The morning bell rang, its shrill tone cutting through the low murmur of the crowded hallway.
Jay lingered at the entrance of his high school, hesitating before stepping into the chaos of the classroom.
The air was thick with the chatter of students, all talking over each other, but somehow, to him, it felt like a wall. Everyone was moving, laughing, and living, while he was stuck in the margins.
His sneakers shuffled against the worn tiles of the hallway as he walked to class.
Jay tried to keep his head down, eyes focused on the floor. If he didn't make eye contact, maybe no one would notice him. But it was always the same.
There was always someone ready to remind him of just how invisible—or, worse, how irrelevant—he was.
The classroom doors creaked open as Jay stepped inside, and immediately, the usual whispers began. He could feel the heat of their eyes on his back. Some people were good at hiding their judgment, but not all of them.
"Here comes the loser," someone muttered from the back row. Jay barely turned his head, but the words hit him anyway.
"Adam, of course."
Adam with his too-perfect smile and the ability to make everyone laugh at someone else's expense.
He wasn't sure when it started, the bullying. Maybe it was the way he never seemed to fit in—too quiet, too distant.
Or maybe it was just because he was an easy target, always by himself, always alone. The whispers began in middle school, then turned to open taunts by the time he reached high school.
Jay sat down at his usual desk, the one by the window, where he could watch the world go by without having to participate in it.
The air conditioner hummed in the background, drowning out most of the noise, but it couldn't mask the sharp voices that sliced through his thoughts.
Adam and his friends passed by his desk, shoving a paper ball in his direction. "Catch, loser," one of them said, though it wasn't a game.
It wasn't about the paper ball at all. It was about making sure Jay knew his place.
He didn't catch it. The ball fell to the floor with a soft thud.
"Hey, Jay, you need help with that math problem? Or is that too hard for you?"
Adam, with his oversized varsity jacket and the kind of smug smirk that made Jay's skin crawl—leaned over, his voice dripping with mockery.
"I-I'm fine." Jay's voice came out too weak, too unsure, even to his own ears.
"Yeah, you're fine." Adam's friends snickered in the background.
"Bet you can't even solve it. What, are you gonna cry about it like last time?"
The words hit harder than they should have.
Jay bit down on his lip, the pressure building behind his eyes. He didn't answer. He couldn't. Every time he spoke up, they just laughed harder, poked fun at him more.
The teacher entered before Adam could continue, and the classroom settled, but the damage was done.
Adam and his crew kept throwing him sidelong glances, their laughter barely contained. It didn't matter that the teacher gave a lecture on quadratic equations.
The only equation Jay could think of was the one that had followed him from day one: "No matter how hard I try, it's never enough."
The teacher, Mrs. Daniels, looked up from her desk, but only briefly.
She didn't even comment on it. She was used to it by now—used to the way Adam always had a way of bullying Jay, and how Jay always just took it.
She couldn't really be bothered with one more student who was too scared to stand up for himself.
"Jay, do you have the answer to this question?" Mrs. Daniels asked, her tone indifferent.
"Uh… yeah," Jay stammered, scrambling to look at the board. He could feel the eyes of the entire class on him now, their gaze heavy and expectant, as if they knew he wouldn't know the answer.
As if he were destined to fail.
"Come on, Jay," Adam called out from the back. "I'm sure even you can get this one right. Or are you just too dumb?"
A ripple of laughter spread across the room, and Jay felt his cheeks burn with shame.
His fingers fumbled with the pen in his hand, the motion automatic. He scribbled down something that looked like an answer but knew it was far from right.
"Uh... it's, uh... 12," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The class went silent. Mrs. Daniels stared at him, "12?" her gaze unreadable.
Then, she turned back to the board, and the moment passed. "Incorrect."
The class was filled with laughter with that statement.
"Maybe you should study more before answering in class." Mrs.Daniels replied with a emotionless face.
Jay's stomach churned. The quiet insult hung in the air like smoke. But Adam wasn't done yet.
"Yeah, looks like Jay doesn't have it in him," Adam called out again, his tone laced with that sickly sweet sarcasm that made everyone else laugh. "Maybe he should drop out. Couldn't hurt. He's not gonna pass anyway."
That was it. The bell for the next class rang, but Jay felt like he was suffocating.
Every step to the next classroom felt heavier than the last.
The hallway stretched out before him, a long tunnel that led nowhere, and every glance, every giggle, was a sharp jab to his chest. He didn't belong. He never had.