When I got home, as soon as I entered the living room, I saw Parker.
He was sitting on my family’s sofa, with my parents sitting beside him.
Seeing his unfriendly eyes, I suddenly had a bad feeling.
“Zoe, come here, my mother seemed to smile with some difficulty. “Sit down, don’t rush to your room.”
I sat down next to Parker, leaving a seat between us.
Mother pushed her phone over, showing a photo.
It was a photo of me and Luke walking side by side, his hand ruffling my hair.
“Zoe, tell mom, who is this boy?”
I glanced at Parker.
His schadenfreude was written all over his face.
And my father remained silent, lighting a cigarette.
Seeing that I didn’t speak, mother began to lecture earnestly:
“Zoe, you’re in your senior year now. It’s good that you’ve made friends after transferring, but there are some things that are bottom lines. You know what you should and shouldn’t do, right?”
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath: “I’ll change.”
At this moment, I received a message from Parker on SnapChat.
It was just a short sentence:
[Telling on others, who can’t do that?]
The next second, I blocked and deleted him.
23
“He and I are just friends, nothing more,”
After seeing Parker off, I stubbornly repeated to my mother:
10:34 AM
<
“Being isolated before transferring wasn’t my fault either. I was the victim, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
But mother just sighed: “I know you wouldn’t, but I’m worried. I’ll ask Parker to keep an eye on you, that boy has always protected you since
childhood.”
“What if I say he’s lying? That he’s changed now?”
My hands were clenched into fists, slightly trembling.
I stared at my mother, waiting for her answer, suddenly wanting to tell her everything Parker had done to me.
The isolation, the transfer, the bullying.
But mother just rubbed her temples:
“Zoe, then where did this photo come from? Mom hopes you can be an honest child.”
At that moment, I let go of my hands.
Forget it.
24
The next day at school, I noticed the strange looks from
my
classmates.
After all, thanks to Parker, everyone knew about yesterday afternoon’s basketball court incident, where he and Luke had “fought” over me.
Luke acted like nothing had happened, sitting in his seat doing make–up homework.
“Hey, desk mate, let me copy yours.”
I glanced at his blank paper: “You’re not going to write it yourself?”
He cleared his throat, pretending to casually move his shoulder, then winced in pain.
He said pitifully: “See? You heartless girl, you abuse me and then don’t take responsibility.”
A few nearby classmates turned to look, and my face felt hot: “Shut up.”
Luke just laughed, carefree.
I sat down and handed him my completed paper.
But at this moment, the girl in front of me turned around.
Parker’s current girlfriend, Fiona.
“Zoe, let’s talk.”
