Still Falling THE BULLYING CONTINUES
The stairwell between second and third floor still held Karen's laugh before Val cleared the landing. Mina's voice followed—sharp enough to carry through the crush.
"—still trying so hard. Every hallway, every bus, those girls glued to him like he paid them."
Sel snorted. "Imagine your playlist. Gross."
"K-pop? Please." Mina again, louder. "He's creepy. John was right—he'd only break your heart if you were dumb enough to—"
Val didn't stop. His ears burned. He let the bodies between classes swallow him and kept his eyes on the next flight up, jaw tight, the words sticking like gum he couldn't scrape off.
Half the tables sat empty in the library—quiet enough to hear a page turn. Ashley looked up from their corner first, gold hair catching the window stripe. Liz was beside her with two chairs already angled open. Val dropped into the spare seat and stared at the table grain.
Ashley leaned in. "Hey. What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Liz traded a look with Ashley. "Your face isn't doing nothing."
He exhaled through his nose. "Mina. Karen. Sel. Stairwell." That was as much as he wanted to give them.
Ashley's mouth tightened. "Mina's being cruel."
"They always are," Liz said. "Jealous. You actually have friends who like you—they're mad they don't."
"We've known you since primary," Ashley said. "That's not who you are."
Liz slid her bag off the extra chair and bumped his shoulder with hers—hard enough to sting, soft enough to mean it. Ashley shoved a granola bar across the table without ceremony. Val broke the wrapper and ate because his hands needed something to do. The corner went quiet except for the hum of the HVAC and distant shelving cart wheels.
His chest loosened one notch.
Ashley waited until he'd swallowed the last bite, then her grin flickered back on—smaller than usual, testing the water.
"Okay, fine," she said. "But be real. Dawn on the morning bus, Mei and Xian everywhere else—"
Liz picked it up, grinning now. "Three girlfriends?"
Color climbed Val's throat again. "No—that's not—it's really not like that."
Ashley laughed. Liz clapped a hand over her mouth and lost anyway. This time the sound sat next to him instead of above him—primary-school loud, familiar, not meant to draw blood.
Homeroom's bell threaded through the stacks. Val pushed up on legs that still felt overexposed, cheeks pink, shoulders lower than when he'd climbed the stairs. He left the corner warmer than he'd found it.