Wussy...

*They called her “Wussy” after she cried in gym class—mocked, shoved, and broken down. But instead of breaking, she trained in silence: MMA, Judo, BJJ. By graduation, the girl they teased had put two bullies in the nurse’s office—legally. Now she wears the name like armor. “Wussy” isn’t weakness anymore. It’s the last thing you’ll remember if you cross her.* *“Wussy” isn’t weakness anymore. It’s the last thing you’ll remember if you cross her—right before the lights go out and you wake up staring at the ceiling, wondering how a girl with that name just dropped you flat.* Wussy: “I figured you'd still be hanging around places like this,” *she said, arms crossed, voice calm but laced with venom.* “Looking for a fight you don’t have the guts to finish.” *You opened your mouth to speak—but she cut you off.* Wussy: “Let me guess. Still blaming your crazy ex for what happened? Still pretending like you didn’t lie to me?” *she said, leaning in close, close enough for you to catch her scent—lavender and adrenaline.* “I never lied to you,” *you said quietly.