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To my dear readers,

Embrace your free, rebellious soul, let Love prevail.

Be❣️

1

She walked into the classroom during the first period after summer break.

Her eyes sought a spot at the back of the room. It was still early, everyone was still standing outside chatting about how wonderful the holidays had been, and the classroom was practically empty except for a pair of tall twins, the twins. Her friends from years ago.

One of them pushed the other onto the path between the desks. It had been a while since she’d seen them, except from a distance, so she had to carefully look at the facial landmarks to see who was who.

When he stood before her, she had to look up because even at fifteen, they were tall. He suddenly pulled her close, avoiding her large, innocent eyes. His warm, long arms enveloped her completely, his scent so familiar and comforting that tears welled in her eyes. Especially when his whispered words reached her. “I’m so sorry, Puck, right away. I wanted to make it right, but I hung my head towards my friends and let my best friend down. I was such a wimp back then. I’m sorry, Puck, more than you’ll ever know. And the longer it went on, the more the treshold became higher. I was and am a coward. Will you forgive me, give me another chance?”

She wriggled free, her hands against his rather muscular chest for a fifteen-year-old she realized vaguely, to look at Xander, or Xan, his words leaving no doubt it was him. He had to force himself to keep looking at her, under her piercing gaze, the reason he’d hugged her, his hands still, quite contradictorily, on her upper arms, as if to keep her from running away. She saw genuine emotions alternating in his gray eyes. Guilt, sadness, affection, pleading, asking. It all flew across his face.

“I was done.” Her gaze darted to the other twin, Felix, Flix. “I spent four years trying to convince him I wanted my friend back. I know we were in touch, especially in the beginning, but it wasn’t like it used to be. Now that we’re back in the same class, he’s finally gotten his shit together, but I had to give him another push,” Flix chuckled awkwardly, combing his fingers through his short, dark blond hair, looking at her intently.

“You’re blocking the path.” A boy behind her came just in time; at least now she didn’t have to answer.

“Hey Tyr. Puck, this is Tyr,” Flix introduced them after they clapped their hands together.

He was the same height as the twins, with curly blond hair that fell loosely around his face, but short above his ears, and dark blue eyes. Puck glanced over her shoulder, nodded curtly, and because Xan had let go of her, she was able to duck under his arm to quickly find a spot in the back corner.

If she thought it was over now, she was mistaken. The twins turned, and Tyr followed them. Xan, braver than when he’d messed up, picked her up and gently placed her on a chair at a nearby table, then sat down on her former Seat. Flix chuckled and plopped down on the chair next to her, so she was now sitting between the twins. Tyr sat in the row in front of them and turned to them, grinning at the bewildered face of the blushing girl with her seemingly unremarkable hair, pulled back in a short, bushy ponytail at the nape of her neck, with a strand of hair sticking out. Messy bangs revealed a pair of brilliant green eyes, framed by a thick fringe of long lashes that made him feel like she was seeing right through him. Although, they were a bit blurry now. He chuckled again. “She’s a little shaken up, I think, guys.”

Puck blinked wildly. It had happened so quickly that she momentarily lost track of what had happened, but Tyr’s words grounded her a little.

He looked into the classroom, at the students trickling in. “Isn’t anyone coming to sit with you?” Surprise filled his voice, and she shrugged. “Or is no one from last year here?” Puck glanced around the room.

“Yeah, right.” She didn’t say anything more, but the boys kept looking at her, waiting for more.

“Don’t you have any friends?” Flix pressed her when she still hadn’t said anything. She shook her head.

“After the fuss in elementary school…”

“Sorry,” Xan mumbled. Puck shrugged again and continued: “I hoped I’d be rid of them here, but unfortunately. At some point, I got fed up and punched Gwenda. Then they were suddenly as sweet as pie.”

Xan placed an apologetic hand on hers, and Flix placed one on her thigh. “I’ve learned a lot. I don’t need friends; they’ll drop you when it suits them.” The twins withdrew their hands.

“I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know, Puck. We’ll do everything we can to regain your trust.” Xan’s voice sounded determined.

She shrugged again. “Don’t bother. Especially not out of guilt, because that’s fake. I’m having a great time. I don’t miss anyone.” It sounded harsh, but they heard no trace of bitterness or self-pity in her voice. Not even pain. She’d learned a lot from it and developed a sense for bullies and their victims.

“It’s not out of guilt, Puck,” Flix said. Xan added softly, the pain and regret clear in his voice: “It’s because we miss you.”

“What do you do outside of school,” Tyr asked, trying to lighten the mood, “when you don’t have any friends?”

“My uncle has a farm. I help out there a lot. Animals are better to be around than people.” Tyr chuckled.

“Agree.”

The teacher came in, and Puck sighed with relief. She welcomed them and began explaining the program for this first semester. Puck’s thoughts drifted back to years ago when she was still friends with the twins. She didn’t remember how their friendship had begun, only that she’d laughed a lot with Xan. Flix would occasionally join in, during games of “pim, pam, pet,” the toddlers they were, laughing loudly whenever a body part with the letter C was asked.

Cycling through the village, with her sitting on the saddle, her feet on the frame, and him on the back, his feet on the pedals. Things went awry when their classmates started nagging. Puck’s face fell. Apparently, she was much more mature than them. She’d messed it up herself when they kept asking when they were getting married. Puck, who was still a child then, had said: three o’clock. But school wasn’t out yet, there was a lot of joking around, and the teacher pleasantly joined in. And she wasn’t smart enough to say: I didn’t say what day or that they were just friends.

Their father had also said something when she was at their house, probably meant to tease her, but it made her run away crying. Friendship over. She didn’t even know how, but it was over and the bullying, which had stopped for a while thanks to the twins, started again. She thought she was over it, but the tears welled up at the memory. She had missed their friendship and the fun too, but she’d rather be rid of them that way.

Xan had watched her sweet face from the corner of his eye ever since the teacher had started talking, grateful, and almost unable to believe she was sitting next to him and seeing her again. That’s when he noticed her face changed from a soft expression to one of pain. He placed his hand on her thigh and leaned forward. “Is something wrong, Puck?” She shook her head, leaned forward, and quickly began copying what the teacher had written on the board into her notebook. She tried to stay focused for the rest of the lesson. Fortunately, it was interesting, and eventually she was able to leave the past behind.

Finally, the lesson came to an end, and the teacher assigned the homework. “Okay, that’s it for now. I know it’s tough right after the holidays, but... Just stay put,” she called out when the bell rang. “Hand this out,” she asked a student at the front of the class, then, raising her voice to be heard above the din, continued: “The year is completely full, so there’s no time to waste, especially now that we have a workshop day planned in four weeks. Here are the workshops you can choose from. Two you’d really like to do, and a third if one of them is full. I expect your choices on my desk on Monday. You’re free to go.”

Puck waited for her paper, hoping the boys would leave immediately, but she was out of luck. Glancing blankly at the workshop list, she grabbed her bag and stood up, ignoring the boys. Flix shrugged, and the three of them followed her.

When they chose their majors, everyone in the class took the same subjects. Puck was surprised that these boys had chosen science and health. Now that she thought about it, it wasn’t so strange. They were athletes, basketball players after all.

To get to the next classroom, they had to go through a wide hallway, which many students had to pass through. An irritated voice caught Puck’s attention, partly because it was followed by a pleading voice. Her gaze darted in the direction of the sound. Ever since she’d been bullied herself, she’d developed a radar for people in the same situation, and when she saw a girl—she’d noticed her before because she was so pretty, with black hair and beautiful milk chocolate brown skin, but the girl didn’t seem particularly aware of it—being pushed against the wall by a boy a head taller than her, she walked purposefully toward him.

The boy stood over her, holding her against the wall with his hands beside her head. “Is this okay?” Puck asked, her gaze on the girl, but clearly a question to both of them. The girl shook her head. Puck nodded, unaware that the twins and Tyr had gathered behind her, and turned to the boy. “You know teasing girls is asking for kisses is elementary school stuff. But yeah, we can’t expect more from a thirteen-year-old. We women expect more than that.” The hall had quieted down a bit, as more students gathered around them and there was some snickering.

The boy snorted. “I’m sixteen.”

“Oh really? Your behavior says otherwise. If you really like her, show it in some other way. But I think your chance has passed, isn’t it?” With the last word, she looked at the blushing girl, who nodded at her words.

“See, ruined it. Lesson learned, I hope. Don’t show it to me again, or I’ll take action.”

“And who do you think you are, the police?” There were bellows and some shouts that made him blush. “Shit, is that you?” Finally, he straightened up and the girl was able to leave.

“Don’t you have to say something to her?”

“Sorry, Amara.”

“May I ask why you’re trying to intimidate her?” Puck showed no mercy.

“Um, no reason.”

“Not good enough.”

“Okay, okay, I like her. Like you said. Elementary school behavior,” he said with self-deprecating humor. The boy’s humor got the better of him, and the two girls looked at him in surprise when he grinned crookedly. He extended his hand. Amara took it, still caught off guard by his change of behavior. “I hope I can make it up to you?”

Amara shrugged. “Maybe.” He nodded.

“Thank you. I’ll do my best.” Then he nodded to Puck and walked away.

She watched him go, confused. She hadn’t experienced this before. She looked at Amara now. “Who was that?” Amara started to answer, but the bell rang for the next period. “Shit, we have to go.” And she bolted.

The three friends exchanged confused glances and ran after her. Everyone in the classroom had taken their seats as they had in the previous class, meaning the back seats were still free. The group that had chosen this studycourse was too large for one class, so their class didn’t have enough students to fill every desk, and most had chosen the window side. Puck was back in the corner, hoping the boys would leave her alone. This time it was Flix who lifted her from her seat. “Hey, boy! Stop that!”

“No, we want you to sit between us.” Tyr sat down in front of her again.

The teacher wasn’t there yet, which gave them the chance to ask what that whole hallway thing was all about.

Puck shook his shoulder. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, judging by the comments, you do it more often.”

“Nobody else does anything, so...”

“Cool!” said Xan.

“Not cool, just that bullying. It did lead to something good after all.”

“Well, indeed,” Tyr thought, “it’s really annoying that it happened to you, but now you know why. Or at least you’ve done something positive with it.” Xan and Flix felt guilty.

“So you’re the one who made this school claim to be bully-free?” Flix had heard of her sometime in the distant past, unaware it was about Puck. Probably not interested enough because they weren’t bullying or being bullied. Puck had been bullied by their friends, but they hadn’t participated in it themselves, even trying to distract them. Unfortunately, they hadn’t always been aware of it.

“Can’t help it,” she muttered. Just like every year, all the new first-years arrived, and they had to be educated, a few of them. Mostly girls. Instead of supporting each other, they criticized each other. Mostly because of deep-seated insecurity, jealousy, and the idea that if they were the ones doing the bullying, at least they weren’t being bullied themselves.

“Can we help?” Xan asked. Puck shrugged again.

“Whatever you want.” Xan looked at his brother and friend. They nodded with a big smile.

“We will.”

If Puck had known that meant she’d never walk the halls alone again, she would have said no. They’d probably followed her everywhere anyway, since they took the same classes.

Something else had changed. Two days after the hallway incident, Tyr had bumped into Amara in the auditorium during lunch. They’d been in the same class in previous school years, and when they’d started talking about the workshop day, she’d spontaneously joined them at the table. She clicked with them all, so Amara now joined them at lunch every day, whenever she could.

Puck’s cousin Declan, the son of the uncle she helped out with on the farm, walked past her table in the auditorium a few days later. He looked, moved on, looked again, and walked toward her with a questioning eyebrow raised. “What’s going on here, Puck? Are these guys bothering you?”

Puck shook her head uncomfortably. Declan looked at the boys and Amara one by one, a menacing look in his eyes. Declan was quite intimidating, with very broad shoulders and strong limbs from his farm work, his dark brown hair, and equally dark eyes. He’d chosen the same program, but was assigned to the other class with Amara. The boys raised their hands defensively, and Amara looked at him anxiously with her large, light brown doe eyes. Declan didn’t come into the auditorium much. He was mostly outside between classes. He needed that to cope with being inside. One class hour was already too much for him, let alone two. What he was doing in there now was a mystery to Puck.

“We adopted Puck,” Flix grinned. Xan and Tyr burst out laughing. Declan’s eyebrows shot as far back as possible into his hairline.

“He’s talking nonsense,” Puck snapped. “They don’t bother me, but I can’t get rid of them either.”

“Should I help them?”

“Mm, no. I’ll keep them for a while,” Puck smircked, Amara chuckled, and the boys looked almost menacing, “they’re helping with the newbies here.” Puck didn’t quite want to say she was combating the bullying; she considered that too much of an honor, but her cousin understood. “You inside, Dec?”

“Hungry.” Communicating with few words ran in the family. Apparently, he felt the need to keep an eye on her, because after getting a sandwich and a bowl of soup, he joined them. Puck leaned back in the plastic chair, raised an eyebrow at him, but he shrugged and took a bite. She looked around at the young people at the table. She wasn’t being pathetic at all; she voluntarily chose to be invisible for her own peace of mind, but having these beautiful people sitting at her table, so naturally, felt good, even though her experience kept her cautious, vigilant, and alert.

“The workshops, which one are you going to do?” he asked between bites. All six of them had chosen the graffiti. The second one was different. From Jembé, Puck, to the climb wall, the boys, and bag design and making, Amara.

After a few weeks of being monitored by them, she was relieved to go home every day. Finally, peace. But if she were honest, it did feel good to have some kind of friends. It just took some getting used to, to no longer being alone in silence. She didn’t want it, but slowly she began to trust them more and ignore them less. Even to participate more in their conversations. It was a huge change. She found it scary. She struggled to protect her heart. Friends could hurt you so much.