I shut my locker and there was Sandra's pair of blue eyes and red-glossed lips beaming at me. Nothing unusual, since she was always ever happy. "Emery, I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Hi," I replied and put up a smile.

She pouted and I stretched my lips further. Pulling back the strands of her pale golden hair, she twirled around, her smile returning to her lips. "Notice anything different?"

Sandra wore a flamingo pink sleeveless dress. It was flared and stopped right below her thigh. A dusty brown knee-length four-inched boot elevated her height. Her face was well powdered. Nope, nothing extraordinarily different.

"No?" I answered. The expression on her pale face told me she wasn't quite satisfied with my answer. "Sorry. Nice dress," I sighed, clutching my binders and contemplating which was the best way to end the conversation: dashing to my class and explaining my reasons later in the day, or honestly telling her that I had a Chemistry test which she was well aware of.

She groaned and blinked dramatically. Her fake eyelashes followed the movement of her lids. "I was talking about my bracelet, Em."

"Oh." A pearl bracelet did wrap around Sandra's right wrist. I didn't find it particularly special. I just hadn't seen it before and did not expect Sandra to go around carrying things around her pale wrist, other than her golden wristwatch on her left wrist, of course. "Where did you get it?" Not like I cared though, considering that it was just a pearl bracelet.

"Why, King gave it to me, of course," she said proudly, raising her voice a notch higher, so everyone in the corridor, getting their homework, binders, or books from their lockers could hear her. There wasn't a need for that since Sandra Khaling was well known.

Sandra Khaling, the best cheerleader and most beautiful girl in Rose-Gold High. Well, that's what everyone thought. That is, excluding me, for sure. She was just a really good friend. Well, she was the only person I considered a friend.

I never remembered meeting Sandra. We attended the same school, from kindergarten, I was told. She had always been in my life. But, I guess, the one reason I stuck to her was, without her, my mother wouldn't have been alive.

King Isnaul walked past us. I clenched my fist, wishing he'd ignore us and keep going. However, Sandra had other plans.

"Yoo-hoo! King!" She squealed in her high-pitched voice, something I was not blessed with.

King turned around and put his hands in either side of the pockets of his leather jacket. He walked to us and flashed a smile, to which I responded by attempting a genuine smile.

Sandra responded by throwing her hands around him. "I was just telling Emery about the pearl bracelet you gave me."

King politely slipped out of the hold close and faced me instead. "Shouldn't you be at the Chemistry laboratory or something?" I hadn't forgotten about it, it was just King's being there.

King Isnaul was one of Rose-Gold's best basketball players, beside his friends: Cole and Bryan.

I admired him, almost everyone did. I mean, who wouldn't admire his brown eyes and his rose lips? Or his black hair which always pulled out front and then he'd look cool by running his fingers through them to put them back to place, only to watch them fall out again.

King Isnaul was different from the other boys. He was decent, but not completely out of the bad boy category. He was good-bad, bad-good, pretty much. And Sandra loved him, and she made it fantastically known.

Everyone could see how much Sandra cherished King and how King constantly reciprocated the feeling.

With my binders in one hand, I pulled down the zip of my body warmer and smiled at King. "I should, silly me. I came to pick a few notes from my locker, and all." My eyes located Sandra, who was now standing beside King, her right hand around his waist, bright and breezy as always. "See you at lunch."

I walked hastily, afraid she would call me back. It was torture watching Sandra and King together, pretty much. Sandra King, Sandra Khaling-Isnaul, Sandra King Khaling-Isnaul. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I huffed just as I made my way to the laboratory and opened the door.

Despite how late I was, there were still so many students yet to come to class. Our chemistry teacher, while he waited, clasped the burettes with the retort stands and I knew at that moment that our practical test would be based on titration.

"Good morning, Mr Steve." I acknowledged his presence and, in a way, made my presence known.

The students present looked up, but when they glanced at me, their faces turned neutral. I felt invisible. I heard a few murmurings but soon, they continued with whatever they were doing. I shrugged and made my way to our Chemistry teacher. He was a young man and the topic of jobless girls' discussions.

I helped Steve, placing three beakers on each table like a waitress. With time, the laboratory was ready and every student was present. It was a two-person desk so I partnered with Emily, a quiet girl who wouldn't bravely ask anyone to be her partner.

Josh Watson and his twin brother, George, were by the table just in front of me. Their intimidating body turned around and grinned at me and I bent my head low, pretending I hadn't seen them. I picked a beaker and turned to my partner, "The acid goes in."

She nodded, took the beaker from my hand and poured it into the burette. I completely focused my whole being on Emily Aniah and the project. In other words, I dared not look up in the direction of the sturdy twins.

***

I needed to get out of school before Josh and George could catch up with me. According to the grapevine, I had ignored them during the test. It was not unusual for I had expected it. The Watson's always found a fault in me every single day, or maybe it's my slim figure they could pounce on that they admired. Either way, I didn't want to meet them.

I collided with a wall. The kind that could grip my waist and affront me, I realized later. "Emery, where are you running to?"

I held the strap of my school bag and tried to walk away, pretending to be unaffected or unafraid. Josh's right hand gripped mine and he pushed me to the wall, not minding, not once, that my head had kissed the wall so much, thanks to them. "Leave me alone!" I thought I was being assertive until a slap from George reminded me that they didn't care.

"We failed that stupid test because of you!" George spat. I turned away and struggled in vain to free myself from Josh's hold.

"No, you botched the stupid test because your dim-witted muscle for a brain didn't prepare for it." It was only after the words had rolled out of my lips that I recognized what mistake I had just made.

I closed my eyes to receive a slap which I half-expected, alongside a blow on my abdomen. Josh let me go and I fell to the floor, clutching my ribs tightly and groaning in pain. We were right in the corridor so I wondered why no one could help or see me. I mean, I wasn't that invisible. Where was Sandra when I needed her the most? Or King?

Josh knelt beside me, ready to hit me again, and I knew at that moment that I had to apologize, show him that yes, he was strong and more powerful than me, no matter how much I detested him. "I'm sorry, Josh. Please!" I hissed, wishing, like times before, that I could fight.

"You're aware of the homework given to us?"

"Yes," I replied, almost immediately. I clutched my stomach tighter and groaned.

He reached for his black leather briefcase for a bag and placed two yellow sheets on the floor. "Tomorrow morning, nine a.m. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," I muttered yet again, almost breathlessly.

Josh and George bounced away and it was just me and my purple school bag on the floor. I suddenly hated my lips for not talking when it was time to do so, and for blabbing when it was utterly uncalled for. I sat on the floor and rested my head on the wall, reached for my water bottle and took a mouthful from it.

Sighing, I forced myself up and staggered out of the school and to the school bus. The bus attendant scolded me for coming late and mumbled something about teenagers being too nonchalant and disrespectful. I gently entered the bus and trudged to my self-reserved seat which was a spot close to the window.

I closed my eyes but did not dare sleep.

***

Mum and my little sister, Nora, were the only ones around when I got home. They were in the living room watching a kid series on the television. Well, Nora's eyes were glued to the screen, while mum read a book. I consciously shut the door louder than I had opened it and mum looked up.

"Sweetie, how was school?"

I dared bring up the topic mum was tired of. "I have good grades, mum, so why can't I go to a better school?"

"Rose-Gold is the best I have seen," she countered. "And a good afternoon to you too," she added acerbically, sighed and continued to read her book.

"Why shouldn't I change school?"

"Why should you?"

"Because I get browbeaten!" I screamed and threw my bag to the floor. My stomach slightly hurt from that sudden movement. Nora shrieked. Mum stared at me in anger. She stood up and came to me, her hand threatening to slap me but not making any move.

"Enough of all this nonsense, Emery. Pick your bag, have a bath and do whatever it is you teenagers do."

"Mum—"

"Now!"

"I hate you!" I screamed.

A liquid escaped from the holds of my cornea and ran down my cheeks, and another, and another, till it was enough to call them tears. I picked up my bag, ran over the brown two-seater sofa and up the stairs till I was in my room. I shut the door and threw my bag onto the four-poster bed. Because I respected my watch, I gently placed it on the bedside table.

I sighed. A bath could fix this. Trying so hard to contain my tears, I pulled off my baseball boots and T-shirt and tossed them away. My bath towel was half-lying on the bedside table thanks to my carelessness so I grabbed it and wrapped it around my skinny light brown skin.

When I turned again, a young man was seated on my bed and staring at me. In my moment of shriek, my hands went up and my bath towel left my body and fell to the floor. I shifted back semi-consciously and tripped on my legs.

WHAT THE HELL!

.

A/N

Hey, there! Thank you for choosing to read Saving Neba. This is my first real attempt at writing a fantasy novel, besides my many drafts and all.

Just like my characters develop as the story goes, so does my writing. I assure you that it gets better as you read on :)

Your support — through votes and comments — is highly appreciated.