Holly stepped off the stuffy school bus into the cool spring air. As always, she was wearing her armor. It was invisible, but everyone knew it was there, even the teachers. The sea of students parted as she walked down the school walkway. It made her feel important and lonely at the same time. The feeling was one she had grown used to over the years. Holly converted the feeling to fuel as she entered the building.
Spring break was over, leaving less than half of her sophomore year ahead. For the most part, she had spent the break alone. Holly had no idea what anyone at school had done on vacation. She guessed there was plenty of hanging out with friends. It was something she didn't dwell on. There was no reason to.
Up ahead, obviously in her own little world, was her first target. Blonde, bouncy curls spilled over a pink backpack. She got closer, and spotted a charm bracelet sparkling on a thin wrist. The halls were almost empty since the first bell had rung.
The curly blonde had on clean white canvas sneakers and they called out to Holly. She grinned a wicked grin that made her look a bit crazy. She was just a few feet behind the blonde girl now. The faint smell of strawberries, probably the girl's shampoo, filled the hall.
Holly took a giant step. The toe of her boot slid down the girl's heel, causing her shoe to come loose. Before the girl could react, Holly did it again to the other shoe. The pretty white sneakers were now like flip-flops. As an added bonus, there were black smudges on the backs.
The girl whirled around and Holly saw anger on her face. Almost immediately, the anger turned to a look of indifference. Holly knew it was really a mask for fear.
"What?" Holly asked, with mock innocence.
The girl's cheeks flushed red.
Mrs. Woods was standing in the doorway of her classroom, watching them. Holly scolded herself for not noticing, for being careless. She walked with her head down to the end of the hall. She slipped out the door, knowing the teacher wouldn't follow. She stood on the step outside and studied her boots in the sunlight. The second bell rang and she knew she'd be late to class. That was fine.
Mr. Ward said nothing as she strode in, taking her seat in back. Holly knew he would mark her tardy, but didn't care. She could do whatever algebra problems he assigned, no sweat. She could have gotten As, but chose to fly under the radar. Cs were good enough and didn't come with the risk of attention.
Mr. Ward, like all the other teachers, had learned Holly's code. Leave her alone and she would make things easy during class. Don't dare call her by her given name. Don't dare call on her at all. Adults could be controlled almost as easily as teenagers, Holly had learned.
She bent her head as she worked. Her long brown hair created a curtain that kept the world out. Math calmed her mind because it made perfect sense. The numbers she wrote were small and neat.
After math came World History with Mrs. Woods. If she had seen the game Holly had played that morning, she didn't say a word, just as Holly predicted. She stared down at her dirty fingernails as the teacher droned on.
After History came Spanish, and after Spanish came lunch. She began to strategize. She reminded herself it was better to be feared and respected than liked.
She saw an empty table and made a beeline for it. The table was in a corner. Perfect. Holly set her tray down and began to eat the bland food. She checked her phone while she ate. No one spoke to her, which was just the way she liked it.
The tension slowly began to drain from her body.
Then a voice ruined everything. "Look, it's Holland," the voice said. It was a boy.
Her blood began to boil. She made no move to look at him. She had almost made it through lunch. Almost.
"Big as a country," another voice answered. This one was higher pitched and clearly belonged to a follower.
The leader spoke again. "She doesn't look like she's from Holland at all."
Holly willed herself to stay silent, knowing that in ten minutes she'd be headed to class. From the corner of her eye she saw the two boys leave.
They had on team jackets with varsity letters, and they were laughing at her. Their words dug under her skin like a disease. The sickness was contagious and would soon be passed on.
Most people didn't know this, but Holland wasn't actually a country. It was a region on the western coast of the Netherlands.
