It was a clear winters night, the sun not yet set over the small town that I had spent my childhood years in. My mom was out of town, a friend soon to come over to work on spelling words for the Spelling Bee. It was mid- January, still cold, but no sparkling snow graced the frozen ground. Dead grass blew in the harsh wind. My dad stood, ready to go get dinner for the both of us.

A knock came to the door, startling both of us. Knock- knock- knock- knock- knock. A pause followed, filling the room with a silence that was soon shattered. Knock- knock. My dad opened the door, and outside was my math teacher, beloved and looking cold. My dad let her inside, and she seemed in a rush.

“What are you doing here, Mrs. Werner?” my dad asked politely, offering her his chair. She refused, and I stayed seated. Whatever my teacher was here for, it wasn’t good. Her blue eyes shone with something unimaginable, like a great sorrow or loss.

“I’m actually here mostly in teacher mode, but also in mom mode. I have some bad news for the both of you.” My mind leapt to the thought of my mom in D.C., but then a more logical thought took over. My teacher wouldn’t know if my mom was in trouble before we did, would she?

“Ok…” My dad said, and my teacher nodded for him to sit back down. My heart was already pounding, and Mrs. Werner hadn’t spoken a word of what was going on. I settled back into the large tan recliner I was sitting in, pulling my legs up to my chest.

“Grace, some girls took a picture of you changing in the locker room and sent it on Snap Chat. This happened sometime last week.” My heart stopped. I felt numb, violated. Changing? In the locker room? Who would do that, to me? I was nice to everyone, kept to myself, for the most part. I wasn’t prime bullying material.

“Ok.” Dad was being calm, but I could see that his face was taut with rage. He seemed ready to attack, even though my teacher was the bearer of bad news, not the perpetrator. I forced myself to take a deep breath, while they talked. I tuned them out, my thoughts racing in my mind like a tornado, a dust devil full of words and pictures.

“Do you want to know who?” Mrs. Werner asked, and all I did was shake my head no. I was sure I would find out anyway, but I couldn’t manage to speak. I shook my head no again, swallowing thickly. Sharp pains kept hitting my heart, but the rest of me was numb. My heart and my mind were the only things bothering me, the dust devil of thoughts in my mind and the pain in my heart.

“Grace, go to your room. Call your mother.” I grabbed my phone and left, my numb body responding to the command like a trained solider going to war. I didn’t object, and had no intention of being the one to break the news to my mother, thousands of miles away. Instead, I pushed an ear bud into my ear and sat on my plaid bed, staring at my bookshelf full of books I had read a long time ago. I clicked on ‘Just Keep Breathing’ by We The Kings, hoping the familiar melody would calm me down. It didn’t work.

“I would like to know, Mary.” My dad said, and I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be ignoring them. As she said the names, I gasped in surprise. Those girls? I could almost picture it, almost. They were the mean girls, the ones who didn’t quite follow the rules and thought they were all that because they were ‘gangsters’. I tried not to roll my eyes as my dad conducted a verbal background check, something I could have told him easily. They’ve never been in trouble because they don’t get caught. They don’t not like me, but they don’t like me. No, I’ve never had a problem with them before.

Instead I tuned them out, changing the song and putting my other ear bud into my ear. I sat there for who knows how long, staring off into space and listening to songs that didn’t register in my mind at the time. Soon, my dad opened the door. I pulled out an ear bud, casting my eyes toward him.

“Did you call your mother?” I nodded no, and he went and called her. They spoke, and I answered her questions when she asked. I still felt numb, even as the shock wore off. I was numb, empty, exposed. And there was no way to fix it.

My friend came over, and I was bursting to tell someone. I told her, and we did spelling words. She went home late, but I still didn’t cry. There was no point to, wasting energy like that. I went to bed that night numb, my thoughts finally quieting and fell into a deep, restless sleep. I dreamt of camera flashes and laughing kids, odd looks and sneers. I don’t remember the rest of my dreams.