C11 Chapter Eleven

"Bella, can we talk?" Jedd asks me the moment I get home from school. He's sat on the bottom step of the stairs, hands resting on his knees. I shake my head immediately, needing my own space right now.

"Not now Jedd, maybe later." I reply quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I quickly scurry past him and up the stairs, desperate to hide myself away in my room. I hear him sigh behind me but I ignore it and carry on heading towards my room. As soon as I enter, my eyes land on the pile of workout clothes on the floor from yesterday evening. The voice in my head is telling me I should look past it and go back to the gym but the humiliation is still red raw.

Instead I step out of my clothes and pull over my pyjamas. My body instantly relaxes from the small ounce of relief. I grab my laptop from underneath my bed and turn it on, settling myself down into bed. Netflix is the first recommended website on the screen and I grin at my laptop, it knows me so well. I browse over the recommended movie list, my stress from the day disappearing.

Time to drift off into someone else's love story. . .

I'm five minutes into my second romantic movie when my phone pings, signalling an incoming text. I frown and begin to search for it around the room. Eventually I find it lying on the floor next to my school bag, the screen lit up brightly.

Who is texting me at 7pm in the evening?

The only people I ever receive texts from are Dad and Jedd.

I warily check the screen, reading a text from a number I don't recognise. I don't know what it is about unknown numbers but they seriously freak me out. It could be anyone on the other end and I really don't fancy staring a conversation with Freddy Kruger.

As I read the text, my heart begins to beat a little faster —

How does it feel being fat and a mute? You must hate yourself so much.

I instantly throw my phone down onto my bed, causing it to bounce and fall straight to the floor. My heart begins racing and tears prick the back of my eyes. Through my blurred vision I see my workout clothes on the floor and I lung for them, stripping my clothes off and throwing them on.

There's no doubt about who the culprit is . . . Beatrice.

How did she manage to get my number?

An overwhelming feeling fills my chest and I breathe in sharply, reminding myself to breathe. I can't let Beatrice tear me down. . .

Part of me argues back that she already has.

*****

Focus on your legs Bella. . . Don't fall again.

I'm back on the treadmill but this time I keep my eyes on the speed. If I feel like I can't handle it, I slow down. I desperately attempt to zone myself out but it just isn't working. All I can think about is Beatrice and her friends, mocking me on stage. Laughing at me along with the rest of the class. My heart physically hurts from being the victim of Beatrice's latest sick joke. I'm not a toy, I have feelings and emotions just like everyone else. It feels like Beatrice is breaking pieces of me until finally she throws me into the gutter.

Bile rises to the back of my throat and my stomach begins churning nauseously. I turn the treadmill off using the emergency button and kneel over, focusing on keeping my breathing regular.

"Just breathe Bella, are you feeling alright?"

I turn to lock eyes with Brody who's looking down at me, concerned. He's wearing a grey gym shirt with a black jacket over the top. The shirt clings to his stomach that looks incredibly toned underneath. A part of me screams inside that Brody is talking to me again but another part of me is actually screaming in pain.

I nod quickly, stepping off the treadmill and sitting down on the edge. My legs wobble slightly and I grasp my hands together to stop them from shaking.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale," Brody says firmly, squatting down beside me. I'm instantly hit with a waft of his scent and once again, I feel my head spinning.

"I don't feel so good," I mutter, standing up slowly. I head for the gym doors, feeling the room and walls rotate around in my vision. I groan and hold on to my head, pushing back the door and leaning against the cool wall. The door opens again and Brody is back in front of me, green eyes searching mine.

"Bella?"

He takes a step forward and holds my hands that are shaking uncontrollably. If I didn't feel so ill, I'd be internally screaming but all I can think about right now is the most humiliating drama lesson of my life.

"Go away, p-please just leave me alone." I whisper, my voice wobbling. A tear escapes my eye, running down my cheek.

How can they do that to me? Do that to any human being?

I've never felt so belittled and beaten down in my entire life. I stumble down the corridor, holding onto the wall and using it as a guide through my blurred vision. Everything begins to double up and that's the moment I realise I'm in trouble.

"Here let me help you."

I hear Brody's low rumble of a voice, faded and distant. His hands suddenly snake around my waist, steadying me. My eyes widen and I felt my stomach twist in knots, making me want to hurl.

"Get your hands off me," I protest, shoving his hands away from me. My head reels in pain and I feel my knees weaken, threatening to crash underneath me. Beads of sweat drip down my forehead and I let out a small whimper, wanting no-one but my brother.

"Bella, please let me help you." Brody pleads with me, green eyes full of concern.

"Jedd, I want Jedd." I murmur, my legs giving out underneath me. I lose control of my body, the mocking sound of Beatrice's voice taunting my mind.