Part 2: https://www.patreon.com/posts/117827335
Part 5-8: https://www.patreon.com/posts/we-are-together-117956269
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Part 3
"Damn," flashed through Mark's mind when he saw them—the three girls who always found a way to ruin his day. Inside, everything tightened as if an icy ball had rolled down his spine. His palms instantly grew clammy, the cigarette trembling in his fingers. His gaze automatically dropped to the ground, but it was too late to hide—Maddie, Lauren, and Scarlett's laughter already echoed across the yard, burning his ears.
— "Maybe we should leave before they start again?" — Jessica muttered quietly, turning her head toward Emma and nervously biting her lip. She knew how much Emma hated these encounters and could see her friend tense up immediately. But before Mark could respond, Maddie shouted loudly, waving in their direction:
— "Hey, look who's here! Our favorite 'Crazy Em!'" — Maddie's voice dripped with mockery, and Scarlett and Lauren instantly burst into giggles, latching onto the nickname.
"Why the hell are they here? Why now? Can't I just have a moment of peace?" Mark felt his fingers tighten around the cigarette. A wave of anger flared up inside him, but it was powerless rage. He couldn't force them to leave, couldn't drown out their taunts.
— "Hey, Crazy Em, don't pretend you can't hear us!" — Scarlett's voice rang out, closer this time.
Mark stole a glance upward, hoping he was wrong, but of course, he wasn’t. The girls were slowly approaching, their footsteps pounding in his head like a heavy drumbeat. Between every mocking remark, their laughter filled the quiet street, growing louder and closer, like a taunting melody.
Maddie, the ringleader, sauntered up to them with feline grace, her entourage huddling slightly behind her like a pack ready to pounce. Her gaze slid over Emma and landed on the cigarette in her hand. A contemptuous smirk tugged at her lips.
Mark gritted his teeth, feeling a storm of humiliation and anger boiling inside him, but he forced himself to hold it together. He raised his head and looked up at Maddie, trying to maintain a shred of dignity. A deep breath—and his face froze, becoming a mask of indifference. Showing weakness now would only give Maddie more ammunition. "No way! I had enough of this crap back when I was a boy in school." a thought flickered.
— "Heya!," Emma said, taking a drag and trying her hardest not to cough as she exhaled the smoke deliberately in Maddie’s direction. — "What brings someone as important as Miss Maddie to a place like this?" — she added with a smirk, flicking her hair back with exaggerated poise. — "Come to grace us mere mortals with your presence, or are you just here to ruin another day?"
Maddie narrowed her eyes and took a step closer, her posse staying slightly behind, exchanging encouraging glances.
— "Looks like you’ve lost your fear, Crazy Em," — she hissed, her voice dripping with sweet venom that made Emma instinctively tense. — "Don’t forget how things ended last time. Or do you need a reminder about how close you came to getting expelled for that fight?"
"God, she pisses me off!" — Mark’s fingers tightened around the cigarette. Every word she said, every tone in her voice, pressed an invisible button, amplifying the hum of irritation. The nickname "Crazy Em" sounded like a triumphant insult crafted specifically to break him. "One more word and I’ll hit her, consequences be damned," he thought, but forced himself to exhale. That wouldn’t help. It would only make things worse.
— "A reminder?" — Emma let out a short laugh, looking straight into Maddie’s eyes, where a flicker of surprise betrayed her expectations. — "I remember perfectly well how you hid behind daddy's skirt when I gave you a good smack, and then you put on an entire show for the principal, bawling so hard everyone thought I’d killed you! If it weren’t for your daddy…" Emma smirked and started taking another drag when, suddenly, the cigarette was slapped out of her hand with a sharp motion. Maddie struck her fingers with enough force to send the cigarette tumbling to the ground, leaving a thin trail of smoke in its wake.
The cigarette hit the pavement with a hiss, leaving a glowing ember on the gray concrete. Emma flinched, feeling a sharp sting in her fingers. Fury surged inside her—hot and all-consuming—the kind that always ignited during encounters with Maddie. But before it could erupt, a familiar, threadbare explanation replayed in Emma’s mind: "She’s just compensating. Poor little princess, starved for her parents' attention." That thought, something Mark had used to justify people like Maddie in the past, collided with a fresh wave of irritation. "Who cares why she acts this way? It doesn’t give her the right to be such a bitch!"
— "Are you freaking serious right now?!" — Mark barked, snapping his head up. His thin but trembling voice came out louder than he intended, startling Jessica, who flinched.
Maddie raised an eyebrow, her smirk spreading even wider. She seemed to savor every moment, relishing Emma's anger like a perfectly seasoned dish.
— "Oh, look at her—so mad!" — she said, stepping back theatrically and pressing a hand to her chest as if frightened. — "What’s the matter, Crazy Em? Are you a guy again today? Or are you president this time?" Her voice shook with laughter, and Scarlett and Lauren giggled, joining in the mockery.
Mark shot to his feet, fists clenched. He was barely in control—rage boiled inside him, ready to burst like a geyser. Another second and he might have hit Maddie square in her smug, grinning face, but a hand gently, yet firmly, grabbed his wrist. Jessica. Her eyes pleaded with him, filled with worry.
— "Emma, don’t," — she whispered, barely audible, but there was more resolve in her voice than Mark expected. She tightened her grip on his wrist, holding him back. — "You’ll only make it worse. Don’t let her win."
Mark froze, realizing that Jessica was anchoring him—not just physically but emotionally. She was right—hitting Maddie would’ve been the dumbest thing he could do. But the fury inside him still burned, and retreating felt like swallowing shards of glass.
Part 4
— "So, Emma, cat got your tongue?" — Maddie drawled mockingly, folding her arms across her chest. — "I was starting to miss your little stories! Maybe you’ll tell us another one about how you were some kind of superhero? Or wait… are you actually an alien who landed on Earth in the body of a dumb girl?" — She burst into loud laughter, leaning forward as if searching for a reaction on Emma’s face. Her friends snickered behind her, eagerly echoing her taunts.
Mark felt his fists clench even tighter, his breathing becoming heavier. He was ready to explode, but Jessica stood firm beside him, her grip on his wrist keeping him from snapping.
— "Go to hell," — he hissed through clenched teeth, sharply pulling his hand free from Jessica’s grasp, but still taking a step back.
— "What was that you just mumbled?" — Maddie raised her eyebrows, her scornful gaze sweeping over him. — "Listen, Crazy Em, I can put you in your place and then go straight to the principal. My dad’s a school sponsor, you know. He can pressure your mom, and you’ll end up out of school with a pile of problems!" — She took a step forward, deliberately invading Emma’s personal space.
Before Mark could respond, something shifted. Maddie’s taunts suddenly ceased, and her gaze moved past him, over his shoulder. He turned and saw Monica walking down the street.
Her sharp figure in a tailored gray blazer was as poised as ever. She carried a grocery bag, her eyes focused straight ahead. But as soon as she noticed the group of girls, her pace slowed, and she stopped. Monica’s gaze darted from Mark to Maddie, lingering on Emma’s tense posture and tightly clenched fists. Her expression darkened immediately.
— "What’s going on here?" — Monica’s voice was cold and firm but not loud. She stepped closer, casting a quick glance at the other girls. — "Emma, I’m talking to you."
Catching Monica’s gaze, Mark felt everything inside him collapse. "Monica! Damn it, I forgot she was coming home early today. This is a disaster!" raced through his mind, instantly showing on his face. He knew any attempt to explain himself would only make things worse. Over the past few months, he had grown used to no one listening to his side of the story—especially Monica, who only saw him as a rebellious teenager incapable of self-control.
Maddie immediately put on an innocent face, straightening her shoulders.
— "We were just talking, Mrs. Livingston," — she began, her tone that of a perfect victim. — "I wanted to apologize for the last time, you remember, when Emma and I had that argument? But she started teasing me again…"
Monica’s sharp eyes lingered on her for a moment before turning to Mark. He stood there, his face taut with tension, fists clenched—more a sign of bad intentions than innocence in Monica’s eyes. "God, I’m so sick of this! Is this some kind of joke? How can she be so blind? Maddie’s lying right to her face, and I’m the one who gets blamed again!" The thought shot through Mark’s mind as he opened his mouth to retort, but Monica cut him off, raising her hand to silence him.
— "Emma, how many times have I told you to behave yourself?" — her voice was sharp, laced with disappointment. — "You’ve already been called to the principal’s office, and you were supposed to apologize to Maddie. Or did I miss something? Why is this still happening?"
— "Because she…" — Mark began, but his voice faltered. He knew too well that any attempt to defend himself would only reinforce Maddie’s version of events. He saw the triumphant glint in her eyes, the expectation of another dramatic scene, and it infuriated him even more.
— "Because she what?" — Monica interrupted, her brows furrowed. — "Because you decided to pick another fight? I’m tired of your behavior, Emma. You’re always stirring up trouble, and then everyone else has to clean up the mess. You act like some rough man instead of a proper young lady! "
"Maybe because I am a man, Monica! Because I’m Mark, damn it!" — the thought flared up in his head, but instead, he shouted:
— "She’s lying! Why do you believe her and not even try to understand me? It’s obvious she’s making it all up!" — His voice trembled with a mix of hurt and rage, but it sounded more like the helpless cry of a teenager than the frustration of an adult.
Monica’s frown deepened as she slowly scanned her daughter from head to toe. Her eyes stopped on the smoldering cigarette on the ground, and her expression turned even grimmer.
— "You… smoke?" — Monica’s voice dropped a tone, as if she were trying to contain her anger. She slowly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. The moment felt stretched, like a cheap slow-motion scene in a bad movie.
— "Breathe," — she commanded curtly, pointing to her own face.
Mark’s heart sank. His knees felt weak, and his palms grew slick with sweat. Behind him, he heard the barely suppressed giggles of the girls. He cast a quick glance at them but immediately met Monica’s stern, demanding gaze. A moment ago, he had felt at least a bit like Mark—a confident man ready to stand his ground. But Monica’s piercing look and sharp tone stripped away the illusion, leaving him feeling like the flustered girl she believed him to be.
— "I’m waiting. Breathe, Emma."
Unbelieving that he was being treated like a child, he clenched his teeth and took a short breath. The exhale was faint, but Monica caught the scent immediately. Her face hardened further, and his cheeks burned with humiliation and fear.
Monica grabbed Emma’s arm firmly and started pulling her toward the house. Her expression remained cold and focused, but the corners of her eyes betrayed disappointment. Mark gritted his teeth and followed her, his cheeks blazing with shame. He cast a fleeting glance back at Maddie. She raised her eyebrows, feigning innocence, and said with a sweet tone:
— "Mrs. Livingston, I really was trying to make peace with Emma. I hope one day she stops being so angry."
Monica shot Maddie a brief look but said nothing.
"Choke on it, you bitch," — Mark thought angrily, but said nothing aloud. He barely managed to contain himself as Monica dragged him away, Maddie’s mocking gaze burning into his back.