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They all say I'm the school bully's loyal follower, until a month later when I left, and the school bully went crazy searching for me everywhere...
Chapter 1
On the day the college entrance exams ended, I overheard Vance Nunez say to his friends, "Lois? She's just my clingy follower."
I clenched my fists and stepped into their view.
His friends burst into laughter. "Lois, you better apologize to Vance, or he might actually ditch you."
I lowered my head and mumbled an apology.
Vance's eyes glinted with amusement. "No big deal. Go home and eat."
He didn't know I'd bought a ticket to a northern city and would leave in a month.
1
When I was seven, my father passed away, and my mother took me to live with a family friend.
She became their housekeeper, and I wasn't there to freeload. They assigned me to look after their son, Vance Nunez.
The first time we met, Vance wore a light blue shirt, his slightly curled hair lazily brushing his ears.
He looked like he'd just woken up, his eyes tinged with red. "What's your name?"
My mother had warned me not to upset this family, so I bowed my head and whispered, "Lois Fields."
"Hmph," the boy scoffed. "Boring."
I realized I was wearing a faded, threadbare T-shirt, my grubby appearance clearly not up to Vance's standards.
When my father was alive, I was a fearless little leader among kids, showered with love. But in the Nunez household, I had to keep my head down. I didn't want to make things hard for my mother.
For months after that, Vance didn't speak to me. I didn't mind. I quietly trailed behind him, tending to his meals and daily needs.
"Hey, I'm hungry. Make me some food!"
"You, grab me a drink from the fridge!"
"Lois, wash my clothes."
Vance was a year older than me, but he often acted childish. Though it stirred something in me, I never showed it.
Six months later, Vance fell down the stairs and broke his leg.
My mother was out grocery shopping, and Myra Nunez, his mom, was off with her friends, leaving just me and Vance at home.
I gritted my teeth and hoisted him onto my back.
Vance yelped in pain. "Hey, who said you could touch me?"
I was much smaller than him, and sweat beaded on my forehead as I carried him.
"Sorry, but I have to get you to help, or the pain will kill you."
Vance, in agony, kicked at me several times, but I swallowed the pain without a sound.
Half an hour later, I got him to the hospital. Vance, eyes brimming with tears, looked at me. "Don't leave. I'm scared."
His hand clutched my sleeve.
To this day, I still don't know why he held onto me back then.
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