Laylah was in good spirits as she went from class to class. Last night might have only been a dream visit, but the feelings Donil had awakened still lingered. Every time she thought of his touch, she blushed and felt hot. Even Britta's knowing grin couldn't dampen her happiness.
The two girls went to the cafeteria and Laylah neatly avoided answering Britta's prying questions.
"Come on, Chica! I need details! How long did you make him beg for forgiveness? Did he admit how much he likes you? Well?" Britta demanded and pointed her French fry at Laylah.
Laylah grinned. "Wasn't it you who told me a girl has to have some secrets?"
"Ha, ha. Don't be so smug! Did he try to kiss you?"
She blushed and turned a bright pink when Britta crowed in delight. "Shh! Britta, you're embarrassing me!"
"Sorry, Amiga! I can't help it. My little baby is finally growing up."
She laughed at Britta's silliness. "Good one. I'm going to go grab a brownie from the dessert station. You want anything?"
"Yeah, get me a bowl of vanilla ice cream, please."
"All right, vanilla ice cream for my best friend and adviser." She walked over to the desserts and quickly got the food. She turned to go back to their table and found her way blocked by Violet and her flunkies.
"Aw, look, girls. The little mouse has left her corner. Maybe she needs to be chased back." Violet made a tsking sound while her group tittered.
She gulped. "Please, Violet, I want to go sit down and get out of your way."
She was ashamed of how wimpy she sounded. Automatically, Laylah lowered her gaze and hunched her shoulders in an effort to make herself seem less of a threat.
Violet chortled. "Wow! The mouse squeaks!" Her eyes narrowed. "I think I prefer silence."
She didn't have time to move as Violet slapped her hard enough to knock her backwards.
"Oh, no!" She tried to hold on to the food in her hands but lost her grip. She fell to the floor. The desserts flew up in the air and crashed down on her. Ice cream dripped down Laylah's face and on to her shirt. Pieces of the brownie were also in her hair. Winded, she blinked back tears of humiliation. Dimly, she could hear Britta's outraged yells. She looked up at Violet and her group as they laughed maliciously. Hatred throbbed in her veins and she snarled, surprising herself and her tormentors.
Violet gazed coldly at her. "Does the mouse think she's a lion? Maybe we need to teach you a lesson in obeying your betters!"
"You're not better than me! You're nothing more than a stupid bully!" Laylah sat up and was promptly knocked down by Theresa.
"You don't get to speak to Violet that way, Little Mouse."
She sensed rather than saw other students moving in to catch a glimpse of the confrontation. She glared at Violet and felt something shatter in her soul. She was not a punching bag! She had feelings too!
::Stand up for yourself, little one! Put them in their place.::
Distracted by the unfamiliar telepathic voice in her head, Laylah didn't see Violet's foot lash out. She yelped and rolled from Violet's kick to her stomach. She fought for air and barely managed to scramble to all fours.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The swelling chant filled her ears, but Laylah ignored it.
Violet charged her again and she braced for the impact. She whimpered when Violet crashed into her and sent them both rolling. She tried to protect herself from her enemy's fists and was partially successful.
::You need to knock her off you! You're not going to last this way!:: The voice growled.
"I'm trying!" Laylah grunted. She wildly swung her fist in Violet's direction and felt it connect with the other girl's nose. Blood splattered on Laylah's face. Violet's shriek of pain silenced all noise and the older girl stumbled back, clutching her bleeding nose.
Laylah quickly came to her feet, warily watching the crowd, afraid that another attack would happen. Her belly hurt and so did her face, but she couldn't worry about that. She saw Britta push through the crowd.
"Chica!" Britta yelled.
Slowly, she moved toward her friend and made sure to keep everyone in sight. "Britta!" She staggered the last few feet and fell into her friend's arms.
Violet's flunkies surrounded their injured leader who slapped away their helping hands. Violet gave Laylah a murderous glare and hissed, "You'll pay for this, Mouse! I'll make sure of it! Move!" Violet shoved Theresa out of the way and stormed off. Theresa and the other girls quickly ran after her.
"Okay, kiddies, show is over." Britta kept a protective arm around Laylah. "Nothing to gawk at. Buh-bye!" She shooed the grumbling students away. "Come on, let's go some place quiet."
Laylah let Britta lead her away. Her adrenaline was wearing off and numbness made her mind slow. She'd hit Violet. She couldn't believe it. She felt a silly grin on her face.
"Reality to Laylah!"
"Huh?" She blinked twice and focused on Britta's worried expression. "What?"
"Amiga, I'm glad you tried to stand up for yourself. But punching Violet did not help. Next time she comes after you, she's going to do some major damage and you have no fighting skills."
Laylah gaped at Britta. "I don't understand."
"Here, sit first."
It took a second for their surroundings to register. Britta had taken her to the music room. She sat in the seat Britta pointed to. "Why are we here? I don't understand."
"You're in shock, Laylah. Your face is a mess and your shirt is torn. Do you really want to go to Mozar's class looking like this?"
"No! I'm sorry, Britta." Meekly, she dropped her head and cringed at Britta's loud huff.
"Stop doing that! I swear, Laylah!" Britta shouted.
Laylah jumped, her head snapping up as her eyes locked on to her friend's irate expression. "What?" she wailed.
"Stop with the apologizing! You're not in trouble!" Britta shook her. "I'm so proud of you! Violet may have got the best of you, but you stood up for yourself."
She stared. "You're not mad at me?"
"No, silly, Chica! I'm happy for you. Stay right here. I'm going to get you another shirt and something to clean your face." Britta hugged her and left in a burst of excited energy.
Laylah laid her head down on her arms as she thought about the fight. Who had spoken to her telepathically? It had been a man she didn't know.
::Of course you don't know me. But that doesn't mean I can't be trusted.::
Slowly, she raised her head. "Don't you know it's rude to be in another person's mind without permission?"
::Yes, but I'm not keen on following the rules.::
"Good to know, I guess. Look, my face and body hurt. Can you keep the mind chatter to a minimum? Please?"
::No problem. Remember, I'll keep watch.::
"Yeah, you do that, Mr. Voice." She waited for a snide comment and was mildly surprised when he didn't give one. "Figures. Well, better take a look at the damage." She reached into Britta's backpack and pulled out the hand mirror. "Here goes."
With shaky hands, Laylah held up the mirror and a cry of dismay escaped her. She touched her right cheek and winced at the instant pain. The bruise covered most of it. She also had several scratches and cuts. This was the first time Violet had ever injured her in such a visible place. She started crying.
A door opened behind her and Laylah hastily wiped at her face, not wanting her friend to know she'd been crying. "Britta, you're back!" She turned around and froze. "You're not Britta!"
"No, Miss Le Croix, I am not. However, you will come with me and join Miss Newsome in the principal's office."
Laylah was rooted to the spot. Never had she been called before the principal!
"Are you deaf, Miss Le Croix? I said move!"
She jumped up and hastily stammered, "Yes, sir, Mr. Mozar!" She grabbed her stuff and Britta's backpack while doing her best to ignore Mozar's scowl. "I'm ready."
"Come."
Obediently, she followed and fretted the entire fifteen minutes it took to reach the office. She walked through the door Mozar opened.
"Here she is, Principal Hubbard."
Laylah was afraid and seeing Britta's pensive look did not help quiet her own unease.
"Thank you, Victor." Principal Hubbard nodded and turned his attention to Laylah and Britta. He waited until Mr. Mozar left before speaking.
"Laylah, please sit," Principal Hubbard instructed kindly.
She managed to stiffly sit in the chair next to Britta. Principal Hubbard was not a tall man, but his expression was imposing. He was ordinary looking with short neatly trimmed brown hair. His ever watchful and probing gaze made her squirm. Principal Hubbard had a reputation of being hardcore.
"Nice of you to join us, Miss Le Croix."
"Sir, I can…."
"Quiet! You will not speak unless given permission to do so," he cut her off sternly. "It has come to my attention that you and Miss Spritz were in a confrontation during lunch. As you are aware, Miss Le Croix, such behavior is not tolerated here."
Oh no, he was going to expel her! Father would kill her! Laylah felt the urge to cry. Her day was turning into a nightmare.
"As such, I have listened to the testimonies of everyone involved. I will hear yours now before I decide on a punishment. You may talk now, Miss Le Croix."
She considered what to say and decided to stick to the facts. "I went to get dessert, Violet attacked me, and I tried to protect myself. I didn't mean to hurt her." She hoped Principal Hubbard would be satisfied with her answer. Laylah ignored Britta's frantic look. She kept her eyes lowered, but felt Principal Hubbard's measuring stare.
"I see." He rustled some papers on his desk. "Miss Le Croix, I will let you off with a warning. Next time this happens, you will be expelled. As it is, I've called your father and explained the situation to him."
Horrified, Laylah surged to her feet. "No! Please, sir! You can't do that!" She knew she was panicking, but she didn't care. If Father had heard…she could kiss her freedom good-bye forever.
"Sit down, Miss Le Croix, and compose yourself! Honestly, the nerve of teenagers today. Your father is sending someone to pick you up in ten minutes. Miss Newsome, you may walk Miss Le Croix to her pick-up spot. Dismissed!"
Numbly, she allowed Britta to drag her out of the principal's office and to their lockers.
"Whew, that was rough!" Britta suddenly hugged her. "Laylah? You're pale! It's not that bad. I know your dad's not the best in the world, but surely he won't ground you for standing up for yourself."
"Yes, he would," she muttered, too upset with Principal Hubbard for calling her father. She would not cry. She had to be strong. Laylah opened her locker and put her homework in her bag.
"Chica, would it help if I told your dad what I saw happen?"
Britta's concern unleashed Laylah's pent up tears and she flung herself into her friend's arms and sobbed loudly. She barely heard Britta's "you're safe, it's okay Laylah."
"Come on, Amiga, we'd better get you to Jacques."
Laylah's sobs had slowed and she sniffled. "How do you know it's Jacques?" She stepped back and put her backpack on.
"He's the one who always picks you up," Britta calmly pointed out and slid her hand into Laylah's, squeezing it in encouragement.
She let herself be led outside. She was already envisioning her father's reaction. It was making her positively ill. She had a feeling that the rest of her day was going to be miserable.