Chapter 8
Bernice's POV
When I got home, I didn't even greet my mom.
I just rushed straight up to my room, threw myself onto the bed, and cried my heart out.
The pain was so deep.
It felt like everything I had been hiding for years came crashing down at once.
All the memories started flooding in.
The time when I was just eight years old — standing at a small stall trying to buy something.
I had coins in my left hand because my right hand couldn't hold them properly.
Then out of nowhere, an older woman slapped my hand.
Hard.
It even turned red.
"Have you lost your manners? Why are you using your left hand?!" she shouted in front of everyone.
I just stood there, frozen and humiliated.
It was the trader who defended me, explaining that I had a condition with my hand.
The woman didn't even apologize.
She just said, "Oh, I didn't know," like that fixed anything.
I didn't cry there.
I didn't want to.
But when I got home that day, I broke down and cried to my mother, telling her everything.
My hand had swollen from the slap, and I had to use ointment to soothe the pain.
It was just one of many moments that crushed my self-esteem.
I tried to love myself.
I really tried.
But people made it so hard.
They judged, stared, whispered.
And now... now I wasn't even sure if loving myself was possible anymore.
Even now, sometimes I still cry myself to sleep.
Not as much as before... but the ache is still there.
Like a scar that refuses to fully heal.
After crying for what felt like hours, I forced myself to take a shower.
I didn't even bother going downstairs for dinner.
I just slept, hoping the world would leave me alone for a while.
---
The next morning, my head was pounding.
My stomach was grumbling too.
But I still dragged myself out of bed, took my bath, and wore my outfit for the day.
At the breakfast table, my mom asked me what happened yesterday.
I lied.
Said "nothing."
And ate my food quietly.
My siblings tried to make me laugh with their silly jokes.
Normally, I would've laughed.
But today, I just gave them the fake smile I had mastered over the years.
Honestly, I couldn't even remember the last time I gave a real, genuine smile — a happy one.
---
At school, my friends were all waiting for me.
The moment they saw me, they rushed to hug me tightly.
Especially Kim — she hugged me like she was trying to squeeze the sadness out of me.
They knew.
They all knew how much Bryan's shout had broken me.
Later, Bryan came over to apologize.
I forgave him.
But deep down, I wasn't sure I could ever forget.
---
During lunch, something hilarious happened.
I caught Gerald staring — like, full-on frozen staring — at a really beautiful girl.
She was one of the popular girls.
Always stepping out of a sleek black G-Wagon like she was walking a red carpet.
Her name was Mirabel.
She wasn't like the typical mean girls you see in movies, though.
She was actually cool, kind, and pretty.
No wonder Gerald looked like he'd been struck by lightning.
I walked up to him and said casually, "Her name's Mirabel, you know."
He nodded quickly like he already knew, but he still looked dazed.
Mirabel and I weren't super close, but she was friends with Grace, my bestie, so we knew each other.
---
After school, when I was chilling at home with snacks and TV, Gerald texted me.
He asked how I was feeling and checked up on me, which was sweet.
Then, out of nowhere, he dropped the bomb:
"I think I have a crush on Mirabel."
He even begged me not to tell anyone.
But me?
My mouth?
Keeping secrets?
Hah.
Of course, I told Grace.
And Grace, being Grace, accidentally (not accidentally) told Mirabel.
And guess what?
Mirabel started getting close to Gerald.
Honestly, I think she might have liked him too.
The way she smiled at him, joked with him — you could feel the chemistry.
I just sat back and watched like a proud little matchmaker.
Maybe good things could happen to awkward people like us too.