My lungs hurt, my eyes stung, and my voice was hoarse by the time I stopped running. I slung off my backpack and hurled it at the bushes just outside the school premises, because I wouldn't be needing that anymore. From this day forward, Kim Jae-Eun was going to retire to Peru and make an honest living as a llama farmer. Or llama herder. Whatever the proper title was.

    "It's ok, it's ok..." I whisper to myself, over and over, as I walk aimlessly through the streets with mascara running down my cheeks and a good 25.752% of the Wesley gum wall in my hair. Feeling furious,foolish, lost, rejected, unwanted, defeated. With an unquenchable thirst for the blood of my enemies, revenge, redemption, and maybe some cookie dough ice cream.

Right then and there, at the intersection that I was crossing near 7/11, I vowed to get my revenge. I wanted to hurt Dillon as much as he hurt me. I wanted to make Cara jealous of me. I wanted to show everyone at that hellhole of a school that I was worth it. I was not someone to be laughed at, and taken for granted. I mattered, and I was capable of doing things. Many things. What kind of things? I wasn't sure yet but I was going to do things.

    I found myself at the park, which is a couple of blocks away from my house. I remembered playing here with Dillon and Luka, as kids. Everything was so different back then. Dillon and Luka used to compete for my attention, and to push me on the swings. But in the fifth grade, they got badly hurt in a car crash which killed their dad. They stopped coming to the park after that, and when Dillon woke up from his coma, he didn't want to talk to me anymore.

Well, I was finally going to give him what he wanted. I'd been a fool for all these years, hoping for something that just wasn't meant to be mine. It was time to destroy the Dillon Austin Colt shrine in my closet. I mean, hypothetically speaking,of course. If I had a Dillon Austin Colt shrine in my closet, now would be good time to dismantle it.

I was lost in my totally non creepy thoughts when I saw Luka approaching. He had walked all the way here without making a sound. He was carrying my discarded backpack, with kicked puppy expression on his face.

"Hey Luka," I croak. I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me like this. I turn on my heel, prepared to hightail it to my house when he grabs my hand and goes "Kim, wait."

Staring at the ground, I turn and face him. "Luka, you don't have to do this."

"Do what?"

"You don't have to be nice to me," I choked. "I get it, you feel bad because you have an asshat for a brother but I don't need your pity."

"Is that what you think this is?" Asked Luka, his blonde eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. "All this time, I thought we were friends. What about the pizza eating contests? The Power Rangers role play? Does these words mean nothing to you?"

    "Why didn't you stop Dillon?"

"You think I knew he going to do that?"

    I then realized that all my anger was misplaced. There was no one to blame but Dillon, and myself for being so naive. Of course Luka wouldn't have known, and he probably deals with as much crap from Dillon on a daily basis. We took a walk around the park together, and he didn't seem to care that I had raccoon eyes and brand new "highlights" in my hair. The subject soon turned to childhood, and about how much we loved the swings. So naturally, we leapt into the tanbark pit and sat on the swings.

    It would have been cute and all, except swings have a weight limit. PSA- do not ignore the weight limit on swings. For a while, it seemed to hold, then suddenly, I heard the almost imperceptible creak. My mind suddenly went

    but the message took too long to get to my legs, and I stayed put as the swing collapsed, the chains breaking off and the top bar bending down into a U shape. Immediately, Luka jumped up, grabbed my shoulders, and moved me to safety but the damage was already done- my pride was as hopelessly shattered as the swing chains.

    "Kim, are you ok?" Luka's soft voice was full of kindness but I couldn't face him. I'm just too fat, too awkward, and too useless.

    Without saying a word, I grabbed my backpack and ran again. This time, Luka did not follow me.
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A/N: A big thank you to whoever is still reading this hot mess! 😂 😂