The School Bully Made My Life Hell for a Year. Then I Found Out We Have the Same Mother. Chapter 1

I endured a year of relentless bullying from the school’s worst delinquent, Tristan.

Whenever my head was being violently shoved into a filthy bathroom sink, his face would always twist into an expression of sick, unhinged pleasure.

I never understood why he targeted me.

Until the day I fought back, accidentally snapping the chain of his most prized pocket watch. Inside was a faded photograph—of my mother, posing with him.

That was the day I realized he was my older half-brother.

The son my mother had abandoned years ago after he broke her heart.

He bullied me because he hated me.

That night, when I went home, I stopped hiding my bruises. When my mother frantically asked what happened, I let all my grievance pour out: "Mom... someone at school is hurting me. Will you come stand up for me?"

* * *

Riiing—

The second the final bell rang, my entire body involuntarily flinched.

The moment the teacher stepped out of the classroom, I grabbed my backpack and bolted.

But I was still caught at the bottom of the stairwell.

A group of guys in varsity jackets saw me and their eyes lit up. "Tristan was right! The little bitch really did try to run!"

I was shaking all over. My instinct was to spin around and flee, but the second I turned, someone grabbed my collar with terrifying force.

I smelled the faint scent of nicotine...

It was Tristan.

The mastermind behind the year of absolute hell I had endured at this school.

I'm dead, I thought, despair flooding my chest.

Within seconds, I was dragged up the stairs by my arms to the top floor of the building.

There were no classrooms up here, just an abandoned boys' restroom that was slated for renovation.

This was their "lawless zone." The place where they tortured me.

I never understood why, out of hundreds of kids in this school, Tristan zeroed in on me.

Our school was a combined middle and high school campus.

I was just a seventh grader. He was a junior in high school.

I couldn't figure out how someone as completely average as me could make him hate me so much.

From my very first day of school, he had been in my line of sight.

He would stand outside my classroom windows, staring at me with this dark, venomous look. Like a viper locking onto its prey.

Whenever he bullied me, his face would twist into this terrifying, manic glee.

SLAM—

I was shoved violently into the bathroom.

My body slammed against the rusted stall door, my arms instantly going numb from the impact.

"Didn't he tell you to come up here on your own after the bell?"

One of the guys slapped the back of my head. "Why the hell were you running?"

When I didn't answer, he slapped me hard across the cheek.

These guys were Tristan's lackeys. His personal enforcers.

I clenched my fists, forcing my voice out through my tight throat. "Today is my mom's birthday. I just wanted to go home and celebrate with her."

I was so terrified I didn't notice that Tristan, who had been leaning against the tiled wall with a blank expression, instantly went completely dark the second I said those words.

He marched over and violently shoved the guy standing in front of me out of the way.

Tristan was tall and incredibly strong.

He grabbed me by the collar of my hoodie, forcing me onto my tiptoes so I was looking him dead in the eye.

"Who the hell do you think you are..." Tristan ground out between clenched teeth.

His eyes were twitching, his breathing ragged, like he was using every ounce of his willpower to restrain himself from snapping my neck.

Before I could even process why he was suddenly so furious, he dragged me over to the row of sinks.

The water in the clogged basin was brown, foul, and stagnant.

Without a second of hesitation, Tristan shoved my head directly into the filthy water.

Suffocation hit me instantly. I thrashed wildly, my lungs burning.

I genuinely felt like Tristan was actually trying to murder me.

Why?!

My hands clawed blindly at the air, trying to grab onto anything to pull myself up.

In my panicked struggling, my fingers caught onto Tristan's shirt.

And then, they hooked onto a thick metal chain around his neck.

"Let go, you little freak!"

Someone stepped forward to pry my hands off, but as I was yanked back, the chain snapped.

A heavy, metallic clatter echoed against the floor tiles.

It was like Tristan woke up from a trance. He instantly let go of me.

I collapsed onto the wet floor, completely exhausted, gasping desperately for air.

When my vision cleared, I saw something bizarre. Tristan was on his hands and knees on the filthy floor, frantically searching for something.

He looked panicked, his hands visibly shaking. "Where is it?! Where is it?!"

"Find it! Find it right fucking now!" he roared.

The lackeys, who had been standing around stunned, snapped out of it and immediately dropped to the floor to help him look.

Watching them act so crazy, my fingers twitched against the wet tiles... and brushed against something solid.

I turned my head. It was an ornate, vintage pocket watch that had popped open from the fall.

Inside the watch was an old, slightly faded photograph.

It was a little blurry.

But my pupils dilated in shock, because I instantly recognized the person in the picture.

My mother...

Before I could get a closer look, a hand snatched the watch away.

Tristan scooped it off the floor. He cupped it in his hands like it was made of fragile glass, using the sleeve of his expensive designer jacket to frantically wipe the dirty water off it.

Treating it like an absolute treasure.

"It's broken. The hinge is broken," he muttered, sounding completely manic. He immediately turned and power-walked out of the bathroom.

"Tris!" one of the guys called out, confused. "What about the girl?"

"Whatever!"

Tristan didn't even look back, his mind entirely consumed by the watch. "I have to go get this fixed. Don't call me unless someone's dying!"