After letting myself in the side door, I disarmed the alarm, then walked in a haze upstairs. I don’t know why I did it—it wasn’t something I did consciously—but I opened the door to Marco’s room and crawled into his empty bed. Maybe it was my imagination, but I swore I could still smell him on the pillow. Wrapped in the imaginary arms of my big brother, I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

What did you say to someone who’d thrown you away? Did you beg them to come back? Or did you recognize that it wasn’t meant to be and move on? I wasn’t the type of girl to beg, but my relationship with Nico went too far back to give up without a fight.

True to his word, he never came back to school. For weeks I tried to talk to him—texting, phone calls, and even dropping by his parents’ house—all without any luck.

He was a ghost, as if he’d never even existed.

His departure didn’t just leave me with heartache; it also sparked the wrath of Brooke Britton. She waged a war against me, blaming me for Nico leaving school. I was pretty sure it was just an excuse, but that didn’t matter. She took every opportunity she could to make my life a living hell.

On top of dealing with my grief and hurt, I was bullied on a daily basis. While in PE, my school clothes would end up mysteriously soaked in my locker. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get an elbow to the ribs walking down the hall or a tray of food dropped over my head in the cafeteria. Each day was a new torment, making me more miserable than I already was.

I began to dread lunch and classroom transitions. Nico had been such a large part of my world that I’d had no need for other friends. There were girls I had talked to in classes, but no one I was close with. When he left, I was all alone. In a school full of wealthy, privileged kids, I became an easy target. I tried to stand up for myself at first, but it only made things worse—as if Brooke fed on the conflict.

One day, I was walking with my lunch to the far table where I sat each day alone, and a foot shot out, sending me flailing to the ground on top of my tray of food. Roars of laughter filled the room. I slowly stood, relieved that my sister didn’t have the same lunch period and couldn’t see my utter humiliation. I didn’t look for the culprit or make eye contact with anyone as I stood, pulling my slice of pizza off my chest.

Just as I started to walk away, a guy I wasn’t familiar with walked over and motioned for me to stay still. His black hair fell into his eyes, and his uniform tie was pulled loose with his collar unbuttoned—a violation of the dress code. Whoever he was, he wasn’t interested in fitting in.