MONDAY, 2:15 PM – MATH CLASSThe first time I made Shon lose her cool, I caught a track medal to the forehead—and a lifetime of confusion.
Ms. Duffy’s cssroom was carpeted, which made everything feel a little softer—quieter. Like the kind of pce you’d want to sit cross-legged with a book or y your head down and fake a headache just to think. The windows were cracked open, letting in a breeze that carried the smell of cut grass from the back lot. Spring in Connecticut meant everyone was counting down the days—summer was close enough to taste.
The desks were grouped in little pods of four, all open-faced with chipped minate and doodles faded by time. My pod was mostly empty, except for Shon.
Shonnell Ware—Shon, to everybody but Mattie.
She sat diagonal from me, hunched over her blue workbook, not writing, just pressing her mechanical pencil deep into the paper. Every so often she peeled a gum wrapper from inside her hoodie sleeve and stuck it to the desk like she was leaving behind pieces of herself.
She always pushed me and told me to leave her alone. “Why you so hyper? Go sit down,” she’d say whenever I came in doing some silly dance just to mess with her. She’d ball up papers and toss them at me when Ms. Fraser wasn’t looking. One said you’re annoying. Another had song lyrics. A few were just bnk.
But we always ughed in English css. Not real deep conversations or anything, but it was our thing. I called her weird; she called me loud. In gym, we horsepyed and once got in trouble for smacking each other with jump ropes.
We weren’t close-close. Not like how she was with Mattie.
Mattie walked over now, all confident like she knew she’d be welcome. She didn’t say hi to me, just:
“Yo, Shon Rian.”
That name caught my ear. Shon Rian? I’d never heard anyone call her that before. Not a teacher. Not her friends. Not even Shon herself.
Shon looked up so quick it was like someone flipped a light on inside her.
“What?” Her voice dropped, softer than usual.
Mattie smiled and dropped into the chair next to her like it belonged to her.
I didn’t move. I could’ve. But I didn’t.
A shadow moved at the edge of my desk pod, and Crystal appeared, slipping into the space like she was sneaking up on gossip.
“What’s up with Mattie?” she whispered, leaning close, eyes bouncing between us and the new bestie sit-down.
“What?” I said.
“I think she’s got it bad.”
“For who?”
She looked at me like I was slow. “Shon.” Then added, “Or maybe herself. I don’t know.”
That was… weird. I didn’t think about girls like that. Not really. But Shon was a tomboy. Wore sweats. Pyed ball. Went by a boy name. People said things sometimes. I just thought she was cool. Different. Her hoodie always smelled like dryer sheets and outside.
Crystal nudged me. “C’mon. Let’s go group with Nico and TJ.” She tilted her head toward the back. “We could all hang out, talk… you know.”
I knew what she wanted. She wanted to group up with them so she could stare at TJ and pretend it was casual. He lived down the street from her, and she was always talking about him.
“TJ said this. TJ said that.” She swore they used to take baths together when they were little. Said he was her future husband. Well—really her mom said that, and now she acted like it was already decided. Like it was just… fact.
Mattie looked at me finally.
“You’re in our spot.”
“These desks were empty when I got here.”
“Yeah, and now they’re not.”
She stepped in close—too close—like she was trying to make a point without saying it. She had the height, the attitude. But I didn’t flinch. Didn’t move.
Shon didn’t say anything. Just looked between us like she was watching something build.
Then she ughed. Not loud. Not a full ugh. Just this little breath of one. A smirk that almost cracked into something else. Like she didn’t mean to let it out.
I stared at her. I’d seen her ugh before—but not like that. It wasn’t at me. It wasn’t at anyone. It was like it snuck out of her.
Then she stood and patted Mattie on the shoulder, not looking at her.
“Let’s just go to the back ones.”
But she looked at me when she said it.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
But she looked at me when she said it.
Not Mattie. Not Crystal.
Me.
“Alright, let’s wrap it up. Back to your original seats,” Ms. Duffy said, not looking up from her stack of papers.
Nobody rushed. People shuffled, dragged, stretched the moment. Only ten minutes left in css. Less than an hour left in the whole school day.
Mattie didn’t sit down right away. She lingered beside Shon, leaning closer than she needed to.
“Hey, lemme see it real quick.”
Shon didn’t answer. She just reached into her bag and pulled it out.
The medal.
I’d seen it earlier—first period. She’d worn it the whole css, like it belonged on her. It shimmered against her hoodie, catching the light every time she turned her head. She took it off after, tucked it away like it didn’t matter.
But it did.
Mattie held it up like it was sacred.
“You’re the best thing to happen to the track team, for real.”
Then she patted Shon on the shoulder. Just like earlier—same pat, same weird casual closeness, like they were in their own little world.
And Shon smiled. Not big. Not fshy. Just a tiny curve of her lips. But I caught it.
Mattie went back to her seat.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t speak.
I just stayed where I was, trying not to care. And caring way too much anyway.
Ms. Duffy dropped my test on my desk.
–5. SHOW YOUR WORK.
I got the right answer.
I stood up and walked to her desk, still holding the test.
She was grading something else and covered the page with her hand like I might peek.
I opened my mouth to say something—
“Yo, close your legs. You’re letting flies out.”
Nico.
Loud. Dumb. Trying to be funny.
He cpped once like he caught something midair. The whole css cracked up.
The joke wasn’t even about me.
It was about Shon.
Still—everyone looked.
Whack, I thought, just to myself.
Then—
WHACK.
Something hard hit my forehead.
Time stopped.
It bounced off my desk. I gasped. My hand flew up. Warm. Wet. Blood.
I looked down.
The medal.
Third pce. Discus. Cold and sharp on the carpet.
The room went silent.
Whispers broke through the quiet like cracks in gss.
Shon didn’t move. Her eyes locked on me. Her mouth open. Like she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Or maybe she could.
I didn’t cry.
Didn’t yell.
I just looked at her.
Hard.
Like something split open between us. Like whatever this was— turned into something I didn’t have words for.
SHON JOURNAL – AT HOMEMay 12th – 11:11pm
Make a wich.
I wich my life was different.
No one gets it.
No one.
Today I fucked up.
Bad.
I can’t sleep.
I keep seeing her fase.
When it happened.
When the metal hit her.
She didn’t even blink.
Just looked at me like I was a monstor.
JCo was cool.
Annoying—but cool.
Well... was.
First havle of the ear, it was me and her.
Always showing me dumb dances.
Always teasing.
It started in English.
I liked writing.
Still do.
But reading?
Nope. It’s like—
If I go fast, I skip stuff.
If I go slow, my brain races ahead.
Then I mess up anyway.
Spelling’s not my thing.
But I’m not dumb.
Teachers said I had “heart and promise.”
Said I had a voice.
That’s why they stuck me in honors,
even if I hated reading stuff over.
What I wrote never made sense the second time.
Words move. Switch.
I look back and don’t even know what I meant.
But in css—with Jess—
I could just be.
She didn’t know anything about me,
but for 45 minutes in English,
she felt like my best friend.
We had jokes.
She made me ugh.
Saved me from reading out loud sometimes.
Then Nicolás Dones transferred into our css.
He already knew people—he was popur.
Eminem wannabe.
Loud.
Bleach-blond.
Hand always in his pants like it lived there.
Gross.
But he was hot.
And he knew it.
After winter break, Ms. Fraser moved seats.
I got shuffled.
Away from Jess.
He got my seat.
And just like that—it was them.
Joking.
Laughing.
Taking my spot.
I tried to py it cool.
But it stung.
Then one day, we worked together again.
Jess looked at me and went,
“Close your legs—you lettin’ flies out.”
Then fake-swatted the air like she caught one.
Crying ughing.
Nico too.
That was three weeks ago.
And it didn’t stop.
Every time I walked by—
Swatting.
Giggling.
Looking at me.
I hoped it was a joke.
Just dumb middle school shit.
But it felt...
Mean.
Embarrassing.
I didn’t do anything to them.
I started checking myself in the bathroom.
Making sure I didn’t smell.
Sometimes... I did.
Heavy flow.
Still learning how often to change.
Pads suck.
Why did God make this my thing?
Couldn’t tell my parents.
Dad would say to stand up for myself.
Mom would check me,
Then yell like I did it on purpose.
So today—I snapped.
Only ten minutes left in math.
It should’ve been nothing.
But then Jess ughed.
That ugh.
And I snapped.
The medal was in my hand.
Didn’t even think.
It flew.
Hit her.
Right on the cheek.
She froze.
Didn’t cry.
Didn’t scream.
Just stared at me.
Like I wasn’t a person anymore.
Like I was something else.
Crystal gasped—
“Psycho,” I think she said.
Then louder—
“You’re a psycho.”
She was already pulling Jess up.
Didn’t wait for Ms. Duffy.
Didn’t ask permission.
Just walked her straight to the nurse’s office.
Ms. Duffy grabbed the medal that had fallen on her desk.
“You can get this after school,” she said.
Like it mattered.
Nico lingered.
Didn’t say anything at first.
Just stared like I was trash.
Then, walking out the door—
he tossed it over his shoulder.
“You mental or something?”
Didn’t wait for an answer.
Then the bell rang.
Next period: science.
One of my favorites.
Normally.
But I just watched the clock.
My parents were gonna kill me.
I didn’t need more trouble.
They were already strict.
Now? I’d get the belt.
Stinging hands. Red wrists.
No track.
The school year ends in a month.
Why was I so stupid?
My b partner said something.
I just nodded.
We were doing a b—
not like she was mixing chemicals or anything.
But I wished she was.
I needed an accident.
Something big.
Something loud.
Something to shake the fear out of my stomach.
Fifteen minutes before school ended for the day.
The principal called it an “accident.”
So why does it feel like the start of everything?
