I went to the Board of Education to report our Grade Head. She used excessive corporal punishment, and I almost died. School became a living hell. I became a target for everyone, because I made them lose an "experienced" and "good" teacher. When he came back, I thought my dawn had arrived. I didn't expect him to be even crueler. He pinched my jaw, gritting his teeth. "You disgusted me for so long. Can't handle a little revenge?" Later, he held my waist tight, pulling me forcefully into his arms. Begging bitterly in my ear. "Stop playing with me, okay?" 1 The hallway between classes was full of laughter, sunlight splashing on every youthful face. I was the only one out of place, head lowered, walking with heavy steps towards the principal's office. Knock, knock, knock. No answer. I pushed the door open out of habit. The scene before me was as tense as a public shaming. The Dean of Students was surrounded by teachers from every subject in our grade. His square face, usually stern, looked exceptionally irritable today. His glasses slid down his bulbous nose a bit. Seeing me, his eyebrows shot up, eyes glaring, voice piercing the entire office. "You're Chloe Vance? Impressive. Do you know your Grade Head can't work here anymore because of you?" The teachers around him knew how to read the room, following suit, wishing they could kill me with their eyes. I kept my head down, picking at my fingers, letting him scream hysterically. "Mrs. Hayes was hired by our school for a huge sum! Experienced, with a college acceptance rate of 70% in her classes! And you, you ruined it all. All our efforts wasted." The Dean took a deep breath and exhaled, turning his back on me, too lazy to look. Seeing this, other teachers chimed in immediately, leaving no gaps, cursing me as if I were an unforgivable sinner. "Exactly. What teacher doesn't punish students? Making a mountain out of a molehill." "So capable, don't come to school then. Who would dare to manage you in the future?" I don't know how long it lasted. The Dean ended it with, "You're hopeless." He waved his hand at me, spitting out, "Get out." That tone— Like shooing away a dog. Maybe they saw I was unresponsive, or maybe they were tired of scolding. I didn't know, and I didn't want to know. Just like they only cared that Mrs. Hayes was fired under pressure from above, and couldn't even be bothered to mention that I lay in the ICU for a whole week. 2 The atmosphere inside was oppressive and chaotic. As soon as I stepped out, I greedily inhaled the fresh air drifting freely outside. Suddenly, a deafening boy's voice rang out from the office next door, echoing into the hallway. "Liam, catch!" Almost instantly, my nerves were pulled. I turned my head subconsciously. A boy caught a book flying towards him. He smirked at the office next door, looking triumphant. With that reckless and arrogant energy, I immediately pieced him together with the person deep in my memory who always grinned at me. 3 Five years ago, his family of three moved into the apartment above mine. Liam found me standing alone at my door late at night without a key. Without a word, he dragged me to his house for dinner. My mom left, my dad was busy working. I became a regular at his family's dinner table. Although I was a year older, I was sensitive and introverted. He was a social butterfly who could chat up a dog. Thanks to his tireless thick skin, for the first time ever, I had a real friend. He was exceptionally good to me. Sometimes he would give up playing basketball with a group of friends just to walk home with me, the loner. So rumors started spreading in school that he liked me. The short-haired girls who liked to form cliques couldn't sit still. They cornered me after school, mocking and sarcastic. "Look in the mirror. Do you think you deserve him?" "Who gave you the confidence?" I dared not conflict, because there was no one behind me. To put it bluntly, no backer. I lowered my head and tried to leave. It was Liam who grabbed me, followed by a group of boys who just finished playing ball. His shirt front was slightly damp, holding a basketball, a lazy smile on his lips. "I think you look like a potato, but aren't you quite confident too?" "You!" The short-haired girl turned red with anger at being insulted by a boy younger than her, unable to utter a sentence for a long time. "You you you, you what?" "Go home and eat your brains, you can't even speak properly." In those days, I experienced the security of being carefully guarded, although brief. 4 Finally having the chance to see him again, I wanted to tell him all the unspeakable grievances. I frantically contacted students from the middle school section, but they told me. In the entire ninth grade... There wasn't even anyone with the last name Sterling.

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