my mouth but couldn't make a sound. Chapter 4 Jace walked me to the gate of Eastside High. Just seeing the school made my heart clench like a fist. I couldn't breathe. "Wait for me. Half a day," Jace said, running a hand through his hair. He turned and walked away. I gritted my teeth and walked into school, head down. The security guard eyed me. "Exams are coming up. Stop hanging around with those thugs." I didn't reply. In the hallway, every student who brushed past me made my skin crawl. I was terrified of contact. When I walked into the classroom, the noise died instantly. Chloe turned around and laughed. "Oh, look who it is. Zoe! I thought you were too scared to show up today!" Her laugh made my body lock up. Fear flooded my veins. "Why are you standing in the doorway? Get in!" The homeroom teacher shoved me from behind. I stumbled into the room. "Exams are almost here! Stop wasting time!" she yelled at the class. I sat in the back row. Chloe turned around immediately. She gave me a cold, dead stare. I saw her mouth the words clearly. "Wait till after school." ... I rubbed the cover of my textbook, watching the clock tick. Every second that passed, my heart sank deeper. The nightmare... was coming back. I pulled the notebook from my bag and looked at the conversation. I thought of Jace. Would he come back? The bell rang. School was out. The teacher dropped a perfunctory "Study hard" and left. Chloe stood up and looked at me. Jace didn't come. I thought desperately. No one was going to protect me.
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