Amy

Underneath the tree's shade, I sat on the table, feet up on the bench. My usual spot. I like views where I could look down on the city peasants.

'Hey!' a boy snatch out one of my EarPods, 'we're talking to you, lesbo!' It was Brody, and his jockey friends.

'Give it back!' I yelled, endlessly reaching. Not too long after, I was surrounded.

'It's not fair that you always have this spot to yourself, Amy', Brody scoffed, 'Let's share'. With their lunches, they all flung themselves around the table. I wasn't in the mood for this.

'Why don't you go tend to your uptight girlfriend?' I sneered, 'if you don't, you might find her in a closet, making out with one of your guys'.

'Britney? Nah, I have that bitch on a leash', he replied, false confidence.

'Sure', I replied, sipping my drink. His friends laughed at him.

'Hey', he pushed me, making me spill my drink, 'don't get sassy with me, sexy legs'. That was the nickname he came up with for me. 'Besides, whatever happened to your bag full of badges?'

'I don't do that anymore'.

'Hey, if you belly dance for me with your Arabian chick girlfriend, I'll throw money at you for free', he laughed, followed by his friends.

'Wait...' I froze, 'how do you know about –'

'Didn't think I'd find out about your friend?' from his phone screen he showed me a gossip forum, with a hyperlink to the article published when Zina and I escaped Theresa's home, the mental asylum, 'you've been a bad girl Amy, or should I say... Skye?' My Alias.

Before the girl I was today, I used to be known as the pushover. The girl who did anything for anyone. A puppet to the popular kids.

Even though it seemed as if nothing had changed... one thing had changed. My voice of wisdom was gone.

Middle school flashback...

'Ow-ow – ah!' I burned myself with the curling iron.

'What are you doing?' Cleo asked, eating breakfast.

'Duh – what does it look like?' I muttered, agitated that the stupid hairstyle wasn't working.

'Why do you want it curly?' Cleo asked, with a full coily afro puff tied up.

'Because it's nicer'.

'Are you trying to look like that blonde, rich girl?' she deducted. I shrugged. Cleo. She was my voice of sisterly wisdom when I had none. 'Amy, you will never be Britney. So just be yourself'. She was right. I could never be taller, sexier, richer.

But at least I could try.

By the time I hit the school grounds, all my curls had flattened. Every day, I wore the same baggy pants, with the same oversized school jacket, tie too-long, and a satchel full of badges.

The badge girl.

That's what I was known as. With another nerd, I sold badges outside the cafeteria every other day. Every single badge one could think of, I had it... Save the trees, save Africa, breast cancer, aids, pride, Juneteenth, goth badges, save the animals, save the planet...

'Hey Britney', I ran up her locker, a gleeful smile on my face, 'I'm raising funds for –'

'I'm not buying any of your stupid badges, Amy', she snapped, 'now get lost'. Tightly, she crossed her legs, and looked frustrated.

'If you need to use the bathroom, you should just go'.

'It's not that, badge girl', she grunted.

'Oh...' my face lit up, 'you need a tampon'. Britney put her hand over her forehead.

'No, ugh – can you just – go! Shoo', she eagerly pushed me away from her, as if I was a stain in her golden vicinity. Then I understood; she was in pain.

'Hey-err', I pulled out a packet of sweet-sized drugs, 'you should take one of these. They'll make you feel better in minutes –'

'Amy!' she whispered, pushing the packed to my chest, 'these are – illegal', she grunted.

'But they work. Trust me', I assured her. For a long time she gave me the suspicious eye look, then she open up a pack and swallowed one. 'Hey, you can't keep the pack'.

'How much do you make from your stupid side-hustle anyway?' she asked.

'A-hundred-and-sixty dollars – on a bad day'.

'And the funds you raise actually go to the charity?'

'Sometimes'.

'You're a bad liar', she saw right through my wandering eyes, 'here', then gave me two one-hundred-dollar bills. 'Two-hundred dollars. Go buy yourself some new clothes'.

'Hey', finally, the boy she was waiting for arrived, 'thanks for waiting for me'.

'Hey – Brody, hi!' she replied, cheeks going red. Then he looked at me.

'Is this your friend?'

'No!' she snapped, 'she's nobody. Let's go'.

Present:

'I won't lie. Your girlfriend's hot', Brody remarked, looking at pictures of Zina on the internet.

'She's not my girlfrien – '

'Ooooh come on, don't lie', he scoffed, 'and why let these thick legs of yours go to waste?' he squeezed my thighs.

'They didn't go to waste if they worked on you', I snapped back, slapping his hand off my thighs. His jock friends howled like animals.

'Damn. That feistiness, I love it', he mocked, 'if I was an Arab prince, I'd make you my second wife, then that Arabian girlfriend of yours, and I'd make that black amiga of yours my fourth wife –'

'Can you stop talking?!'

'What was her name again...? Cleo-dora', he attempted a Spanish accent. His friends also made fun of her, 'yeah, all three of you lined up... my concubines'.

'Ugh!' the fact that they had no respect for a dead girl. Without a comeback, I got up and left the bench, but Brody followed me. One of his friends started feeling my ass. 'Back off!'

'Or what?' the boy taunted, grabbing my boob next. Fully livid, I elbowed him in the stomach, but accidentally threw his whole body ten meters back at a-hundred miles per hour... His body went flying until it hit the tree branch that shaded my bench, making him either unconscious, or dead.

Climactically, the branch snapped, tilted, and slowly fell to the ground, crushing the benches that other kids sat on.

'Uh-uh', I stammered, speechless, and gazing at my shaky palms. I didn't know I could do that. I pointed at the girl beside me, who was filming me, 'Hey – gimme that!' I grabbed her phone and walked quickly towards the gates.

The school alarm went off. Walking turned into walking faster. Walking faster turned into running.

All I could do was cry myself to sleep that night within the four walls of this ugly apartment. That night, I had nightmares of being kidnapped by Tabitha, and her little mafia vixens. I re-lived every horrible moment where everyone I loved was snatched away from me.

'Wha...' WIZZ. I woke up to tear gas in my room, which was smashed in from the window. 'No! Not tonight!' Covering my face, I skidded off my bed, picked up my bag and threw every essential item inside. Phone. Charger. Toothbrush. All things on the shelf.

'Surrender yourself, girl!' It was just the police. Evading them was easy, 'Hey!' After teleporting behind the officers, one spotted me getting on my bike.

For almost an hour, I rode in stealth mode, figuring out where to go.

'Open up!' I huffed, banging on the detective's front door, 'you have to let me in!' Not far out, I heard the sirens approaching. Finally, he opened.

'Amy? What the –'

'Can I crash here tonight? Thanks!' I barged my way in, threw my bag to the ground, and caught my breath. Sergio was confused. 'I've – been – compromised...' I huffed. 'can't go back'.

'Were you using your powers in public?' he asked.

'No!' I moaned, 'but... I slipped up, sorta...' I panicked, folding my arms behind my head, and walking in circles. Sergio sighed. 'It wasn't my fault though! Brody and his stupid – animal friends were provoking me'.

'Brody?'

'Some boy at school', I murmured.

'Amy... what happened?'

'They were harassing me. I elbowed a boy but accidently using my powers and he went flying until he hit the tree. Now I... I think he's dead'.

'What?!'

'Or unconscious...?' I squealed.

'Girl', his tone was pressing, as if I'd hit a nerve, 'I can't protect you anymore. I'm sorry'.

'Huh?' I huffed, still out of breath, 'wha-what do you mean? Isn't it your job to protect citizens of the city? You're the freakin' police'.

'Not anymore'.

'What?'

'I've resigned'.

'Resigned?' I repeated, 'so what you're saying is... you're just a plain, normal citizen?'

'What happened to I don't need your protection?' he regurgitated from the past, mimicking my tone, 'remember? All those times I tried to keep you safe? You just kept destroying the parameters. And now I'm done'.

'Okay', grumbled, 'I need your help'. Sternly, I looked at him. Eventually he shook his head.

'Whatever. Take the couch'.

While he grumpily walked back to his room, I threw myself on the couch. Everything smelled like it was freshly cleaned, like a five-star Airbnb. Yawn. I slipped off my jeans, wearing only a t-shirt, and slept like a starfish...

*KNOCK-KNOCK*

My eyes shot open. It was them. They found me. Sergio went to the door. As soon as he did, I jumped behind the couch to hide.

'Hey man, it's me, Michael'. Oh. I peered up, then walked to the living room doorway to get a peep. Sergio opened up. 'Hey... how are you doing?'

'Since when did you care how I'm doing, Michael?' Sergio replied, not so happy. Michael glanced into the hallway, spotting me. Again, I eclipsed behind the scenes.

'I see you have... a friend over'.

'She's not –' Sergio knew what he was insinuating, 'she's just a teenage girl who wound up in trouble last night. So I let her stay'.

'Alright'.

'Besides, why are you here?'

'I... eh-hem', Michael cleared his throat, 'wanted to apologise about what happened to you. Selena told me. It was never meant to go this far. I'm sorry –'

'Don't be. I guess we're even now, right? Touché'.

'Look, I just want you to know this wasn't my intention –'

'But of course it was your intention! You intended every bit of it'.

'I asked them to – get you roughed up a bit. I never asked Trepp and his guys to torture you and burn hot metal into your back', Michael's voice became whispery.

I was stunned. Sergio looked equally stunned.