Beneath the Surface
Jamie
shuffled his feet nervously as he walked
through the front doors of Brimington
Grammar. The smell of fresh paint still
clung to the walls and the shiny new lockers
gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights.
Everything here was unfamiliar. It was
Jamie’s first day at this school, and even
though at fourteen years old, he wasn’t a
first-year pupil, he felt a newbie. His
family had moved to Brimington, just a month
ago because his dad had landed a new job in
the city. At first, Jamie had been excited
about the move. He thought a fresh start
could be fun, a chance to reinvent himself.
But now that he was actually here, walking
through the crowded corridors of his new
school, all he could feel was dread gnawing
at his stomach.
Back in
his old school, things were different. He
had friends who knew him, friends who didn’t
care that he liked to spend his free time
drawing or reading novels. Here, though, he
felt like he stuck out. Brimington had a
reputation for being a sports-oriented
school and from what Jamie could tell, the
boys who played football or rugby were the
ones who got all the attention. Being a
bookworm and also small for his age, didn't bode well.
Jamie kept his head down as he
found his locker and shoved his rucksack
inside. He had learned to keep his
sketchbook tucked away. The last thing he
wanted was for someone to see it and start
asking questions, or worse, making fun of
him.
His
parents had told him that making friends
would take time.
But it had been three weeks and Jamie still
ate lunch alone. No one seemed to notice
him. Or maybe they did notice, but not in
the way he wanted. The other pupils didn’t
seem to pay much attention to him and he was
okay with that. It was easier to go
unnoticed than to stand out and risk
becoming a target. But that was about
to change. It was during lunch on a rainy
Wednesday when Jamie first crossed paths
with Butch. Jamie had just picked up his
tray and was searching for a quiet place to
sit. He spotted an empty table in the corner
and made his way toward it. But before he
could reach it, a foot shot out in front of
him and Jamie tripped, his tray of food
crashing to the floor with a loud splatter.
Laughter erupted and Jamie’s face burned
with embarrassment. He scrambled to pick up
his spilled lunch, but before he could,
someone snatched the apple from his tray and
held it up high. “Hey, new boy, are you
trying to make a mess, or are you just
clumsy?” The voice was sharp, taunting.
Jamie looked up and saw a tall boy with an
almost bald head and a cruel smirk. He
recognised him immediately, Butch, one of
the popular sports pupils. Butch was always
surrounded by a group of other pupils and
today was no different. They all sat at the
table behind him, laughing as Butch held
Jamie’s apple out of reach. “I’m… I’m
sorry,” Jamie mumbled, his voice a whisper.
He reached out to take the apple back, but
Butch yanked it away, tossing it to one of
his friends.
“Oh, look,
he’s going to cry!” one of the other boys jeered,
laughing as Jamie’s face turned red. “Leave me
alone,” Jamie muttered, trying to keep his voice
steady. His heart was pounding in his chest and
he felt the familiar tightness in his throat that
signalled tears were dangerously close. But he
couldn’t cry, not in front of them. That would
only make things worse. Butch leaned down, his
face inches from Jamie’s. “Or what, new boy? What
are you going to do about it?” Jamie didn’t know
how to answer. He didn’t know what he could do.
So, he stayed silent, grabbing the remains of his
lunch and walking quickly out of the dining room,
the laughter following him all the way down the
corridor. That was just the beginning.
Over the
next few weeks, the bullying continued. Butch
and his friends seemed to delight in making
Jamie’s life miserable. They shoved him in the
corridors, tripped him in gym class, and mocked
him whenever they had the chance. At first, it
was just Butch, but soon the others in his group
joined, boys like Derek and Kyle, who seemed to
hang on Butch’s every word. Jamie did everything
he could to avoid them. He walked a different
route to class, skipped the dining room by
eating in the library and stayed as far away
from the gym as possible. But no matter how hard
he tried to stay out of their way, they always
found him. One afternoon, Jamie opened his
locker to find his favourite comic book,
what his parents had
given him when they first moved, ripped.
His heart
sank as he pulled out the torn pages, his
fingers trembling. He’d been reading it during
lunch the day before, sitting in his usual
corner of the library. Someone must have noticed
and taken it out of his locker after class. That
night, Jamie couldn’t bring himself to tell his
parents. He didn’t want them to worry. They were
both so busy with work and he didn’t want to add
to their stress. So, when his mum asked how
school was going over dinner, he just shrugged
and said, “It’s fine.” But inside, he didn’t
feel fine. He felt trapped. Each morning, the
knot in his stomach grew tighter as he walked
through the front doors of the school, bracing
himself for whatever Butch and his friends had
planned for him that day.
The anxiety
followed him everywhere and by the time he got
home, he was
exhausted. His once vivid sketches turned into
scribbles, lifeless and forced. Drawing, which
had always been his escape, no longer brought
him joy. He wanted to speak up, to tell someone
what was happening, but a voice in the back of
his head always stopped him. “What if they think
you’re weak?” it whispered. “What if telling
someone makes it worse?” So, Jamie stayed
silent. The library became Jamie’s refuge. It
was the one place where he could escape the
noise of the dining room, the corridors
and most importantly, the prying eyes of
Butch and his crew. The
librarian, was kind but mostly left him alone,
letting him sit at one of the back tables with
his sketchbook and a pile of books.
It was
quiet in the library, the soft sound of pages
turning and the faint click of keyboards the
only noise. For a while, Jamie could almost
forget about the rest of the school. One rainy
afternoon, as he sat hunched over his
sketchbook, trying to lose himself in a drawing
of a superhero,
someone sat down across from him. Startled, he
looked up and saw a girl with short dark hair
and round glasses peering at him over the top of
a book. She was in his form class, though Jamie
had never really talked to her before. “Are you
okay?” she asked, her voice quiet but direct.
Jamie blinked, unsure of what to say. No one had
really asked him that in a long time. “I’m
fine,” he said quickly, ducking his head and
pretending to be engrossed in his drawing.
The girl
didn’t leave, though. She closed her book and
set it down on the table. “I saw what happened
in the dining room yesterday. With Butch.” Jamie
felt his face flush. Of course, she had seen it.
Everyone had seen it. He just wished people
would stop talking about it. “It’s no big deal,”
he muttered. “I can handle it.” “Can you?” she
asked, her voice gentle but probing. “Because it
doesn’t seem like it’s getting any better.”
Jamie’s throat tightened, and he felt the
familiar sting of tears behind his eyes. He
clenched his fists, trying to push the feeling
down. “It’s fine,” he repeated, though it
sounded less convincing now. The girl leaned
back in her chair, studying him for a moment.
“I’m Amy, by the way,” she said, extending her
hand.
Jamie
hesitated, then shook it, grateful for the
distraction. “Jamie.” From that day on, Amy
started sitting with him in the library during
lunch. She didn’t push him to talk about Butch
or the bullying, but she was always there,
quietly reading or sketching in her own
notebook. Her presence was comforting and
slowly, Jamie began to feel a little less alone.
A few weeks later, Amy introduced Jamie to
someone new. They were sitting at their usual
table in the library when a boy with messy brown
hair and a skateboard tucked under his arm
strolled in. He waved to Amy and slid into the
chair next to her, giving Jamie a quick nod.
“This is Henry,” Amy said, gesturing toward the
new arrival. “ We go to the same art class after
school.”
Henry
grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping
his skateboard up against the table. “New boy?”
Jamie gave a small nod in return, unsure of what
to say. Henry didn’t look like the type of guy
who spent much time in libraries. He had that
laid-back, confident air about him that Jamie
had always envied in older boys. But there was
something about Henry that put him at ease. “You
skate?” Henry asked, nodding toward Jamie’s
shoes. Jamie shook his head. “Not really.”
“Cool, cool,” Henry said, not seeming to care.
He glanced at Jamie’s sketchbook, which lay open
on the table and raised an eyebrow. “You draw?”
Jamie hesitated, then nodded. He hadn’t shown
anyone his drawings in a long time, not since
the bullying had started.
But
something about Henry’s easy-going attitude made
him feel like it was okay. Henry leaned forward,
flipping through the pages of Jamie’s
sketchbook. “Whoa, these are awesome!” he said,
pausing on a detailed drawing of a superhero
mid-flight. “You’ve got serious talent.” Jamie
felt a small spark of pride at the compliment.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, not used to hearing praise
for his art. “You ever think about showing these
to someone?” Henry asked, still flipping through
the sketchbook. “Like, for real?” Jamie
shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure
anyone would care.” Henry looked at him, serious
for a moment. “Don’t sell yourself short. People
care more than you think.” Jamie didn’t know how
to respond, so he just nodded.
But deep down, he couldn’t shake the
feeling that maybe Henry was right. Maybe there
were people who cared. Over the next few weeks,
the three of them, became an inseparable trio.
They ate lunch together, spent afternoons in the
library and even started hanging out after
school. Henry taught Jamie a few basic
skateboard tricks, though Jamie was terrible at
it. But for the first time since moving, Jamie
didn’t feel invisible. He had friends, people
who liked him for who he was. But even though
things were better with them by his side, Butch
and his crew didn’t let up. The bullying
continued and Jamie still found himself dreading
school. He knew he couldn’t keep avoiding the
issue forever, but the thought of standing up to
Butch terrified him.
Then, one cold afternoon, everything changed. It was a Friday and the bell had just rung to signal the end of the school day. Jamie was walking home, his rucksack slung over his shoulder, when he heard footsteps behind him. He knew who it was before he even turned around. Butch and his friends were following him down the street, laughing and whispering to each other. Jamie’s heart raced as he quickened his pace, but it didn’t take long for them to catch up. “Hey, loser!” Butch shouted, grabbing Jamie’s rucksack and pulling it off his shoulder. Jamie stumbled, trying to grab it back, but Butch swung it out of reach. “What’s in here, huh?” Butch taunted, unzipping the rucksack and dumping its contents onto the pavement.
Books, papers and Jamie’s precious
sketchbook scattered across the ground.
“What are you going to do about
it, skateboard boy?” Henry didn’t flinch. He
stood tall, his voice steady. “I said, leave him
alone.” For a moment, no one moved. The tension
crackled in the air like electricity. Butch’s
smirk wavered, and for the first time, Jamie saw
uncertainty in his eyes. Finally, Butch snorted
and backed away. “Whatever. Let’s go,” he
muttered to his friends, shoving Derek as they
walked away. Henry knelt down next to Jamie,
helping him gather his things. “You alright?”
Jamie nodded; his throat tight with emotion.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, clutching his sketchbook
to his chest. Henry smiled, clapping Jamie on
the shoulder. “No problem. Just remember, you
don’t have to deal with this alone.”
That night, as Jamie lay in bed,
he thought about what Henry had said. He had
spent so much time trying to handle everything
on his own, but maybe that wasn’t the answer.
Maybe it was time to speak up. The next morning,
Jamie walked into the headmaster’s office. His
heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty,
but he knew he couldn’t keep living in fear. He
couldn’t keep letting Butch and his friends
control his life. Headmaster Hargrove was kind
and understanding as Jamie told him everything,
the bullying, the taunts, the shoving, and how
it had made him feel. He listened carefully; his
expression serious but sympathetic. “I’m so
sorry you’ve been going through this, Jamie,” he
said when he finished.
“We take bullying very seriously here,
and I promise you, we will handle this.” True to
his word, Headmaster Hargrove called Butch into
his office that afternoon. Jamie didn’t know
what was said, but by the time school let out,
the rumour had spread, Butch had been suspended.
For the first time in months, Jamie felt a
weight lift off his shoulders. The fear that had
been gnawing at him, day after day, began to
fade. He had spoken up, and something had
changed. In the weeks that followed, life at
Brimington started to get better. Butch and his
friends no longer bothered Jamie and the knot in
his stomach that had been his constant companion
slowly unravelled. He no longer hid in the
library, though he still spent plenty of time
there with Amy and Henry.
The three of them had become close
friends and Jamie knew that, they had his back.
He started drawing again, not just in secret but
out in the open. He joined the school’s art
club, something he never would have imagined
doing before. His sketchbook, once a source of
shame, became something he was proud of. Jamie
had learned something important during those
long, difficult months: standing up for yourself
doesn’t mean facing everything alone. It means
finding your voice, seeking help when you need
it and surrounding yourself with people who
care. Life wasn’t perfect, there were still
challenges, still hard days. But now, Jamie knew
he wasn’t alone and for the first time in a long
while, he felt hopeful, hopeful for the future
and for the person he was becoming.