Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) by Vera Hollins (romance novel chinese novels .TXT) 📕

Besides, how many people have already told you so on your channel? And they’re absolutely right—your voice is angelic, and you can convey so much through your songs. I can’t wait for the day when I hear your record went platinum.”

My chest grew warm at that thought. A platinum record. That was something I wanted more than anything—for me to be able to reach as many people as possible and touch their hearts with my songs.

I could do that. I had to believe in myself.

“I guess my solo next Saturday is the first big step. I’ll finally do a public performance, and I’ll also use that opportunity to reveal myself on my channel. Kev is going to film it with his GoPro, and I’ll post the video on my channel.”

Mel snapped her fingers. “Now that’s an excellent idea! You’re going to kill it.”

I smiled, unease already filling my stomach. I really hoped she was right.

Several days had passed, and each was an embodiment of yearning and dejection. Blake didn’t even look in my direction, let alone talk to me, treating me like I’d never existed, and I tried to convince myself it was for the best. I kept telling myself none of it would matter once I went to college and started building my future, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t all right.

It was hard seeing him pass me in the hallways, talking with others, or even smiling with someone else. It was hard sitting so close to him in U.S. history. Every night, I cried myself to sleep, tortured little by little by the memory of that sunflower field and fantasies of Blake and me in heated embraces, and it was hard to move on.

And then there was the promise that loomed over his life. I saw him arguing with Hayden and Masen at school a few times, managing to hear snippets of their conversations. I couldn’t make out much, but one thing was clear—Hayden and Masen were against Blake’s desire for revenge. This only doubled the fear I felt for Blake, making it even harder for me to stand aside as he walked straight into something that wouldn’t end well at all.

I poured all my energy into my upcoming solo and used those long hours of playing and singing as my outlet. I grew more nervous as Saturday approached, hoping I wouldn’t chicken out at the last minute and realize it was too big a step for me to take.

The song was important in more ways than one since it was my confession and means of apology to Blake. He wouldn’t allow me to show him how sorry I was, but he’d helped me on Monday, and that had to count for something. I just hoped my lyrics would reach him and prove to him how I truly felt.

The days rolled by quickly, and the school festival arrived with a bang—the opening ceremony in the gym brought the huge but long-overdue surprise that Principal Anders was history. We’d expected him to show up and give a speech, but instead of him, the representative of the new school board took the stage and announced their decision to appoint one of the teachers, Kalifa Aguda, as the new principal. She was a good teacher who actually cared about her students, so this news was a sign of a great change.

Mrs. Aguda spoke about the changes that were becoming effective in the next few weeks, starting with the security cameras they were going to install on Monday and the anti-bullying training all the staff had to undergo. This was followed by loud applause, and then the festival officially started.

The school had organized various activities for the weekend, now crowded with students and parents who moved from one activity to the next. The psychologists manned the booths in the lobby, and both victims and bullies were encouraged to share their stories. Posters that spoke about the short- and long-term consequences of bullying were plastered all over the hallways, and some students wore badges and shirts with slogans like “Say no to bullying, Say yes to unity” and “Bullying—Nay. Peace—Yay.”

Melissa, Shreya Wilkins, and the rest of the student council had contacted a few students who were willing to talk publicly about their experiences with bullying, and they were part of the workshop scheduled for later in the day. Showings of bullying documentaries took place on the second floor, and to attract more people, our biology teacher promised free popcorn and soda for the viewers.

The stands for students to sell their crafts or used belongings were placed near the lobby, and all earnings went to anti-bullying organizations. Mel, Sar, and I were stationed at one of the stands. We sold clay figurines and Sarah’s printed drawings that sat on the mini easel stands. Half of them had already been purchased.

Hayden stopped by to see Sar, and Blake was with him. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he looked at everything and everyone except me, and I could hardly act normal. I tried to catch his gaze, but it was pointless.

His face didn’t reveal his thoughts, but I noticed how worn out he looked. He had dark circles under his eyes, and there was something deeply sad in the depths of them that hammered even more guilt into me.

I didn’t see him again until the charity basketball game between East Windsor and our school, in which Blake, Hayden, and Masen played. The game, which was scheduled right before the choir and solo segments, was about to start, and girls couldn’t stop swooning over the players, flocking around them like flies to honey.

The excitement hung heavy in the air as Sar, Mel, Kev, Marcus, Steven, and I sat in the first row, and it was hard not to stare at Blake, who looked so hot in his black basketball uniform. I wasn’t the only one to stare. Many girls stared, and they stared a lot. A few of