Page 36 of The Bittersweet Bond

The rustling of books and chairs, the laughter from the corners of the room—it all seemed louder than usual. Everyone knew about the video. She could feel their eyes on her. No one even bothered to hide their stares. In her trembling hands, her cue cards shook slightly. What a perfect day for this, she thought bitterly.

"Nationalism in the 19th century..." Evin began, but her voice sounded dull in her own ears. She knew Mr. Brunner’s eyes were fixed on her. He perched on the edge of his desk, his expression both bored and condescending. Every sentence she spoke seemed to be dissected by his gaze, and though he said nothing, she could feel her confidence crumbling under the weight of his scrutiny. Just what I needed. Why does he sit there like he’s waiting for me to fail? Her voice began to waver.

"Ms. Hayes, you may start," Mr. Brunner said dryly, his tone cold, almost irritated. He made the words sound like an obligation he had no interest in fulfilling. Since the beginning of the school year, he had seemed to take a perverse pleasure in challenging Evin and putting her in uncomfortable situations. But today, he wasn’t alone—the entire class seemed against her.

Evin cleared her throat, trying to find her voice.

"With California’s admission to the Union in 1850...," she started, making an effort to sound firm and clear. But the tension in the air was palpable, as if everyone was expecting something to happen. The first faint giggles were barely audible, but they were there.

Evin’s heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to focus on her words. Every sentence she uttered felt like a step further out onto thin ice. She could hardly concentrate. All she felt was Mr. Brunner’s sharp gaze boring into her back. You can’t mess this up, she told herself over and over, but her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She barely dared to look directly at him, afraid that one more disapproving glance would shatter what little confidence she had left.Why does he always have to be like this?she thought desperately, as her voice faltered again.

And then, from the back of the room, came the first taunt:

"Let’s see if this presentation goes as viral as your last video."

Thegiggling swelled, accompanied by scattered coughs—weak attempts to mask laughter.

"Quiet," Mr. Brunner said, but his words carried no real authority. His gaze made it clear he wasn’t particularly impressed with Evin standing at the front of the room. She felt her breathing grow heavier, her grip on the notes tightening as if they were the only thing anchoring her.

Evin pushed forward. "California's admission was marked by debates over slavery and the question of whether it would become a free state or a slave state. This decision had a significant impact on national politics—"

Before she could finish, another voice cut through.

"Evin, you’re really good at... presenting."

The room erupted into raucous laughter. This time, Mr. Brunner didn’t even attempt to intervene. He simply stood there, letting her squirm, probably well aware of the situation.

Everything seemed to close in on her. The words on her notes blurred, and the stares from all around felt like sharp needles pricking into her skin.

"Maybe we should give you more stage time—you clearly love being in the spotlight," came Cat’s unmistakable voice.

Of course, it had to be her.

Evin clenched her jaw, frustration and humiliation flooding her chest.If Bas goes back to her after this, he’s lost it, she thought bitterly.

Her focus shattered. The laughter in the room was deafening now, a relentless noise she couldn’t block out. Her gaze flicked to Bas.

He sat in the back corner, quiet and expressionless. But she noticed the subtle tension in the way he spun his pen between his fingers—calm, almost indifferent, as if nothing was happening. But there was something in that small motion, something that made her pause.

He acted like she wasn’t even there.

No laughter, no defense—just silence. And that hurt more than anything else. He was supposed to be her anchor, her lifeline in moments like this. But his silence? It screamed louder than any insult.

She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, and rolled her eyes.

"This is so childish," she said, her voice straining to break through the noise.

Thomas, a boy she had barely exchanged words with before, called out, "Hey Ben, you gonna help her prep after class?"

The comment hit her like a punch. Her shoulders slumped under its weight. The laughter, the staring, the endless whispers—it was suffocating.

She didn’t have the strength to push back anymore. No sharp comebacks, no witty remarks. She was drained. All that remained was an overwhelming exhaustion.

The class burst into hysterical laughter. Almost everyone joined in, and even Mr. Brunner stood there with his arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face.

In the corner, a few girls exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to join in or show some semblance of sympathy. None of them spoke.

Evin felt her cheeks burning, her throat tightening as if a vice had clamped down on her airways.

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