Embarrassed Under the Bed

The night Nate skipped class to meet the girl who broke me, I was trapped downstairs, forced to listen to every sound. "Does Leila do this for you?" A low grunt from him, then his sharp voice as he gripped her chin. "Stella, if Leila ever finds out, you're dead." Stella laughed, a sound like broken glass, before her lips met his. "Then I’ll die happy." Through the flickering window light, I saw their tangled silhouettes. Stella had led the bullying in middle school, relentless, carving depression into my soul. Those three years were the darkest chapter of my life, ending with me framed and forced to transfer. I thought I’d escaped her, but she haunted my sleep. Then came Nate, my high school desk mate. "Leila," he’d say with that easy smile, "your name makes me think of a future with you." He pulled me back from the edge, time and again. Now, the woman I never wanted to see again was in my boyfriend’s bed. My body trembled as I dug nails into my palms, the sting a welcome distraction. "You bullied Leila in high school, right? Watch yourself here. If she complains to me, I’ll show you real bullying." My heart stopped. He knew. Nate knew everything—exactly who Stella was—and chose her anyway. That night, the bitter wind carried their sounds to me, each one a blade shredding my heart. ... "Enjoy the show?" Stella's voice, laced with amusement, cut through the cold night air. She was wearing Nate's jacket, the collar hanging open to reveal the pale skin of her neck. The scattered marks there were like a brand, searing themselves into my vision. I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, saying nothing. My eyes were raw and sore, but there were no tears left to cry. Just like all those years ago, I bowed my head in silence and turned to leave. But she grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt. "God, Leila, I hate this innocent little victim act of yours. So pathetic and fake." She yanked the fabric tight around my neck, and that familiar feeling of being choked, of not being able to breathe, washed over me. I clawed at the hood, gasping for air. A second later, she let go. "We'll be seeing a lot more of each other," she purred, shrugging the jacket off and tossing it at me. I stared at the jacket in my hands, taking a shaky breath to force the tears back down. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Nate. I ignored the first call. I ignored the second. The third time, I answered. "Hey, sleeping beauty. Time to rise and shine." His voice was cheerful, oblivious. "I brought you that oatmeal you like and a hot coffee." Every morning at six-thirty, like clockwork, Nate would call to wake me up and have me come down for breakfast. He’d clearly rushed back to keep up the pretense. "Yeah... I'll be right down." I fought like hell to keep the tremor out of my voice, to swallow the questions burning in my throat. He didn't seem to notice anything was wrong. I took a cab back to campus, slipped in through a back entrance, and changed into my pajamas before heading downstairs. I saw him through the glass doors of the dorm, shivering in just a thin hoodie. He waved, holding up the breakfast bag with a grin. "You came down in your pajamas again? Aren't you freezing?" Nate reached out instinctively to warm my ears, but I flinched away. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What about you?" I asked, quickly changing the subject. "Why are you only wearing a hoodie?" His hand holding the breakfast faltered for a second before he scratched the back of his head. "Oh, uh, I was playing ball with my roommates this morning. I must've left my jacket at the gym." "It's too cold. You should head back," he said, pressing the warm bag into my hands. "And don't forget, the portal for elective sign-ups opens at eight." He smiled, backing away and waving, then turned and broke into a run. I watched his back disappear into the distance. Then I turned and dropped the breakfast into the nearest trash can. Standing in the biting wind, I took a deep breath and finally made the call. "Sasha? It's me. About that study abroad program... I'll do it. Can you help me with the paperwork?" Her excitement was palpable. She promised to get everything sorted as quickly as possible. Then, a note of concern entered her voice. "Leila? Did something happen between you and Nate?" Our families had finally given our relationship their blessing our senior year of high school. I used to believe we would have a storybook ending. Now, he was a wound too deep to even speak of. "It's nothing," I lied. "I just need a change of scenery. He understands." In the computer lab, Nate had already saved me a seat. "Okay, I've got it pulled up for you," he whispered, leaning close. "The second it goes live, you click! If the server crashes, just grab the basketball elective, okay?" I nodded numbly. The clock ticked over. My cursor hovered, then landed on Yoga. This was the first step. To disappear from your world, Nate. Nate and I weren't in the same program. After walking me to my building, he headed for his own. As he turned a corner, I saw Stella. She jumped into his arms, peppering his face with a flurry of kisses. "Thanks, babe, for getting me into the basketball class!" "I'm warning you, don't you dare give Leila a hard time." "I won't, I won't. I just wanted to be in a class with you," she cooed, linking her arm through his. "By the way, did you get that apartment?" "All set. Paid the lease for a year. I'll get some guys to help you move your stuff in tomorrow." He had mentioned getting an off-campus place to me before. He’d complained about the dorms, about not being able to spend enough time with me, and had even asked his mom for the money. But I had turned him down. "We're still young, Nate. I don't think living together is a good idea. Let's wait until senior year." Now, he had a new roommate. Over the next few days, Nate was constantly at the new apartment, using a dizzying array of excuses. Meanwhile, Stella started skipping half her classes. "Leila, how come you didn't get into the basketball elective?" Nate asked a few days later, his voice sharp with annoyance. I stirred the noodles in my bowl. "I don't really like basketball." "You know," I added quietly, "you seem to be having plenty of fun with your new classmates." I had seen them more than once, chasing each other around the court, laughing. With her, Nate’s smile was wild and carefree, nothing like the steady, serious boy I knew. He didn’t push it. Maybe with Stella there, it didn't matter to him anymore. "Fine. Whatever you want," he grumbled, then stood up and left, saying he had to get to class. The moment he was gone, Stella appeared. "My boyfriend," she announced loudly to her friends at the next table, but her eyes were locked on me, "he just has such a high sex drive. I can barely get out of bed most mornings." She smirked. "But I don't really like class anyway, and he got me this great apartment so I can rest." Stella talked about their sex life without a hint of a blush, her voice ringing through the cafeteria. "Oh, and look what he got me for my birthday! Five figures!" She held up a delicate necklace, her gaze a triumphant, mocking challenge. The girls around her gasped, cooing about how lucky she was, how good her boyfriend was to her. I’d seen that necklace in Nate’s online shopping cart. He told me it was a gift for his mother. Another lie. I couldn't listen anymore. I stood abruptly, needing to get to the bathroom, to breathe. But Stella and her friends blocked my path. A second later, I was on the cold tile floor, pinned down. "I'm giving you a chance, Leila," Stella sneered. "Break up with Nate." The sole of her shoe ground against my cheek, the rough concrete scraping my skin raw. The dead memories clawed their way back up my throat. "Why should I listen to you?" I spat back. "Because you sleep with him for free? Stella, what do you think you're really worth to him?" My words, sharp and laced with scorn, shattered her triumphant facade. She snapped. Her fists and feet flew, her voice a torrent of vile insults. "Leila, you're just as pathetic as your mother," she screamed. "My mom should have finished the job and gotten rid of you both!" One of her friends finally pulled her back. "Stella, that's enough! If you get disciplined for this, you won't graduate." "Come on, let's go." They half-dragged a struggling Stella away. "This isn't over, Leila!" she shrieked over her shoulder.