Broken Girl (tobyMac)

Chapter 8

Brianna
Lincoln and his team of fellow demons work fast. By lunch, just about everyone in the school has caught onto the game that I actually died. And just about everyone is calling me Bloody. And not a word about it from any of the faculty. This just… it doesn’t make any sense.
I mean, I get that no one cares that I tried to kill myself. But the person getting bulled could be anyone else – anyone who actually mattered to a lot of people. I just don’t get why no one would care enough to try to stop these jerks before I actually succeed and they move on to someone else.
I guess I’ve heard that bullying runs high in performing arts schools, and this is the best one in Nashville for high schoolers. But I guess… I just never thought it would happen to me.
I was stupid.
I melt into a corner of the commons, focusing on blending into the wall. I’m certainly not going to eat anything. Sneering comments come from the lips of those passing, but I manage to ignore them for the most part, plugging in my earbuds and starting some music.
I see an Instagram notification for a new follower. Great. Who’s it gonna be this time?
I tap on the first. tobyMac. Wait… tobyMac?
Okay. I guess he looked me up.
I close my eyes, trying to let what just happened sink in. I… don’t even know what to think.
At least I don’t have to worry about following back. I mean, I’ve been following him literally since I got an Instagram account.
With my earbuds in, I manage to have a fairly peaceful lunch period. And I just ignore the rest of the remarks that fill the school day. At least, I try to.
Even though the whispers of my classmates try to drag me down, my two periods of dance classes are by far the highlight of my day. It’s just… everything is so simple when you’re dancing. Whether is flying through a lyrical combination or striving for perfection during bar work, everything is just… better.

So it hasn’t exactly been my ideal last day on planet earth. But at least it’s convinced me to actually use that bridge on the way home.
I plug in my earbuds again as I prepare to exit the school building, but this time, I put on a mix of crossover songs from my favorite artists. I don’t want a repeat of Toby convincing me to literally keep walking. Owl City’s “Fireflies” comes on, and I nod in satisfaction. Perfect.
But as I see the park that borders our school, the open field suddenly seems all too inviting. It’s been so long since I danced one of the pieces I choreographed. And I’d like to do it one last time before I die.
My mind made up, I walk over, finding shelter behind the school, and flip through my music until I find “Me Without You”. I choreographed it quite a while ago, but I still remember it. It’s how I de-stress.
I crank my volume just loud enough so that I’ll be able to hear it, set it in the grass, and press play.
And I lose myself in the dance. All the way until the end, I’m as free as it gets, like I’m flying with the music notes, not even touching the ground I dance.
It’s like a pull back to earth when the song ends. But I’m still glad I did it. It was like a taste of the Heaven that I’m about to go be in.
I stoop and pick up the phone, pausing it before it starts the next song.
And a voice scares me half to death.
“Hey, so, I’m sorry for, like, spying on you, but I just want to say that what you just did was really good.”
I look up sharply, to find a dark, curly-haired girl about my age standing several yards away. I open my mouth, but no words come out. What did I just do? And why does this girl look vaguely familiar?
“I love that song,” she continues. “It’s one of my favorites of my-“ She stops, seeming to reconsider what she was going to say. “Of tobyMac’s.”
“Um… yeah,” I manage. “Me too.”
She crosses the distance between us and holds out her hand to me. “I’m Marlee.”
“Bri,” I choke out, shaking her hand hesitantly. Seriously, what am I forgetting here?
“So, I’m assuming that if you can dance like that, you go to school there?” she asks, gesturing to the building behind us.
“Uh, yeah…” I reply carefully. “I mean, I go there, but compared to the others, I totally suck.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she laughs. “But that’s cool. That you go there, I mean.”
“I guess.” I shrug. “I’m assuming you don’t?”
“Oh, no,” she says easily. “I actually live in Franklin, but, you know, my dad works here, and we honestly spend more time here than there. But I go to school there. I’m just here with my dad.”
I nod slowly. Because of our extra periods for our chosen arts, we get out an hour later than normal schools.
“So, where’s he?” I ask, trying to keep the subject off of me.
“Oh, he had to take a phone call, and I kinda wandered off.” She laughs. “My older brother is around here somewhere, but I’m not sure where he is either.”
I just nod again. I don’t really know what else to do.
“Hey, Bloody!” I whirl at the familiar sound of Lincoln’s voice from across the lawn. “Did you forget about the service?”
Wait, were they being serious?
“What did he just call you?” Marlee asks, her brow creasing in confusion.
“Um… nothing…” I falter. “I’ll… I’ll be right back.”
I don’t want her to see this. I’m not sure why… I just don’t.
And I cross to where Lincoln’s standing. I can feel Marlee’s eyes on me as I go.
“What do you want?” I ask quietly when I reach him.
“We just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about the funeral,” he replies with an evil grin. “Let’s go, before it starts without us.”
And he takes hold of my wrist and drags me around the corner of the school building.
As soon as I see what’s around it, I stop in my tracks, and Lincoln lets me, his smirk only growing.
Because there, on an old card table, with my classmates gathered around it, all dressed in black, is a literal memorial to me. Except, even from several feet away, I know it’s less than honoring.