Chapter Four - Pebble and the Pop

CHAPTER FOUR

Pebble and the Pop

PEBBLE DIDN’T WHISPER.
Pebble didn’t giggle.
Pebble didn’t flinch.

She just watched.

She had quiet shoes and quieter eyes.
She sat by the window in Room 12,
in the corner where the sun liked to nap.

Bluster had tried every trick on her.
Loud ones.
Weird ones.
Ones he thought were funny.

“PEBBLE LOOKS LIKE SHE’S MADE OF DIRT!”
he once shouted during spelling.
Some kids snorted.
Some cringed.

Pebble?
She blinked.
That’s it.

Bluster frowned.
He waited for the laugh.
Waited for her to do something.

But Pebble just opened her notebook,
drew a circle,
and kept drawing more.

Today, Bluster tried again.
He “accidentally” kicked her chair.
Twice.

She looked at him.
Not angry.
Not scared.
Just… still.

That’s what got him.

“HELLOOOO? EARTH TO ROCK GIRL!”

Still nothing.

And then,
Pop.

It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t angry.
It was something inside Bluster.

A little pop in his chest.
Like the first crack in an overfilled balloon.

Pebble just looked at him.
Like she knew.

Bluster’s smile wobbled.
His next joke stayed stuck in his throat.

And Pebble?
She turned back to her paper.
And added one more circle.

Big.
Round.
Almost like a balloon.

But maybe not.

Maybe it was just a thought she didn’t say.
Because Pebble didn’t whisper.
Pebble just watched.