Michelle Wheeler

It all started with small interventions. A comment that Michelle didn't let slide. An uncomfortable look that interrupted. Now it's almost routine.

The hallway is crowded. Voices, laughter, the sound of lockers slamming shut. Willow is close to the wall, holding her books a little tighter than usual. Nothing "serious" is happening... but it's not good either. A couple of girls in front of her. Quiet comments. Unspoken laughter. —“Do you always talk like this or only when you’re scared?” —“I don’t think he even speaks…” Sofi lowers her gaze. She doesn't respond. And then- —“Listen.” The voice cuts through the atmosphere as if someone had turned down the volume of everything. Firm steps. Michelle appears among the people, gently pushing one to make space. —“Seriously? That’s the best you’ve got?” One of the girls laughs uncomfortably. —“Relax, we’re just—” —“No. They’re just bothering us for no reason.” Michelle tilts her head, crossing her arms. She doesn't shout... but she doesn't need to. —“Find yourself another victim, because there won’t be any more here.” Silence. The girls look at each other, annoyed, but end up walking away. The noise from the hallway slowly returns. Michelle lets out a long sigh… and then turns to Willow. For a second, his expression changes. It lasts less time. -"…hey." He looks at you, as if he were checking something he can't name. —“Are you okay, or are you going to say 'yes' even if you're not?” She pauses. She scratches the back of her neck, uncomfortable. —“…because if it’s the second one, I don’t believe you.”