Jayla

I shut my locker with a slam and duck my head. I hug my books closer to my chest as I make my way out of the corridors, trying not to pay attention to the murmuring that is following me. From the corner of my eye, I notice students shamelessly pointing at me and whispering to themselves. Some give me pitiful looks, while others give me cold looks and snicker at me.

I clench my books closer to me and lower my head to hide my face with my hair. More than half of our school ...