Page 2 of Shattered Melodies

“Speak up, dude. We can’t hear you,” a voice called out from the back of the room. Snickers rippled through the class.

I felt my face flush hot with embarrassment. “I’m Liam,” I repeated, louder this time, my voice cracking slightly. “I moved here from Colorado.”

“Colorado, huh?” The same voice spoke again, and I looked up to see a guy leaning back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. He was good-looking in that effortless way that seemed to come naturally to some people - perfectly styled hair, confident posture, designer clothes. Everything I wasn’t. “What’s the matter? Couldn’t hack it in the mountains?”

More laughter. I stood there, frozen, unsure how to respond. The teacher intervened, her voice sharp. “That’s enough, Jake. Let’s make Liam feel welcome, shall we?”

Jake. I filed the name away, already knowing he was someone to avoid.

“Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself, Liam?” the teacher prompted gently.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What was I supposed to say? That I was a perpetual new kid? That I’d been to more schools than I could count on both hands? That I was tired of always being the outsider?

“I… uh… I like to read,” I finally mumbled, immediately cringing at how lame it sounded. “And… um… I play piano sometimes.”

“Oh, a musician!” the teacher said brightly, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “Maybe you can join our school band.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re desperate for someone to play wonderwall badly at parties,” Jake quipped, earning more laughs.

I felt my shoulders hunch, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the floor. The room seemed to be spinning slightly, and I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears.

“That’s quite enough,” the teacher said sternly. “Thank you, Liam. You can take your seat now.”

I practically ran back to my desk, keeping my head down to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes. As I sank into my chair, I could hear whispers and giggles around me. My face felt like it was on fire, and I was sure everyone could see how badly my hands were shaking.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. I couldn’t focus on anything the teacher was saying, too preoccupied with replaying my humiliation over and over in my mind. When the bell finally rang, I was the first one out the door, desperate to escape.

I thought I was in the clear, but as I rounded the corner, I collided hard with someone. My books went flying, scattering across the hallway floor.

“Watch where you’re going, new kid,” a familiar voice sneered. I looked up to see Jake looming over me, flanked by two other guys who looked equally unfriendly.

“S-sorry,” I stammered, dropping to my knees to gather my things. I reached for my history book, but Jake’s foot came down on it, pinning it to the floor.

“You know, we have a tradition here at Oakwood,” Jake said, his voice low and menacing. “New kids have to prove themselves. Show us they’re worth having around.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with fear. “I don’t want any trouble,” I managed to say, hating how weak my voice sounded.

Jake laughed, a harsh sound that made me flinch. “Trouble’s already found you, Colorado. Better watch your back.”

He lifted his foot, and I quickly snatched my book, scrambling to my feet. Jake and his friends shouldered past me, nearly knocking me over again.

I stood there for a moment, clutching my books to my chest like a shield. The hallway was emptying as students headed to their next classes, but I couldn’t make myself move. My legs felt weak, and I could feel the beginnings of a panic attack clawing at my chest.

This was worse than I’d imagined. Not even a full day in, and I’d already made an enemy.

I leaned against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. Part of me wanted to run, to go home and beg my parents to homeschool me or send me to a different school. Anything but this.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed off the wall. As I walked to my next class, I kept my head down, hyper-aware of every laugh, every whisper around me. Were they talking about me? Laughing at how pathetic I’d looked in homeroom?

I slipped into my next class just as the bell rang, sinking into a seat at the back. As the teacher started talking, I found myself staring out the window again, watching those same puffy white clouds drift by.

By the time lunch rolled around, my nerves were frayed to the breaking point. The bell rang, releasing a flood of students into the hallways. I hung back, letting the crowd thin before making my way to the cafeteria. My stomach growled, reminding me that I’d been too anxious to eat breakfast this morning.

The cafeteria doors loomed before me, the noise from inside already overwhelming. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped inside. The cacophony hit me like a physical force - hundreds of voices talking and laughing, the clatter of trays, the scrape of chairs against linoleum. The smell of mystery meat and overcooked vegetables hung heavy in the air.

I clutched my brown paper bag, my eyes darting around the room. Every table seemed full, students clustered in their familiar groups. I recognized a few faces from my morning classes, but no one met my eye or waved me over. My chest tightened as I realized I had nowhere to sit.

Swallowing hard, I took a tentative step towards an empty corner of a table. But before I could reach it, a group of giggling girls swooped in, claiming the space. I backed away, face burning, feeling like a complete idiot.

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