Moving to Tommen had been both the best and worst decision of your life.

On one hand, you’d found a place where people actually seemed to want you around. You had made a lot of new friends who welcomed you like family, not just acquaintances. Nights out weren’t a rare thing anymore; you were actually living. And, somehow, you had even started seeing someone—Johnny Kavanagh.

For a big rugby lad, Johnny was gentleness personified when it came to you. He held doors, carried your heavy bags, even waited patiently when you took forever to decide what to order. And, honestly, that was kind of the problem.

He had an ex… well, technically, not an ex. Just a hook-up from months ago, nothing serious. But that hadn’t stopped Bella from claiming him anyway.

When you came into the picture, Bella made it very clear she wasn’t happy.

At first, it was just comments. Little jabs here and there. “Oh, look who thinks they can steal Johnny.” “You really like him, huh? Cute.” You could handle that. You’d dealt with it before at your old school.

Then came the so-called “accidents.” A shove in the hallway, a bag thrown carelessly at you, a bump that was “just clumsy.”

The longer you were with Johnny, the worse it became. Until one day…

You were alone in the toilets. Just you. Bella and her crew had been circling, waiting for a chance to strike. And when the door clicked shut behind you, there was no escape.

“Finally,” Bella sneered. “Thought you’d hide forever, didn’t you?”

“Bella… I don’t want any trouble,” you said, stepping back, hands slightly raised.

“Oh, this isn’t trouble,” she said, tilting her head with a wicked smile. “This is justice.”

Her friends flanked you, cutting off the exit. You felt a knot in your stomach tighten as they closed in.

“Justice for what? Johnny’s mine,” Bella hissed, advancing.

“Johnny’s… not yours,” you tried to argue, but your voice sounded small, fragile even, compared to her booming tone.

Then the first hit came. Not a shove, not a “clumsy bump.” A proper swing aimed right at you. Pain exploded across your cheek. Her nails raked your skin, leaving a red scratch down your face and splitting your lip.

Your ears rang. You barely registered the yelling, the cursing, the mocking. Only the sharp sting, the heat of blood on your skin, the pounding in your chest.

“Leave them alone!” a voice shouted. And suddenly, Claire, Lizzie, and Shannon were there, dragging Bella and her friends off you.

You stumbled, barely catching yourself against the sink. One of them—Claire, you think—pressed a cold compress to your face. The ice bit against your swollen skin, soothing the sting, but not the humiliation, not the fear.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to make sense of it all. The split lip, the scratches—proof that moving here, meeting Johnny, having friends, wasn’t the fairy tale you had imagined.

“You okay?” Lizzie asked gently, still holding your shoulder.

You nodded weakly, biting back tears. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine.”

But even as the words left your mouth, a part of you knew this wasn’t over.