On the way home from another day of bullying, I found a notebook with no name on it. I decided to use it as a diary, writing down the hell I was going through. Suddenly, the notebook wrote back. “Go to Northside High. Find Luke Vance. He will help you.” 1 July 26, 2009. Wednesday. Overcast. Today, Chloe and Jessica forced me to kneel on broken glass. They tore my clothes. They took photos. I cried and begged, but it didn't matter. It only made them worse. My throat is raw from screaming, and there isn’t a single part of me that doesn’t hurt. I cried to my parents, but they said we're poor. We can't afford a better life. We can't offend them because their families have money. They have parents who protect them. Even the teachers and the principal listen to them. Why don't I? I don't want to be bullied anymore. I want someone to protect me too. I ran my fingers over the bloodstains and tear marks on the page. I put down the pen. My knees were throbbing. The iodine my parents applied stung just as bad. Suddenly, the notebook moved. Words began to appear on the paper. “Don't cry. Go to Northside High, Senior Class 3. Find Luke Vance. He can protect you.” I stared blankly at the words forming before my eyes. It wasn't a hallucination. The handwriting was bold and forceful, like a boy's. I picked up my pen and wrote: “Who are you?” “Doesn't matter. Just find Luke. He'll help you.” “Oh wait, it's 2009. You need to tell him something specific.” “What?” I wrote. “Tell him: ‘I won't eat cake ever again.’” I stared at the sentence, completely confused. If the physical pain wasn't so sharp, I would have thought I was dreaming. After that, no matter what I wrote, the notebook didn't reply. 2 The next day, I got on the 952 bus. The notebook was in my bag. This wasn't the route to my school. I was going to Northside High. Just to see. To try. When you're desperate, you grasp at anything, no matter how ridiculous. The words in the notebook were my only hope. Before leaving, I slipped a folding knife into my bag. Northside High wasn't far from my school, Eastside High. It was the best high school in the state. I got off the bus and walked straight in. Luckily, we were all high schoolers, and the uniforms looked similar enough. Security didn't stop me. I stumbled my way to the senior hallway and found Class 3. "Who are you looking for?" A boy standing by the door asked curiously. I gripped my backpack straps, keeping my head down. "I'm looking for Luke Vance." "Luke's not here. Try again later, kid." He turned to go back inside, but I grabbed his arm. "Wait... can you tell me where he is? It's urgent." The boy hesitated, seeing how anxious I was. "At this time? Probably still awake from an all-nighter at the internet cafe. Try the breakfast joint on the street behind the school." I bowed quickly. "Thank you." The boy stepped back, waving his hands. "Whoa, no need for that." Following his directions, I found the street behind the school. It was bustling with vendors. I watched the students passing by, wanting to turn and run a hundred times. Coming here based on a magical notebook? Impulsive. Maybe I was losing my mind. But then the memories of them dragging me by my hair into the boys' bathroom flashed in my mind. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I was already here. Even the smallest hope was worth a shot. I spotted the breakfast joint on the corner. A few students in uniform were eating inside. In the corner sat a boy with bleached blonde hair. He looked like a delinquent. I twisted the hem of my shirt and walked up to a group of students. "Excuse me... do you know Luke Vance?" They paused. Suddenly, the blonde boy in the corner looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. "Why are you looking for me?" 3 I froze. Short sleeves. A tattoo on his neck. A scar across the bridge of his nose. Even with the scar, which most would call a disfigurement, he was unfairly handsome. It just added a dangerous edge to his look. But handsome or not... He definitely didn't look like a model student at a top high school. Luke leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, looking reckless. Just like the "bad news" teachers warned us about. I instinctively wanted to run. Then I remembered the notebook. Would he really help me? "Cat got your tongue?" Luke slurped some noodles, then glared at me. "If you got nothing to say, get lost. You're ruining my appetite." I gritted my teeth, walked over, and sat opposite him. Under his scrutiny, I stammered, "I... I'm being bullied. Someone told me you could help..." "Hah." Luke scoffed before I could finish. "You got the wrong guy. Help you? Who the hell told you to find me? Everyone at Northside knows I'm the one doing the bullying." "Go back and cut ties with whoever told you that. They're messing with you." I bit my lip, remembering the notebook. "He said... if I told you one sentence, you'd help me." "What sentence?" "Tell him: 'I won't eat cake ever again.'" Luke froze mid-bite. He looked up, his gaze turning ice cold. I shrank back in fear. Just as I thought he might hit me, he stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Let's go." I blinked. "Where?" "You wanted help, right? I'll go kill them for you. Good?" He looked back at me. My scalp tingled. I waved my hands frantically. "I... I just wanted protection, not murder..." "Oh." Luke nodded. He raised his arm, and I noticed he was wearing a watch that looked like a woman's style. "How do you want protection? Bodyguard style? 24/7?" He turned back, the sunlight catching his grin. It was beautiful. I opened my mouth but couldn't say a word. 4 Luke walked me to the gate of Eastside High. Seeing the school made my chest tighten like a giant hand was squeezing it. I couldn't breathe. "Wait here a sec." Luke ruffled his hair and walked off. I gritted my teeth and walked through the gate. The security guard glanced at me. "Exams are coming up. Stop hanging around with those thugs." I didn't answer. In the hallway, every student passing by made my skin crawl. I flinched at every accidental touch. When I entered the classroom, the noise died instantly. Chloe turned around and snickered. "Oh, look, Maya’s here! I thought you wouldn't dare show up today." Her laugh made my body go rigid. Fear flooded my veins. "What are you doing standing there? Get in!" The teacher shoved me from behind. I stumbled to my seat. "Exams are around the corner! Focus!" the teacher barked. My seat was in the back row. As soon as I sat down, Chloe turned around. She gave me a look of pure malice. I saw her mouth the words clearly. "Don't leave after school." ... I rubbed the cover of my textbook, watching the seconds tick by. Every second, my heart sank lower. The nightmare... was coming back. I pulled the notebook out of my bag and reread the conversation. I thought of Luke. Would he come back? The bell rang. School was out. "Focus on your studies!" the teacher reminded us one last time before leaving. Chloe stood up and turned to face me. Luke didn't come. I thought despairingly. No one is going to protect me. 5 Chloe cornered me. "Little bitch, you told the teacher, didn't you?" She kicked me. I fell to the floor. Pain shot through me, bringing a cold sweat. "I... I didn't tell anyone." "Bullshit." Jessica walked up behind Chloe, glaring at me. "If you didn't tell, why did the teacher call me to the office?" "Little bitch, you didn't learn your lesson yesterday?" Jessica grabbed my hair. From pain to numbness, I knelt on the floor, tears streaming down my face. They seemed to enjoy my suffering. "Scream louder!" Jessica pulled a black plastic bag from her backpack. She shook it in front of my terrified face, laughing. A crunching sound came from inside. "Kneeling didn't teach you enough yesterday. Today, you eat it." I realized instantly. The bag was full of broken glass. "No!" I scrambled up and shoved Chloe hard. Then I ran like my life depended on it. "You bitch! You dare push me?!" Before I could reach the door, a hand grabbed my hair and dragged me back toward the boys' bathroom. "Run! Keep running!" Jessica pried my mouth open. Chloe opened the bag, ready to pour the glass down my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut in terror and despair. Praying for it to be over quickly. I trembled, waiting for the pain. But it never came. "You dare touch my person?" A familiar voice. I opened my eyes. Through the blur of tears, I saw Luke. He had dyed his hair black and changed into our school uniform. A cigarette dangled from his lips. He crushed the cigarette against the wall.
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