Chapter 6 THE BRUISE

IVY's POV

Tyler’s shoulder hit mine on Wednesday before I saw him coming, and it shoved me hard into the locker so that my hip struck metal and the air left my chest in one sudden break. He kept walking without slowing, and the boys with him moved past as if nothing had happened at all, one of them laughing while they turned the corner and disappearing into the hallway noise. I stayed in place for a moment because my body needed time to catch up with what my mind already understood, and people continued moving around me without stopping or looking, adjusting their paths just enough to avoid me without acknowledging why I was there in the first place.

I pushed off the locker and kept walking even though my side tightened with every step, and I didn’t slow down because slowing down would have made it something I had to deal with in front of everyone. By the time I reached class, the pain had settled into a dull constant that stayed under my skin no matter how I shifted in my seat, and I kept still for the rest of the period because movement made it harder to ignore. No one asked what happened, and no one looked at me long enough to think anything had changed.

After school I went to the bathroom without thinking about it and lifted my sweater just enough to see the bruise forming across my hip, dark already in a way that made it feel more permanent than it should have been. I touched it once before I could stop myself, and the pain came back sharper than expected so I pulled my hand away and stood there for a moment longer, breathing slower than usual, before washing my hands at the sink and watching the water run until my thoughts settled.

Thursday arrived without anything feeling different until the final bell ended the day and the halls filled with movement again, lockers slamming and voices overlapping as everyone shifted into weekend plans. I opened my locker and stopped when I saw something taped inside, and at first I didn’t process it fully, only that it didn’t belong there.

It was a printed photo of me from a school event I barely remembered, my head angled slightly down as if I was already trying to leave the moment, and across it someone had drawn a thick red arrow pointing directly at my stomach with a single word written beneath it in block letters asking why. There was no name or explanation attached, nothing that turned it into anything other than what it already was, and the hallway behind me continued moving as if nothing had changed at all.

I stood there longer than I needed to because my body hadn’t decided what to do yet even though my mind already knew, and when I finally reached for it I didn’t tear it off or react quickly but took it down slowly, holding it for a moment before folding it once and then again without thinking about it too much. I put it into my bag, closed the locker, and walked away while everyone continued around me as if nothing had shifted in the air.

No one looked at me differently as I passed, and that was what made it feel both easier and worse at the same time because it meant nothing had actually changed for anyone else. On the bus ride home I sat by the window and watched the city pass in blurred layers of light and movement that didn’t feel connected to me, and my hand kept resting near my hip without me noticing as if checking something that didn’t need checking anymore.

Earlier that morning I had seen Jace near the water fountain standing with Marcus, leaning slightly against the wall while Marcus talked and he only responded when necessary, like he was conserving words instead of using them. When he said the word father, something in his voice changed in a way that didn’t match the rest of him, flattening suddenly as if the word had landed somewhere heavier than the conversation could hold, and for a second his expression tightened before returning to normal so quickly it almost felt like it hadn’t happened at all.

Marcus kept talking and Jace nodded once, and then it was over, but it stayed in my mind longer than it should have even though I didn’t think about it properly at first. That night my phone lit up while I was still changing, and I saw the anonymous account had posted again with another candid photo of me from a school event, my head slightly lowered and unaware of the camera, with the caption saying every school has one.

I stared at it for a moment before scrolling down and seeing comments already building, names I recognized mixed with strangers, jokes and assumptions and short statements that didn’t need context to land, and I locked my phone and set it down face first without reading any further. When I got home my mother was asleep on the couch still in her scrubs, shoes placed neatly beside her as if she had followed routine even while collapsing from exhaustion, and the television played silently across her face.

I covered her with a blanket and she didn’t wake, and I stood there for a moment longer than necessary before going into the kitchen where I heated rice and ate standing at the counter because sitting didn’t feel necessary anymore. The apartment stayed quiet in the way it had been staying quiet for a while now, and the bills were still on the counter where she had left them, unopened but impossible to ignore even without touching them.

I already knew what they meant, so I didn’t open them, and still I checked the account on my phone again even though the number stayed the same no matter how many times I looked at it. My mother shifted slightly in her sleep behind me, a small sound escaping her that didn’t fully belong to rest, and I realized I had been holding my breath without noticing it.

I turned off the light and went to my room, and the wall between us was thin enough that I could still hear her breathing, uneven at the edges but steady enough to remind me she was still there. I lay down without expecting sleep, and when it finally came it didn’t stay for long, breaking apart each time I started to drift, and every time I closed my eyes the image of the red arrow came back pointing at something I wasn’t ready to name yet.