At lunch, Delia shuffled to her usual spot with her tray. Her appetite was almost gone, but she picked at her food anyway, pretending to eat to avoid drawing attention. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice when Jeremy sat down across from her.

The crunch of his chips made her glance up in surprise. He didn’t say much, just looked at her briefly before focusing on his snack. He wasn’t teasing her or asking questions like usual, but his quietness made Delia feel like the space between them had grown.

Her gaze drifted to his tray, and she noticed something. No clementine.

Before she could second-guess herself, Delia picked up the clementine her mother had packed for her, forgetfully convinced she liked them, and hesitated. Then, with a soft breath, she placed it on his tray.

Jeremy blinked, looking at her in surprise. "What’s this for?"

"You like them." Delia replied, with all the innocence of a child. She avoided his eyes, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "It's your favorite… so you can have it."

Jeremy stared at the fruit for a moment, then back at her. Slowly, a small smile spread across his face. "Thanks, Delia. That’s… really nice of you."

Delia shrugged, trying to seem casual even as her heart fluttered in her chest. "It’s just a clementine." she mumbled.

Jeremy didn’t say anything, just peeled it carefully, splitting the fruit into two neat halves. He pushed one toward her.

"Here." he said simply. "We can share. It’s more fun that way."

Delia blinked, her cheeks warming as she stared at the offered fruit. "Really?" she asked softly.

Jeremy nodded, still smiling. "Yeah. Besides, it’s yours too."

Tentatively, Delia picked up the half he offered her. For the first time that day, she almost forgot about Rebecca and the drawing. For now, at least, the weight didn’t seem so hard to carry.

But she could only watch as Rebecca suddenly appeared, her energy bursting into the space between her and Jeremy.

"Jay?" Rebecca’s voice rang out, a little too loudly: Jay, a nickname for Jeremy that made Delia’s stomach twist.

Jeremy looked up at the sound of his name, his face softening when he saw Rebecca. "Yes, Becca?" he replied, his tone warmer than Delia was prepared for.

Rebecca flashed a grin, leaning in and tugging on his arm. "I have to show you something! Quick, come on!" She giggled, her eyes not even sparing a glance toward Delia as she pulled Jeremy up.

Jeremy hesitated for a second, his gaze briefly flicking to Delia before he let Rebecca drag him away. "Okay, okay!" he said with a light laugh, following her eagerly.

Delia stared after them, her chest tightening in that all-too-familiar way. The half of the clementine she had offered Jeremy sat untouched on his tray, mocking her with its sweetness. She lowered her eyes, the small, thoughtful gesture now hollow in her hands. Her appetite vanished entirely, and the softness that had come from sharing it with him was now replaced with the dull ache of being overlooked.

For a moment, Delia thought about calling out to him, about asking him to stay, but the words lodged in her throat. Instead, she bit down on her lip, forcing herself to turn back to her lunch. She picked at the pieces of food, breaking them into tiny, neat sections, trying to ignore the gnawing emptiness inside.

Jeremy's laughter with Rebecca lingered in Delia's mind long after lunch ended. She sat at her desk, pencil poised but unmoving, her thoughts swirling. "Why did he feel so far away now?" she wondered, tapping her eraser rhythmically against the margin of her notebook.

Her mind flashed back to what her mom had told her once about how her dad had wooed her with something as simple as strawberry yogurt. "He noticed what I loved, and he made me feel special", her mom had said later, her eyes gentle with the memory.

Delia’s heart skipped. Could she do that for Jeremy?

With a newfound excitement, she scribbled the word clementines in the corner of her notebook, circling it repeatedly until the pencil wore down the paper. Maybe if she brought him some – bright, juicy ones, his favorite – he’d remember that she was his friend too. Maybe it would remind him of the thing they had shared.

Her imagination soared as the teacher’s voice faded into the background. She pictured presenting Jeremy with a small box of the sweetest clementines she could find. In her mind, his face lit up in surprise, his grin aimed at her.

"Maybe he’d sit with me again. Maybe he’d forget about Rebecca. Maybe… he’d even call me his best friend."

The bell rang, jolting her back to reality. Delia sprang from her seat, packing her things quickly as her plan solidified in her mind. On the way home, she’d ask her dad to stop at the store. It was perfect.

Delia all but burst into the car, pulling the door open so quickly it startled her dad, who was adjusting the rearview mirror. She threw her backpack onto the seat and leaned forward eagerly. "Daddy! Can we buy some clementines for today’s snack?"

Her father glanced in that mirror, surprised. "Clementines? But you don’t even like them that much, sweetheart."

Delia hesitated for a moment before forcing a wide smile. "I-I think I do now! I want to try them again to be sure." she said quickly, clasping her hands in what she hoped was a convincing way.

He raised an eyebrow, amused but not convinced. "You’re up to something." he teased. "But okay, we can grab some. You’ll have to promise not to waste them if you change your mind again."

"I promise!" Delia exclaimed, her excitement barely contained. She tugged at her seatbelt. "Let’s go now!"

At the store, Delia inspected every crate of clementines carefully, turning each one over in her small hands to make sure they were unblemished. Michael chuckled softly, leaning on the cart. "I’ve never seen you so picky about fruit."

Delia didn’t answer; she was too focused. Finally, she selected a small bag filled with the brightest, roundest clementines she could find. She held it close, feeling a little rush of pride.

This was going to work. It had to work.

Back home, Delia bolted straight to her room, clutching the bag of clementines like a prized treasure. She yanked open her closet, tossing aside old toys and school supplies until she found what she was looking for: an old shoebox. It wasn’t much to look at, but she’d fix that. She’d fill it with tissues to cradle the fruit and decorate it with colorful doodles to make it special. Jeremy would love it, she was sure of it.

As she sat on the floor, pulling out markers and scissors, a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

"Delia?"

She froze and looked up. Dusk was there, hovering gently above her. Her spiraling eyes were full of concern. "You called for me today." she stated. "I felt it, heard it. But I wasn’t sure why. Did something happen? Did someone bother you?"

Delia’s heart skipped. She hadn’t meant to summon Dusk at school; it had just... slipped out in her moment of panic. She shook her head quickly. "Oh, uh, no... nothing like that." she lied, glancing down at the clementines. "I’m fine."

But Dusk’s gaze shifted to the small bandaid on Delia’s knee. "And this?" she asked, unyielding. "Did someone push you?"

Delia’s face flushed as she scrambled for an excuse. "It’s nothing! I just fell, that’s all!" she said, her words tumbling out too fast.

Dusk didn’t look convinced. She floated down gracefully, crouching in front of Delia until their eyes met. She reached out, her hands cool and feather-light as they cupped Delia’s face. "Don’t lie to me." Dusk ordered, her voice so suddenly soft it almost made Delia’s chest ache. "Not to me. I can feel when something’s wrong. Tell me what happened."

Delia hesitated, her lower lip trembling. There was no use hiding it; Dusk always saw right through her. "Rebecca..." she began. "She... she took my drawing. The one with Jeremy. And she ran off with it."

Dusk’s expression darkened, her tail flaring slightly at the tip as her grip on Delia’s face tightened: not in anger, but in fierce protectiveness. "She took something of yours?" Dusk’s voice had a sharper edge now, though it remained steady. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"I didn’t want to bother you." Delia admitted. "And... I thought I could fix it myself. I thought maybe... maybe the clementines would make everything better."

Dusk tilted her head. "The clementines? For Jeremy?"

Delia nodded, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "I just... I want him to remember I’m his friend too. I want things to go back to how they used to be."

For a moment, Dusk didn’t say anything. She simply held Delia’s gaze. Then, she smiled; a small, sad smile. "You have such a kind heart, Delia. But sometimes kindness alone isn’t enough to protect it."

Delia frowned. "What do you mean?"

Dusk stood up. "It means we have work to do." she said, her voice firm but gentle.

Delia stared up at her, a flicker of hope sparking in her chest. "You’ll help me?"

Dusk nodded, her wings folding neatly behind her. "Always. Let’s finish your little gift. Jeremy should see the heart you’ve put into it."

Her energy was sharp, like the edge of a sword always ready to defend Delia. But now, as she knelt beside her, Dusk’s demeanor softened into something tender and patient. She didn’t press further about Rebecca or the missing drawing, though Delia could feel her quiet resolve simmering beneath the surface.

Instead, Dusk reached for the materials scattered around them and gestured toward the shoebox. "Let’s make this box worthy of its purpose." she decided, instantly easing little Delia.

The latter nodded, brushing her hair out of her face and reaching for her markers. Slowly, she began to relax. Her nervous energy melted into a kind of excited focus as she and Dusk worked together, harmonious as if they had done this a thousand times before.

They started with the base of the box, covering it in soft, pastel-colored wrapping paper that Dusk held in plac while Delia carefully taped the edges. "No wrinkles." Dusk instructed with a small smirk.

Next came the decorations. Delia chose her favorite stickers: glittery stars, tiny animals, and even a few goofy smiley faces. She pressed each one onto the box with deliberate care, her fingers smudged with glue from the paper flowers she’d stuck to the corners.

"Don’t forget the inside." Dusk reminded her, pointing at the plain interior. "It has to feel special all the way through."

Delia nodded eagerly, lining the inside with soft tissue paper. She arranged the clementines carefully in a bed of orange and yellow, their vibrant colors popping against the delicate background. Then, with Dusk’s guidance, she added a small note.

For a moment, she hesitated, chewing the end of her marker.

"What if he thinks it’s dumb?" she whispered, her earlier doubts creeping back.

Dusk tilted her head, leaning in close. "Jeremy isn’t Rebecca. He’ll see all the time you took to make him this. And if he doesn’t..." Her eyes flashed with something darker. "I’ll remind him."

Delia shook her head in protest, although with a grin. With a steadying breath, she wrote the note in her neatest handwriting:

"For Jeremy. From Delia. I hope this makes you smile!"

When she tucked it into the box, she sat back on her heels, surveying their work. The shoebox had transformed into a tiny treasure chest, full of love and care. The flowers, the stickers, the colorful paper... it was the most beautiful box she had ever seen.

Dusk floated up beside her. "It’s perfect."

Delia glanced at her, surprised to see the faintest, genuine smile tugging at Dusk’s lips.

"Really?" Delia asked.

Dusk nodded. "You’ve put your heart into it. Just like we said. That makes it perfect."

Delia beamed, her earlier sadness replaced with a quiet sense of pride. "Thank you, Dusky!"

Dusk reached out, brushing Delia’s hair back. "Always, little one. Always."

The next day at school, Delia tucked the delicately decorated box into her schoolbag, her heart fluttering with nervousity. All morning, she could barely sit still, sneaking glances at the bag under her desk. She imagined Jeremy’s face when he opened it, even more than yesterday: his surprised smile, the way his eyes would light up. He’d love it. He had to.

But when lunchtime finally came, Delia’s excitement crumbled.

She spotted Jeremy across the cafeteria, not at their usual table, but sitting with Rebecca. They were laughing together, their heads close as if sharing a secret. But Delia clung to the hope that maybe he’d look over, maybe he’d wave or come sit with her like he used to.

Then it happened.

Rebecca leaned in, her cheeks flushed, and Jeremy smiled softly before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Delia froze, her tray trembling in her hands as her stomach plummeted. It felt like the world around her blurred, the noise of the cafeteria fading into a distant hum.

She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Her fingers gripped the edge of her tray as she made her way to an empty table, her legs feeling like jelly. Sitting down, she placed her tray in front of her, staring at the untouched food.

The box in her schoolbag suddenly felt heavy, like it was pulling her down.

"Maybe... maybe I can give it to him another day?" she thought desperately, trying to keep the tears from spilling. Her fingers curled into fists under the table. She wasn’t chickening out... she was just waiting for the right moment.

Right?

She peeked at the bag under her seat. The sight of the little box, so lovingly crafted, made her heart ache. She’d poured her tiny soul into it, but now... now it felt like it didn’t matter. Would he even care? Would he laugh about it with Rebecca?

Dusk’s words echoed in her mind. "You’ve put your heart into it. That makes it perfect."

But what if it wasn’t enough?

Delia pressed her lips together, swallowing hard. She wasn’t ready. Not today. Maybe tomorrow, she thought, though the back of her mind whispered that she was only fooling herself.

She pulled the box deeper into her bag and turned her focus to the sandwich on her tray. It tasted only bitter in her mouth as she forced herself to eat. She kept her head down for the rest of lunch, trying to ignore what was going on from across the room. Trying to ignore how small she felt.

That afternoon, everything changed.

Delia had almost convinced herself that the worst was over, that maybe Rebecca had forgotten about the drawing. But she hadn’t.

During recess, whispers filled the air. Giggles and glances followed Delia down the halls. Her stomach flipped over and over as she overheard snippets of conversations, her name paired with words she couldn’t quite make out. Something was wrong... she could feel it.

When she entered the classroom, her worst fears were confirmed.

There it was, taped to the board at the front of the room: her drawing.

But it wasn’t just her drawing anymore. Rebecca had added her own cruel touch. The heart Delia had drawn above their heads was now obnoxiously large, bright pink, and surrounded by scribbled arrows. Jeremy's glasses were exaggerated, making his eyes look comically huge, and Dusk, her guardian and friend, had been turned into a cartoonish monster with fangs and claws.

The entire class erupted into laughter.

Delia froze, her face burning hotter than ever. Her hands trembled as she clutched the straps of her schoolbag. She wanted to scream, to run, to disappear, but her legs felt like they were glued to the floor.

At the back of the room, Jeremy sat stiffly in his seat, next to Rebecca. His usual easy smile was gone, replaced by something unreadable. Slowly, he raised his gaze, and their eyes met.

Delia’s heart stopped.

It wasn't pity or sympathy in his expression. She could tell it was disappointment. All she could feel was her own humiliation, the weight of the laughter pressing down on her chest.

He looked back at the board, as Rebecca elbowed him and whispered something in his ear. He didn't chuckle, but he didn’t stop her.

For a second, Delia thought she might faint... Finally, Rebecca stood up, her smile wide as she turned to Delia. "Hey, Delia!" she said mockingly, holding her arms out. "Do you want your masterpiece back? Or do you want to keep it up there for everyone to admire?"

Delia couldn’t respond. Her voice was trapped, and her knees wobbled as the laughter hit her like waves crashing again and again.

Rebecca sauntered up to the board, plucked the drawing down, and held it out with a smirk. "Here you go. Don’t say I never gave you anything."

Jeremy was still watching, as still as a statue.

With trembling hands, Delia took the paper, folding it quickly to hide the damage Rebecca had done. She avoided everyone’s eyes as she stuffed it into her bag, her face hot and her dignity stolen. She never responded in the end. She couldn’t. Instead, she hurried to her seat, keeping her head down as tears blurred her vision.

The teacher entered moments later, silencing the class, but the damage was already done. Delia sat through the lesson in silence, almost numb.

And Jeremy? He didn’t talk to her once.

At the school gate, after class, Delia's hands were now around the carefully decorated box of clementines she had made with Dusk's help, a pounding in her head as she ran to catch up with Jeremy. She had to do this: had to explain, to apologize, to make things right.

"Jeremy!" she called, breathless as she caught up to him.

He stopped, turning to face her with a look of annoyance. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed heavily. "What do you want now?" he muttered, his tone sharp enough to make Delia hesitate.

Swallowing her fear, she held out the box. "I- I wanted to give you this." she said softly, her voice trembling but full of hope.

Jeremy stared at it, then sighed again, snatching the box from her hands and opening it. For a moment, his face was blank as he stared at the neatly arranged clementines inside. But then he scoffed, his expression twisting into something... cruel?

"Are you serious right now?" he said, holding the box out like it was offensive. "This is what you think will fix everything? Clementines?"

Delia's heart sank. "I-I just wanted to say sorry!" she stammered, tears pricking at her eyes finally. "I never meant to embarrass you... I didn't want-"

"Didn't want what?" Jeremy interrupted, his voice rising. "Didn't want to make me look like an idiot? Well, guess what, Delia: you did! Everyone’s laughing at me because of you!"

Delia flinched. "No! I swear, I never wanted that! Rebecca-"

"Stop blaming Rebecca!" Jeremy snapped, his face flushed with anger. "She told me everything about you, about how you’re obsessed with me, drawing those creepy pictures. Do you know how embarrassing that is? How weird you are?"

Before Delia could respond, he threw the box to the ground. The clementines spilled out, rolling across the concrete as he stomped on them, smashing the fruit into pulp.

"Jeremy please..." Delia pleaded, her voice cracking. "I-I’m that not weird... I just... I just thought..."

"You- you th-thought what!?" Jeremy barked, imitating her, his words cutting like knives. "You’re crazy, Delia. A big, weird, crazy crybaby."

She blinked rapidly, her tears spilling over. "B-but I love you, Jeremy!" she blurted out, the confession slipping out before she could stop it.

Jeremy froze, his eyes hardening as if her words were poison. Without warning, he raised his hand and slapped her across the cheek. The force of it left Delia reeling, a sharp sting across her face.

"SHUT UP!" he shouted.

And then, he kicked her hard in the side, sending her crashing to the ground with a cry. Her body hit the pavement painfully, and the breath was knocked out of her.

"You're disgusting." Jeremy spat, his voice laced with contempt. "Why would I ever love someone like you?"

Delia lay there, stunned, the sting on her cheek burning and the taste of salt and blood mixing with her tears. Her hands trembled as she tried to push herself up, but the pain in her chest kept her on the ground. She reached for the clementines, still scattered and crushed, and gathered them into her hands.

But he was already walking away, his back turned, not even looking back. The fruits were ruined, her heart shattered, and all she could do was sit there in the cold, feeling more alone than she had ever felt in her life.

Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard Dusk calling her name, but even that couldn’t reach her now.

Then it happened. Delia broke.

She didn’t just cry: she crumbled. She sat there, clutching the pulp, her tears spilling uncontrollably as if they’d been locked away for years. Her sobs tore from her chest, raw and unrelenting, in the quiet air around her. It wasn’t just the pain of Jeremy’s words, the slap, or even the humiliation. It was everything: the loneliness, the rejection, the way the world seemed to pile on her fragile heart without mercy.

Her small frame shook with each gasp for air, and her cries grew louder, more desperate, as though the weight of it all had finally broken through her defenses. Passersby paused, some casting awkward glances, others murmuring in concern, but Delia didn’t care. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold it back anymore.

As usual, but a bit later than usual, her father was just pulling into the driveway after a long day at home. He was tired, his thoughts on the usual evening routine, but as he stepped out of the car, something caught his ear: a sound so full of anguish it made him stop in his tracks.

"Delia?" he called, his voice tight with concern.

He followed the sound and found her. His little girl, sitting on the ground near the gate, her knees drawn to her chest, clutching a mess of broken sweets, her face red and blotchy from crying. It took him only a second to rush to her side, kneeling down in front of her.

"Delia! Sweetheart, what happened!?" he asked, his voice filled with panick as he gently lifted her chin.

At the sound of his voice, Delia met his gaze, her tear-streaked face crumpling even further. "D-Daddy!" she wailed, throwing herself into his arms.

Her father held her tightly, his heart breaking at how small and fragile she felt in his embrace. "Shh, it’s okay... I’ve got you..." he whispered, stroking her hair. "I’m here... You’re safe now."

Delia clung to him, her sobs muffled against his chest. She didn’t have the words to explain... not yet. All she knew was that someone was there to hold her while her heart was into pieces.

Her father didn’t push her to speak. He just held her, waiting for her storm of tears to calm. The sight of her so broken stirred something so fierce in him, and he silently vowed that whatever had done this to her, he would solve it – anything for his daughter.

For now, though, he simply stayed with her, giving her the one thing she needed most: someone who cared enough to stay.

"They... they bother me at school." Delia finally confessed, her words tumbling out between hiccupping sobs. With her rawness, vulnerability. "I have no friends. They think I’m weird, Daddy. I’m not... I’m not good enough. I thought I could be, but I can't."

She choked, gripping his shirt tighter as if she feared he might pull away. "I’m... I'm sorry I lied to you and Mama. I made it seem like everything was okay, but it’s not. I’m not good enough... I’m not good enough for anyone, especially for you. I don’t even know how to make you proud, how to be what you and Mama want me to be... I’m just the worst little girl in the world."

Her father opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she continued in a rush, the floodgates open now. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I’m just... I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to worry Mama. I thought... I thought if I just kept pretending, she wouldn’t have to worry about me, about my friends. But now, I feel even worse because I lied and... I don't know what to do anymore."

...