Chapter Text
Josie both loved and hated Mondays. Mondays signaled the beginning of a new week. Weekdays meant school. School meant getting a break from all the yelling, the fighting, and the breaking of things that her parents tried to explain away with lame excuses like, “it slipped” or “it was an accident.”
“We’re eight, not idiots,” Josie would always say before climbing back up the stairs and locking herself in her room with her sister.
But along with the peace that school brought her, it also brought its challenges. Thinking about what was waiting for her back at home did not help her concentration, and neither did the anticipation of what was waiting for her at recess.
For as long as she could remember, Dana had made it her life’s mission to make Josie miserable. They had met on the very first day of the first grade. And that very same day, Dana decided she didn’t like Josie.
Josie was a model student. She was kind to everyone, she participated, and was always quick to volunteer whenever the teacher asked for help which meant she always went home with a gold star stuck to her shirt or her cheek or her coloring page, and Dana didn’t like that. She wanted to be the star student. She wanted the gold stars and the praise from their teacher.
And so the rivalry began.
For the rest of that first year Dana would mess with Josie in ways that caused her confusion and distress more than anything. She wouldn’t do so directly, she was more cunning than that, even at the young age of six. She would wait until the teacher wasn’t looking, then she’d go to the back of the room and take something from Josie’s cubby, typically a stuffed animal or something from her lunch box. Whenever she was accused, she acted oblivious.
In second grade she added on to that and started making mean comments. Sometimes it was direct, whenever Josie was alone, sometimes Dana would drop a note into Josie’s desk on her way out to the playground. And because Josie was afraid of her, afraid of making the problem worse instead of making it disappear, she kept quiet, telling no one. Not even her twin sister who she trusted more than anyone on the planet out of fear that Lizzie would retaliate and get in trouble.
This year, Dana took action. Now she was no longer just stealing things out of her desk, or passing her hateful notes during class. She now resorted to tripping her in the halls, claiming she hadn’t seen her, or calling her clumsy. While passing by Josie’s desk on her way to sharpen her pencil she’d pull her hair or kick her backpack, quickly apologizing to avoid getting reprimanded by her teacher, not because she meant it.
It didn’t happen everyday, which made it even worse for Josie. If it happened everyday she would be prepared, she would see it coming, she could expect it. But it didn’t. Sometimes days passed between attacks, sometimes weeks. With every passing minute that Dana didn’t say something or do something to her Josie felt like she was suffocating, holding her breath. Every day was a waking nightmare and all Josie wanted, all she asked of God or the universe or whoever was listening, was for it to stop.
The moment the bell rang, students began to file out of the room, including Dana. Josie, seeing the way she looked at her as she walked by her desk, decided it would be a good idea to wait until everyone had left, so she delayed her exit by putting her math worksheets away and setting out her spelling notebook.
Lizzie wasn’t in school today, so Josie walked to the cafeteria alone. Luckily, she’d stayed back long enough that by the time she got her lunch and made it to the cafeteria, Dana was already sitting at their class’s table with the rest of her friends.
She ate her lunch in peace, breathing a little easier when she saw that Dana, Amber, and Jade had gotten excused before everyone else. By the time she was excused and wandered out to the playground she was feeling a lot better, thinking to herself that maybe she had imagined the side glance she’d gotten from Dana earlier.
Mere minutes after making it to the monkey bars she realized just how wrong she was.
She’d just made it across the red bars and dropped to the ground, landing on the balls of her feet when she felt two hands on her shoulder, shoving her forcefully to the wood chip-covered floor. The deafening roar of laughter that started up after she fell brought about a feeling of defeat and a wave of emotion, but she’d promised herself that she’d never let Dana see her cry, and she wasn’t about to break that promise now.
“Oops,” Dana said sarcastically. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“Your eyesight must really suck then,” a voice said. It sounded like it was coming from the basketball court. It was a voice that Josie didn’t recognize.
She lifted her head, turning it slightly to the right, and there she was. The short, auburn haired girl with the brilliant blue eyes that had just joined her class earlier in the week was walking towards her. Her eyebrows were drawn in, her eyes set on Dana, probably shooting imaginary daggers into her head.
She stopped right in front of Josie, then tore her eyes away from the blonde to look down, reaching out a hand. Josie took it gratefully and got to her feet.
“This is none of your business, new girl.” Dana crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d leave before the same thing happens to you.”
The girl -- Hope, Josie thought, remembering her introduction from Monday -- smiled at Dana in a way that made the blonde take a half-step back.
“Try it. I dare you.”
Dana had no response. She didn’t even try to make a comeback. She simply uncrossed her arms, turned around, and left with her friends trailing behind her, looking just as irritated and defeated as she did. It was a sight Josie would never forget.
When the girls were no longer visible, Hope turned around and looked at the group of bystanders, shooting them a death glare worse than the one Dana got. They all scattered, and seconds later it looked like nothing had happened.
Hope turned her attention over to Josie. The death glare was gone, replaced by a look of genuine concern and a small smile.
“Are you okay?”
Josie nodded, pulling wood chips out of her palms and dusting off the front of her shirt and jeans.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she smiled. “Thank you.”
“No problem. How are your hands?”
Josie looked down and flipped her hands over. She hadn’t noticed when she pulled the wood out, but some of them had gone in deep enough to make her palms bleed. She grimaced as she poked at one of the small holes, producing a little bit of blood.
“Worse than I thought,” Josie chuckled nervously.
Hope examined her for a few seconds before making a decision.
“Come with me,” she said, and started walking in the direction of the classrooms.
Josie, not really knowing what to do in this situation, ran after her and fell into step with her as soon as she caught up. For a second she worried that she was leading her to the nurse’s office, which would mean having to lie about what happened -- which she hated doing -- but quickly the fear vanished when Hope pushed open the door to the girl’s bathroom.
While Josie washed away the dirt and picked splinters out of her hand, they talked.
“You’re Josie, right?” Hope asked, leaning against the wall, watching the brunette curiously.
Josie nodded. “And you’re Hope?”
Hope smiled. “Yeah.” Then, remembering what had just happened, her smile was replaced by a frown. “Does that happen a lot? With that girl?”
“Dana,” Josie said, the name leaving behind a bitter taste in her mouth. “It doesn’t happen a lot. Only sometimes. Mostly when my sister isn’t here.”
“And she wasn’t here today.”
“No.”
Hope tilted her head slightly, trying to understand. “What about your friends? Why didn’t they do something?”
Josie’s eyes fell to her hand and all of a sudden she was concentrating very hard on trying to take out a particularly stubborn splinter.
“Josie?”
The brunette sighed. “I don’t have any friends.”
Hope didn’t say anything. Josie honestly expected her to call her a freak, turn around, walk out the door, and never talk to her again, but she didn’t. She didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity, but eventually she took a step closer and held out a paper towel she’d been hanging on to for a while now.
“Well, now you have one.”
Josie let the water stop, shook out her hands, and took it with a grateful smile.
After that day, Dana mostly backed off. Three weeks after the incident she tripped Josie in the hallway on their way to class and, in retaliation, received a very forceful hair-pull from Hope, earning them both a three day suspension -- after Hope explained why she’d pulled her hair.
In seventh grade, after four years of peace -- mostly due to the fact that they hadn’t had a class together up until that point -- Dana tried to mess with Josie by pulling the classic hiding-all-of-her-clothes-from-her-while-she’s-in-the-shower prank. She regretted it three days later when she opened her locker and found that someone had dumped roughly about five cans of sardines all over her notebooks, textbooks, and gym clothes. Hope never got in trouble but only because they could never prove it was her, even though they all knew it was.
The day Hope came into her life was the day everything changed for Josie. It was the day she finally understood why people would deem someone their best friend as opposed to just a regular friend.
That was the day she started looking forward to Mondays again.