I'm going to be late, I thought to myself as I walked down the hall.

I thought of my English teacher, Mr. Wilkins, who didn't approve tardiness. I dreaded the lecture I would receive. It was because of this I decided to quicken my pace a bit more.

My mind began to be filled with things a usual high school student would think of. Homework, classwork, projects, and tests. Of course, as every student does with these thoughts, I ignored them. Instead, I thought of the phone call I received. No, not the call from earlier that morning.

The one from last night.

From my father.

Just when I was about to go to sleep, my phone rang. I rejected the call the moment I saw the caller ID. There was then this split moment of regret, knowing he would be furious that I had the guts to do this. I knew that he would make another attempt to call me again, to which I was right as the phone rang again. I stared at the phone and it rang and rang before finally leaving a voicemail.

I gritted my teeth. I felt like a coward. Maybe I was.

I had to hear it or the notifications will display I had an unopened voicemail. Then it'll be a constant, annoying reminder every time I even look at my phone. Of course there is the option of deleting it without ever listening to it. But it may be something important. It usually is if he actually took the time to call, rather than having his assistant doing it for him. At least once I hear it, it would be out of my mind although I knew that whether I hear it or not it would still be on my mind.

I went to the voicemail and pressed his number. I waited for a moment before I heard his voice. The stern voice I grew up knowing to obey. A cold, low voice people have said I have inherited.

"Bennett, I know you're ignoring my calls. We need to talk. You can't keep doing this. You know you made a mistake, even bringing her into this. You have to-"

I was cut off from my thoughts when someone crashed into me. I stumbled back from the force, while the other person fell onto the floor. The person lost their footing to have fallen, not expecting to crash into anyone, compared to me as I was able to keep my balance and remain standing

I look to see it was a girl. I didn't seem to recognize her, meaning she wasn't in any of my classes. She rubbed her head then fixed her glasses a bit.

She let out a groan. "Thanks so much."

I frowned at that, knowing sarcasm when I heard it. But I was as startled as anyone should be. I hesitated before taking a step towards her, worried if she was hurt.

She looked up to me and I saw in her eyes a flash of recognition, probably realizing who I was. Of course, not to sound conceited... People knew who I was, and being a new transfer student to such a school was no help. I expected her to do what everyone else does, gawking at me when, as Jordan would say, they can just take a picture and ask for me to sign it.

I tried to hold back any hint of dreariness, knowing the reaction I would receive from her, and just focused on concerning her own self. "Sorry, I didn't see you there," I apologized to her, suddenly regretting my wording as it made it sound like I was making an excuse.

I knew she might be mad of what I just said, but what I didn't expect was for her to glare at me. I blinked, not expecting to see a glare to match that of Declan's.

"Sure you didn't," she said in a tone I knew meant she didn't believe me.

I began my defense, "No really-" But was cut off.

"You know, just because people pretend I'm invisible, doesn't mean I'm going to act like it."

Invisible? She didn't look like it as I was looking right at her. And she certainly didn't act like it.

I tried again. "Wait I-"

She didn't seem to be finished as she continued, "And just so you would know, just because you have a higher social status than I do, doesn't mean that you can just walk over me."

I gritted my teeth at that. What is she talking about a higher social status? Does it look like I want to have that? Much less walk over her because of that? But I barely even know the girl.

"I don't even know what you're-"

"Whatever," she said. "I'm already late to class because of you."She picked herself off and dusted off her pants. She then looked around before spotting her binder lying right in front of me. She must have dropped it when we crashed into each other. I watched as she went to pick it up. Before I could even think what I was doing, I reached down to pick it up as well.

I didn't know what I was thinking. I could have easily just backed off and walked away. But I still had the guilt of this incident being half of my fault, with the other half being hers. I wanted to at least get on her good side before we part ways, not wanting a total stranger to think less of me.

"Here, let me-"

She grabbed the binder before I could and glared at me. "I didn't ask for your help," She snapped, making me flinch at that.

At that moment I saw a bit of regret from that, but it went away as quickly as it appeared. She hesitated before walking past me. I watched her go, then caught her looking back before turning the corner.

I felt like running after her, but my feet felt planted on the ground. I didn't know what I was going to say once I caught up to her, I just knew that I wanted to, had to. She seemed different with that reaction of hers, which strangely reminded me of those other two.

I stood there for what seemed like a long time. There I go again, being a coward once more. I didn't expect any of that, but that goes to show you should never expect things.

I, on my part, felt bad for this whole incident. Despite her attitude, I had to see this from a more calmer perspective rather than arguing back like other people I know... may have done. That and hating a total stranger without even knowing them. As much as I know, she may be having a bad day and couldn't help but take the frustration out on the first person that makes her finally crack.

To that, I decided forgive her. Though it may have made me seem high and mighty of thinking I had the audacity to forgive her like that when it may not even be her fault. But hopefully... she may forgive me as well.

Maybe not for this, but to make up for anything I needed forgiving.

I suddenly remembered I was late to class. I began to walk towards my English class once again. It was then I slowed down to a stop as I was trying to remember what I was thinking about before the whole incident.

But I just couldn't remember.

I shooked my head and went back to walking.

I just hope my teacher can forgive me for being late, just this once.

-

I forgot to do my homework.

Now, most people would be freaking out at the moment, and I admit I was like one of those ignorant peasants just a few minutes ago. But that wasn't until I realized I didn't need to be. That I didn't need to be part of the great majority of student kind, not having done their homework. I didn't need to panic and break down for a single worksheet not filled out. And I didn't need to be grouped with the fools who couldn't do one simple thing.

All I had to do was ask someone.

I mean I could just do the homework myself. Given it's next period and I have the worksheet, and I know the topic and everything. But why do it when you can just ask? That's the power of asking. You never know until you ask. Then with a little persuasion and charm -and yes, I have some, thank you very much- you got the whole world in the palm of your hand.

Cue the evil laugh- then the coughing that comes after it. Believe me, it strains the vocal chords.

Alright, maybe I'll just do it- I did a quick Shia LeBeouf flex before anyone could give me a weird stare. I don't want to begin this scene- I mean, this school year as someone who is stupid or lazy or both. And in my defense, your honor, I'm not, although at times it may seem to be. However, I'm not. Is what people who actually are would say.

I decided to do the homework once class started. Despite the bell, it didn't seem like it was close to starting. Everyone was up from their seats, talking with friends, using their phones, whatever they want. A few kids were sneaking into the class, thankful that the teacher, Mr. Ford, hasn't done attendance yet to mark them late. I knew from a look of one girl who looked like she reached the finish line seeing she wouldn't be late.

"Hey Jordan," a girl called out what she thought sounded flirtatious with a wave.

I smiled politely at her and waved back.

She turned back to her friends who shrieked and giggled. I didn't see it much of something to shriek about if I waved at someone. If she wanted to be proud of something she should have came up to talk to me.

I just wanted class to get started so Mr. Ford will show the new seating arrangements. How do I know this, you might ask? Well with my persuasion skills and charm- Okay not really. I may have snuck a peek of a paper on his desk of the new seats. I could have left it there, but seeing that I had an opportunity with me, I needed to play it out.

Mr. Ford is a pretty chill teacher. He knows his stuff, can crack a joke or two, and doesn't want to be in school as much as we do. So I find it pretty easy to strike up the conversation of the seating arrangement about a week ago.

I sang in my head, 'About a week ago' as I cue that flashback attack.

'Hey Ford,' I greeted with my usual smile. Class just ended and everyone had already left. I had a little time left until my next class and I wanted to ask him something about the homework. I nodded to the paper on his desk. "Is that the new seating chart?"

He was cleaning the board as I asked him this. He didn't even turn around before replying, 'Yes, very keen of you to notice, Jordan. However, you shouldn't look at other people's stuff.'

I feigned a gasp and touched my heart. 'And you shouldn't accuse other people of such a terrible act. C'mon it was right there. It was like you were asking me to sneak a peek.'

He turned around to look at me and crossed his arms over his chest. 'What do you want to know about it?'

I shrugged. 'Is it going to be official?'

'Yes.'

All year long?'

'Yes.'

'Are you finished with it yet?'

'No.'

'Do you need my he-'

'As much as I appreciate your concern, your services are not needed.'

'We both know it's not for the whole class,' I said, trying to bite back a smile but failing to do it.

'Yes, I figured.'

'Who's going to be my partner?'

'I don't know yet.'

'I'm hurt! I thought I was one of your favorite students, Ford. I thought I would be the first one you would find a partner for.'

'Then you thought wrong.'

'Now that really did hurt,' I grumbled.

'And why would you think you're one of my favorite students?'

I shrugged. 'I'm a new transfer student graduating his last year. Of course I'll be your favorite because I'll be out of your hair in no time.'

He thought about it. 'Can't say you're wrong there.'

'Now about those seating arrangements...' I began.

'You're a special case Jordan,' he said. 'I need to find a partner who wouldn't talk with you.'

I laughed at that. 'But I talk with everyone!'

'Exactly.'

I picked up the piece of paper, ignoring his look of disapproval. I scanned the names already placed and tried to remember the faces that came along with it.

I gritted my teeth. Faces.

My prosopagnosia is the only thing that got in my way of doing that. It's the long fancy word for face blindness. Yeah if total color blindness wasn't enough, you get this too. Every person I see is like one of those faceless mannequins you see in the mall. They all look the same. Just one blurry face after another. It's the different things I needed to notice to hide this face thing about me, from hair, clothes, even voices. Sometimes there are certain parts that go through the prosopagnosia, like a quirk in their mouth or striking eyes. But that's rare enough to find certain traits like that.

That's why it helps that I'm a talkative guy. I talk to everyone long enough for me to remember who they exactly are or else I won't even know I ever talked to them when I see them again.

I racked my pathetic excuse of a brain, trying to match each name with a specific attribute to that person rather than a face. I may have stared at it for a long time because Mr. Ford got tired of me and plucked the paper out of my hands.

'Don't you have another class to get to?'

'Where's your class?' I asked, seeing no one has entered the room.

'I don't have a sixth period class. This is my conference period,' he explained. 'Now go away. I have stuff to grade,' he said as he grabbed a stack of papers and took a seat on his desk.

'Oh, my teacher won't mind,' I said, before adding, 'as long as you give me an excuse letter.'

'And what makes you think I'll-' He stopped and sighed. 'Fine, as long as you leave faster.' He opened his drawer trying to find a slip for the excuse letter.

I looked over at the stack of papers he was about to grade and saw it was my class period. I read the first name on the paper aloud.

'Naomi Lorraine,' I read aloud.

'Huh?' Mr. Ford asked. 'You said something?'

'Oh, I was just reading that name on the paper.'

Mr. Ford looked at the paper I was referring to. Then without even seeming to read it, he marked the paper full credit. Then he moved on to the next paper.

My eyes widened. 'Did you even read her paper?'

'No, I just don't want to waste my time, like you're doing with mine. Give me a second to write your excuse letter,' he said as he did so.

'How will it be a waste of time? Ford, if I knew you've been giving away free grades like that, I wouldn't even be trying in your class.'

'I'm not,' he said. 'It's just with her, I don't see the point of looking at her work if I know it's already full credit.'

'Why?'

'She's the top of her classes, her grade even. And no one would go past the maximum of one-half of a page by making three pages. I don't want to read all of that when I know she did her work thoroughly.'

Now I really had to try hard to hide a smile bubbling inside of me.

'Does she have a partner?'

'No,' he said slowly, giving me a look like he already caught on.

Hello smile, nice to meet you.

'No she doesn't?'

"I mean no, I won't let you be her partner.'

I groaned. 'What? Why not?'

'You'll talk the poor girl's ear off.'

'So?'

He frowned. 'Well, she is quiet. Meaning she might be able to keep you down...'

'Yeah...' I pressed.

'And I know the other kids will pretty much use her only for their grades...'

'And I won't?'

"Jordan, we both know you're smarter than you look. You just don't act like it and you make sure people don't know it. I doubt you'd use someone like that.'

I wiped away a tear. 'You know me so well.'

'Now if you just weren't so lazy...'

'Can she be my partner or not?'

'I'll think about it,' he said before holding out my excuse letter to me. 'Now get out of my class. I don't think it takes this long to ask questions on a project, especially when I didn't give you guys one. Let's just hope your teacher buys it.'

I grinned. And that she did. My teacher let me off with a warning to use my own free time of asking things about my other class and not use her own class time.

Now I'm back here at my own seat when Ford (finally, I might add) cleared his throat only to fail to get the class's attention. Despite that, he still began to talk.

"Class, we'll be having a seat change. You don't have to sit alphabetical order anymore. But I'll be choosing your partners which you'll be going to have for the rest of the year."

There were cheers and groans, one kid yelled out something like "freedom, baby!" Either way, it was the usual reaction for this kind of thing. I laughed in my head at that one. Get it? Reaction, chemistry class? Whatever. I might use that sometime.

The teacher looked down onto the paper and said as he read, "First," he paused, looking like he was going to regret something before saying, "Lorraine and Wallace, go to table one."

Oh Ford, you never failed me.

I walked to the new table looking at him with a knowing smile, and he replied by rolling his eyes and continuing the seating chart.

I looked at my new partner as we headed towards the same destination and gave her a smile only to have a frown in return. I would have mirrored it myself but I didn't because: one, I don't look as good frowning rather than smiling, and two, I figured she might have not been happy having to partner with little ol' me probably because of my laziness. Hopefully that'll change.

We then took our seats at the table. I turn to her only to see her facing to the front, I think ignoring me. I held out my hand for her to shake to get her attention.

"Hey, the name's Jordan," I introduced myself with a smile.

She glanced at me with a look of confusion as if she never had someone offer her to shake his hand or even talk to her. Then she looked back to the front of the board, making me lower my hand that had its hopes up to shake someone else's hand.

"Naomi," she replied in a low mutter.

Well, that's no fun. If she's going to be like this the whole year, chemistry will be pretty boring. The only thing I want to do is work with our own chemistry. Then a thought popped into my head and I gave her a confusing look.

"You're dirty?" I asked her in disbelief.

She whipped her head towards me, glaring at me. "It's Naomi," she corrected with a little snap in her voice.

I tried to bite back a smile and made things worse as I ended up grinning. I didn't expect this.

"Well, I couldn't hear what you said, so I thought you said dirty," I told her, seeing the look in her eyes. "You don't seem like the type though."

"Why would I say that?" She asked in disbelief.

I couldn't tell her I actually heard her correctly. That would take out the fun. So I gave her a small shrug. "Beats me. You shouldn't mumble."

"Well you should get a hearing aid," she snapped.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, not expecting this one bit. "Wow, feisty."

She looked like she wanted to say something, but Ford must have also because he beat her to it.

"For today's lesson, we'll be mixing different solutions and watching their reactions."

My eyes widened, knowing this is my chance to shine.

I called out, "I know my reaction for this class..."

The whole class turned to me and it was like they were asking for it, even setting me the stage. I couldn't help but make a dramatic yawn.

"Boring!" I exclaimed.

I got the laughter I was hoping for. I was even able to break Ford as he couldn't but chuckle at that. I then turned to Naomi and was disappointed that she didn't chuckle much less crack a smile. Don't tell me she's this kind of person.

"What do you have? Botox?" I asked in disbelief. If no one laughs at my jokes, I honestly think something bad happened to them. To the point, I can even be concerned. "If you can't show an expression, blink twice."

"That was so funny, I forgot to laugh," she told me, not looking amused by me.

Ford has already assigned us classwork, making my reaction to class more true. I noticed Naomi already hard at work, scribbling down notes without even glancing at the board or her textbook, maybe having memorized this stuff. I couldn't help but watch when she suddenly looked up and I was left looking at her.

I felt a little warm in the face being caught watching her. This is the worst first impression I ever made. I tried to shrug it off as nothing, but couldn't help but shift my embarrassment by scratching my head.

"So I take it you're not the sociable type?" I forced out, wanting to change the subject to anything else.

Naomi scoffed and looked back at her notes to write again. "I am, but others just choose not to socialize with me."

Great, I made things worse.

I let out an awkward chuckle. "That's kinda sad."

I saw Naomi grip her pencil tightly before she snapped, "I don't need your pity."

I stopped at that one liner.

'I don't need your pity,' I muttered to her.

She smirked at that before saying

"Didn't think you did," I said quietly to Naomi.

I saw her stop writing at that. I immediately turned away to look at my blank notebook instead of looking at her. I felt my face turning hot, maybe even becoming as red as a tomato. Which is ironic enough given I forgot what red freaking is. Why am I freaking out? Stop that. Bad, Jordan, bad.

Why did I say that? Even better, why did I remember that? I glanced at her to see she looked as confused as I was and was about to say something. So I quickly cut her off by calling out to Mr. Ford.

"Yo teach, when will we get this party started?" I said with a noticeable crack in my voice, hopefully no one caught that.

Mr. Ford sighed at this, no surprise there. "Soon, Mr. Wallace, soon."

"Patience is a virtue," I heard my partner mutter to what she thought was to herself.

I blinked at that. "What does pa-tience mean?" I asked as I cocked my head to the side, amused by why she would say something like that.

That's when I saw it. All my hard work has finally pulled off. I saw the corner of her mouth twitch to a smile. I couldn't hold back my pride and smiled back, making her smile even wider.

I tried not to throw up my hands up in the air to praise the gods of jokes or whatever

"There you go," I said, giving her a wink. "I knew you weren't a robot."

She looked at me in confusion. "Excuse me? A robot?"

"Yeah, you know." I paused then did my best robot impression, robot moves and all. "Why is that human leaking?"

I was a roll now, finally. A chuckle escaped her and she didn't even look like she tried to hold it back.

I laughed at that, and playfully punched her in the arm. "There you go. Being stuck with a serious partner would make it a pretty boring year, you know?"

Naomi paused for a moment then asked me, "And you don't care who I am?"

I looked at her. "What do you mean by that?"

She looked like she wanted to say something but Ford wanted to ruin the fun and passed out the worksheets.

The rest of the class was pretty boring as Naomi wanted to do her work rather than talk to me. Hurts a little, but understandable. Nah, I'm just kidding. But really though, school is important, stay in school kids. As I already knew this stuff from my last school, I found this stuff pretty boring. I amused myself by bothering Ford when asking for his help, but he soon picked up what I was doing and told me I had a partner for a reason. Now knowing this, I would peek at Naomi's paper to get her attention to which she would cover her paper. I was sad she didn't want to talk much anymore, but I was okay with it.

Baby steps, Jordan, baby steps.

After finding out about the seating chart, I did a little spy stuff to know about her. Nothing stalkerish or anything. I just talked to random classmates and brought up her as the subject. Most of the time they didn't want to even talk about her, always calling her some... bad things, besides calling her a nerd. I don't think being called a nerd is a bad thing, I think people should be flattered that people are saying you're smarter than them. Which compared to those people I talked to, she is.

I looked down at my notes, twirling my pencil in my hand.

Why am I doing this?

But I already knew the answer.

She looked at me, her eyes narrowing at me. 'You keep saying that. You keep saying that you want to do something to thank me. You do know how weird that sounds, right?'

I frowned. 'Yeah, I realized that now.'

'You don't need to do anything.'

'But...' I trailed off and looked at her. 'I can't. I mean, I already made a promise. I won't back out of it now.'

She looked at me for what felt like a long time. I felt her eyes as if they were piercing through me with an admiration and passion I could never dare try to capture onto paper.

'Well, you can do one thing for me,' she began. 'And don't give me that look, it's not going to be anything bad.'

'Promise me that if you find someone like you, help them. I don't care who it is or how you'll do it, but if it's you-' she stopped and chuckled to herself '-I know it'll be the best thing that ever happened to them. Now, can you promise me this?

I looked down at the band-aid on my finger. Then I looked up to look at Naomi doing her work, not knowing what's coming to her.

As soon as the bell rang, Naomi quickly packed up her things to leave. I followed suit, but when I finished packing she was already out the door. I quickly grabbed my backpack and practically chased after her. I had to shove my way through the door, as kids wanted to get away from this place as soon as possible, to which I don't blame them.

"Hey Naomi!" I called out to her, waving my hand to get her attention. "Wait up! Let me walk you to class!"

Some people gasped. I know, I would be surprised too if you've never seen someone genuinely want to interact with another person, as they apparently have never witnessed firsthand.

I saw Naomi stop walking and turn to look at me. When our eyes met, I suddenly stopped.

Those eyes. It's those same eyes.

She suddenly broke off and turned away. I watched her run through the crowd, running. Running away from me, from herself, from everyone. I couldn't help but give out a wry smile from seeing history repeating itself.

If you find someone just like you, help them.

-

I think I can't smell anymore.

I mean I can't say that I actually lost my sense of smell like Jordan losing his... dignity.

I mean dignity

Not his...

I was able to catch my thought, but I knew that just because I didn't think of that doesn't mean I don't know what I really meant. My head hurts just from that sentence alone. My thoughts led back to incident back in the car. Jordan started it, although really I was the one who started it, but he provoked me to do it, just when I thought it was finished. I didn't mean to say all of that stuff earlier back at the car, but he shouldn't have said any of that either.

But forget about him. What I should be concerning about is this stench.

Of the guys' locker room.

The combined odor of powerful Axe and sweat was overwhelming. One poor kid passed out the moment he walked into the room. The windows are jammed shut because of this old school and we don't have any air conditioning in here. So it's the great combination of humid, hot, and reeking. My sense of smell might as well completely shut down to end my misery every second I'm here. The situation is so bad, there are complimentary gas masks provided from the school.

But I didn't want to use a gas mask, mostly because it's school property meaning you share them with other people. You might as well give that person mouth-to-mouth CPR with that person as you practically breathe the same air as them.

I sighed inwardly to myself of this random mind I have.

I'm mad that I have to go through P.E. even though I'm a senior. I'm done with my P.E. credits for taking sports in my last school and I just wanted to focus on school now. I talked to my counselor and he said he'll change me next semester. So until then I'm stuck in this class.

I went to my locker to quickly change into my P.E. clothes. I ignored the guys who tried to greet me, because I'm not it the mood to talk to anyone, especially in this locker room. I'm scared that if I open my mouth, I'd taste the Axe.

Obviously I wouldn't go into details of what happens in the locker room. What happens in the locker room stays in the locker room. That, and there should be limits of what can be said in the locker room.

Something these guys didn't seem to know.

"Hey man, guess what I did," some guy announced quite proudly.

I managed to finally open my locker to get changed. I'm never been one to eavesdrop, but these guys talk so loud that I couldn't help but hear it, even if I tried. The other guys of the same row listened in, as they were loud enough for the whole row to hear.

"Alright," his friend replied, "What?"

"C'mon guess."

It's going to be one of these conversations?

"Fine. It's about Nerds, isn't it?"

I frowned to myself as I took off my shirt to slip on a different one. Nerds? Is that a person? What kind of nickname is that?

"Yeah, obviously it's her."

Oh, so they're talking about a girl. Great. Nothing better than talking about a girl than in a locker room.

"So what happened?"

"Alright so it was like over the weekend. I snuck out of my house when it was late at night and-"

I did my best to really try shutting them out this time. We all know how this story usually goes. Guy sneaks out of his house. Girl sneaks guy into her house. You know the rest.

That is until either the guy announces it to the school or a few months later and the stomach tells all.

The thought made me think of my new baby brother or sister. Though my parents should be the ones with these feelings, I myself felt both scared and excited. But mostly excited.

I didn't care if it was going to be a boy or girl, because I knew either would be great. If I get a brother, we'd play sports and break some windows, and rock out with our music until the neighbors complain. If I get a sister, we can have tea parties, I can have a reason to learn how to braid her hair, and we can sing karaoke duets. She'll have the most beautiful voice anyone would ever hear, except for guys. They won't be able to stand 20 feet from her, even if they want to just hear her sing.

I knew if my sister was getting talked about like the way these two guys are, I'd make it so they'd never talk again.

"Jack and Mitch, you know them right? Yeah, they were there."

Two other guys were there?

"And you didn't invite me?" He asked in disbelief.

Why would he want to be there?

"Sorry man, but the less the better. Didn't want anyone to catch us."

"Okay fine, whatever."

"Anyway, in the end of it all, it was so worth it. Nerds was crying, we were dying- in laughter."

I'm starting to think this is not the story I thought usually goes. My mind was racing with what they had done, but even my imagination has limits of the things people are actually capable of. I would know.

"But if you don't want to take my word for it, Mitch posted the video up on the website. You want me to send you a link?"

A video? They took a video of whatever they were doing?

"Only if you invite me next time."

"You're still on about that? Hey man don't worry about it, I got you. We've actually been planning another-"

He was cut off when I suddenly slammed my locker door louder than necessary. A few guys in the row jumped at the sound, pausing from they were doing or talking about. I felt their stares on me and when I turned in their direction, no one dared to meet my eyes. They quickly went back to what they were doing.

I went towards the exit which is the same direction of the two guys who were having that conversation. Just when I was about to pass them, I suddenly stopped.

I didn't know why I was going to do this. It wasn't any of my business. I didn't even know any of them, these two or the person they were talking about.

One of them noticed and had the courage to smile at me. Not one of Jordan's easy smiles, but a bit of a forced one. "Hey Declan, how's it-"

"Never talk about something like that in this locker room again," I said to him in a low voice.

At first he was confused at what was I was talking about. But the realization in his eyes told me that brain of his figured it out.

I heard muttering and whispering from guys around us, probably hearing our conversation. The reason I don't like talk in a locker room is because you can hear talk even when you're at the other side of the room. The news of my warning that I never wanted to hear a conversation with their topic- and as I told you, they were loud enough for the whole row to hear-spread like wildfire. If they know what's good for them, they'd listen.

I was about to walk away when I paused for a moment. I turned to look at him, seeing his friend was right beside him, as scared as he was. They were both in the line of fire.

"And don't ever talk to me, even better, don't ever talk at all."

He gulped and began, "I-I'm sor-"

His friend suddenly clamped his hand over the guy's mouth. "Shut up!" He hissed at him in a stage whisper.

He shouldn't be apologizing to me. But I think it would be too late to say sorry to her anyway.

I hate the guys' locker room and from the smell of it, it hated me as well.

I walked out of the locker room and headed to the field where the class was scheduled to be in. The classes usually rotates between the volleyball courts, basketball courts, gym, and field. They change by the week or depending on the activity the teacher has in store for us.

People were in their own groups, talking amongst themselves. I noticed there was a certain clearing around me whenever I walked, and at this time, as I just stood there in the field. The incident in the locker room must have spread as people were distancing themselves from me. Even the girls who usually try to talk to me but ended up changing their minds of shyness or intimidation were even farther away from me than the guys. Not that I don't mind or anything.

I wonder if the sun's heat is a good reason of why my face felt slightly hot.

There was a sudden shrill of a whistle making everyone race to their roll call order. They pushed each other out of the way and made it seem they were running to home base by the way some were sliding to their seats. You'd think it was because they were eager for this class, but I figured they were really scared of this class not to. I, however, strolled to my own order and stood there with my arms crossed rather than sitting down on the field, mostly because the ground was really hot and I would have been able to feel it through my basketball shorts.

The one who blew the whistle was the teacher, Ms. Ramos. She walked onto the field with her clipboard to mark attendance. She had the looks of Ms. Beast and the attitude of Sue Sylvester from the TV show Glee- And don't even bother asking me how I know this. Overall she was a pretty strict teacher as people, even my counselor, warned me about. I had to change from the first P.E. teacher after a... misunderstanding. So I ended up being stuck with this teacher. Most of what people have told me sounded like war stories from how they made it sound like they survived the apocalypse which seemed like a pretty good description of the class.

She took attendance, calling each name one by one. Then she stopped at my name as she looked up from her clipboard and saw I was the only person who wasn't sitting down.

She stared at me. I stared back. Then she went to mark me here.

Maybe some of Bennett's poker face rubbed off on me. I knew Ramos wouldn't yell at me because even she had to acknowledge someone who could meet her in the eye.

At the back of my head, I thought of this joke Jordan made that I could stare at Death in the face and Death would look away. Though I feel flattered he would change a Chuck Norris joke on my behalf. Not that I don't care of course.

The teacher let out another shrill of a whistle to get our attention once she finished attendance.

"Listen up," she announced, her loud voice betraying her short stature. "Today we'll be doing some soccer practices."

Already people were partnering up until another whistle made them freeze.

She smirked at them. I didn't include myself as them. "Don't think you'll be getting to choose your partner. Your names will."

People groaned and began to look in front or behind each other to see who are their lucky partners. Starting from the first letter name, I began to count by two's- and yes, I can count -to see who will be my partner until I turned to see someone inches away from my face. I instantly jerked away from him and took a few steps back.

I glared at him. "What's your problem?"

He chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry. It's just, with you as my partner, I won't have to fail at another one of her activities." He said her as if it was some curse word, like if he said it loud enough he'd summon some- Oh wait, right.

"The name's Keith," he said with a smile, holding his hand out for me to shake.

My hands stayed in the pockets of my basketball shorts. Keith saw this and his hand fell to his side.

Now that I think about it, I have him in a few of my classes, well really, heard him. This guy's all talk and all eat. Despite the fact that the school's lunch is inedible- as Jordan claims -I saw the guy eating his friends' food for them.

I might as well introduce myself. "I'm-"

"Declan, I know," he said with a grin.

So this guy is is going to be my partner...

"Yeah, okay..." I said slowly. "Just know there's this thing called, uh, bubble space."

"Oh right! Okay then." He took a few steps back. "Is this enough?"

"A little farther," I told him.

He walked backwards a few more steps then looked back at me.

"Like that?"

"A bit more."

Once again, he walked a bit more away from me. I crossed my arms, getting a bit amused by this.

"How about now?"

"No, not yet."

He walked further.

"I don't think I need to be this-"

"Just keep going."

With that he kept walking backwards. I tried to hide a smile to myself in being able to get rid of him. I was considering ditching the class when I suddenly heard a yelp.

"Just what do you think you're doing Lowry?" I heard Ms. Ramos demand.

I turned to see my partner on the floor next to the teacher. Something told me he was stupid enough to walk right towards her.

"Hi Ms. Ramos," he said weakly.

"Get back in line," she growled.

The poor guy scrambled to his feet and ran back to me. He almost rammed into me but I was able take a step to the side for him to miss. He grinned up at me, panting just from running that distance.

Keith began to talk my ear off, like I wanted to lose another one of my sense. He kept boasting that with me, we'd totally win. Although I'd feel flattered, I don't want to think so highly of myself. There were other people just as good in sports.

I then realized that from how he was talking, he was going to depend on me to do all the work. I already have a bad day and now I'm faced with this to end it off.

Is it too late to ditch this class?

I wasn't able to answer my question because Ms. Ramos started to I've out directions. "Two teams will verse each other. The team behind you will be your opponent."

From all of the 26 letters of the alphabet, she chose the letter L. Keith and I began to walk over to the field. I was considering making a run for it, but decided against it.

I looked at the other team we had to verse with. It was one guy and one girl, both wore glasses. I saw the both of them glaring at each other, looking like they didn't want to be here as much as we did.

Keith snorted to himself as we walked. "Oh, we're totally going to win."

"And why do you say that?" I asked him, trying to hide the annoyance in my voice.

"Well because we're versing Nerds," he said, grinning to himself like he won a lifetime supply of food. And only because he's pissing me off with every word that comes out of his mouth, I can say- He looks like it too.

"Just because they might look like nerds with their glasses doesn't mean-"

He laughed- laughed at me. I balled my fists, wanting him to choke on his laughter.

"No, I didn't mean both of them as nerds. I meant one of them."

I furrowed my eyebrows at that. "The guy?"

"No, the girl. Her name's Naomi, but we call her Nerds."

I looked back at the girl standing in front of us across the field. So this is the girl those guys were talking about back in the locker room. I noticed she didn't look like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die like what her partner looked like he was going to do from the look on his face. Instead, I saw she stood with a little backbone in her which seemed to go against how those guys talked about her. She looked like she wanted to ditch this class as much as I did, and I wouldn't mind ditching it with- I stopped at that thought.

The sun is really hot, isn't it?

Suddenly, Naomi looked up to meet my eyes, and I was surprised to see her glare like I was looking in the mirror. For a split moment I understood why people were always so scared when I glared at them. I quickly turned back to Keith, still feeling the heat of her stare and the sun, can't forget the sun.

"Like the candy?" I asked him, wanting to change the subject but I stupidly just stayed in the same subject instead.

"As if she'd taste as good as that-" He stopped himself. Instead, he made a face to make his point across.

I regret bothering to interact with him. He's getting on my nerves better than Jordan, and that's saying something.

"It's D-Declan Lynch," I heard the guy from the opposing team say to Naomi.

Really? I didn't know that.

She didn't seem to care about this. "Yeah, he does have the same letter last name as us, y'know."

I thought that would be the end of the conversation when I suddenly heard him say, "I-I think I just wet myself."

She backed away from him, looking at him in bewilderment. "Are you serious?"

I saw that there was a growing stain on his basketball shorts. He chose a bad day to wear red as it showed it as clear as day.

Huh, that's new.

Well, I know what part of the field I need to avoid. Forever.

"Lee, ten points off!" Ms. Ramos exclaimed as loud as her whistle. "Now go to the nurse! You're a disgrace to men!

I let out a low whistle to that.

I watched the kid, holding his crotch and what was left of his dignity, run off into the sunset. Or the main building for the nurse's office.

Keith started to laugh and then exclaimed, "That was probably the most hilarious thing I ever seen!"

The most hilarious thing he's ever seen? Then he hasn't met Jordan. I laugh every time I see his face.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Keith holding his hand up for a high five. I didn't see his whole incident as something to be laughing, much less, high five about. With my hands still in my pockets, I ignored him.

Keith's hand fell to his side once more. Suddenly I heard a crumple of what sounded like plastic. I turned to see Keith eat a chip right in front of me. I saw a bag of chips peek out of his pocket. Is he serious? Was he actually eating in a time like this? In a class like this? If Ms. Ramos is going to catch him, he might as well-

"Lowry!" Someone exclaimed, making Keith jump at the sound of his last name.

Start running.

He straightened himself. "Yesh-" He stopped to cover his mouth and swallowed. "I mean yes?"

Ms. Ramos pushed for a moment, probably counting to ten from the way she was moving her mouth. I knew because I felt like doing the same thing when dealing with this guy. "What was that you just swallowed?" She asked slowly.

Keith chuckled nervously, but I would have mistaken it as a whimper. "My saliva?" He asked pathetically.

I'd make him choke on it after she was finished with him...

"Turn your pockets inside out, Lowry!"

Keith let out a squeak and quickly turned his pockets inside out to let a bag of chips fall onto the ground.

"Give me twenty laps around the school," she screamed at him, before adding, "and five more just for littering on my damn field!"

Keith blinked, probably calculating the probability of him dying from doing that many laps. "What?"

"Do no make me repeat myself, Lowry," she warned him.

I watched him actually swallow his saliva this time. "Y-yes sir, er, m'am."

It was all talk. He was all talk. First he was expecting me to do all the work, and now he was stupid enough to pull this stunt. What I hate are slackers. People who expect others to carry their weight.Others who worked hard to where they are and are still struggling while guys like him can talk on and on. I felt my past creeping behind me to push me over the edge.

"You little piece of-" I caught myself before I cursed, not wanting to go all out with people listening like that girl there.

Keith took a step back, holding his hands up to defend himself. "Whoa, whoa bro." Bro? He was actually calling me that? I'd only let one person call me that and, nevermind. "I only got a little hungry."

"I saw you at lunch getting yourself seconds," I told him. "And you're still hungry?"

"I-I wasn't getting seconds. I was getting it for a friend!"

If I hated something besides slackers were liars. If you were going to do something, you might as well as man up and admit you did it.

"Are you calling me a liar?" I asked in disbelief on how he thought he could lie in front of my face. '"'Cause I was sure I saw you eating that lunch for your so called friend."

He looked like a deer in headlights. "W-what, I-I mean um-"

"You're causing me a grade, Lowry."

He opened his mouth to say something but instead just lowered his head. "I-I'm sorry."

My hands hurt from clenching my fists holding back my anger so I cracked my knuckles. I saw he took it as a different sign.

"Parking lot. After school," I told him.

Keith looked at me then nodded before he turned to start running. But he suddenly came back to awkwardly pick up the bag of chips he dropped, run to the nearest trashcan by the field, then ran away. I watched him as he ran, seeing that running away in fear might help him get better grades in this class.

I had a rough day and I honestly pitied the guy as I took it out on him. But it's not like anything will happen.

"Lorraine! Lynch!" I turned to Ms. Ramos at the sound of my name. "Due to your stupid partners, you two will have to team up."

I looked at the girl and both of our eyes met. She crossed her arms, not looking like she was going to move from the place where she stood. I hesitated for a moment before walking towards her. Her eyes never faltered, never broke away. I bet she could tell the color of my eyes compared to others who wouldn't dare even look at them if I demanded what color they were.

When I stood right in front of her, she turned her attention to the bleachers. I didn't wave my hand in front of her face to catch her attention only because I didn't want another glare from her. She didn't look like she wanted to interact with anyone, and as much as I didn't want to do this, we had to interact if we were going to be partners in this.

I cleared my throat. "Can you kick?"

She looked at me. "Excuse me?"

"Can you kick a ball?" I repeated.

There was that glare again. "Can I kick your balls?"

I took a cautious step back, not liking the sound of that. "Okay, let me rephrase that. Are you good at soccer?"

She snorted but didn't say anything.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You didn't answer me."

"Don't need to."

"What do you mean by that?"

She looked at him. "Look, just because I'm a nerd doesn't mean I'm not athletic. There's no such thing as a girl's soccer or basketball team in this school. I'm probably the most athletic girl this school's got. So, you'd better shut up and let me handle this."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you just recently changed into this class."

Like I said, it was a misunderstanding.

"So I have no idea what your skills or your experience in this. The rumors could just be a lie, after all they are just rumors."

I looked at her when she said that last word. "Who said they were rumors?"

"Sanchez! Simpson!" Ms. Ramos called out. "Get to field or else drop and give me twenty."

Two guys, David and Marco, came down from the bleachers and to the field. Both of them were in the same row in the locker room as me and must've heard of my threat there. It must be a great coincidence how the both of us are partners now.

I heard one of them, Marco I think, say, "At least Nerdy Naomi is his partner."

How creative, I thought of their nickname for her. I bet they don't even know there's a literary term on the name.

The other guy, David, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, the guy's got a huge disadvantage."

I glanced at Naomi and I saw her jaw twitch.

I held back a scoff. "Nerdy Naomi?" I mused to myself. "A disadvantage they say? We'll see about that."

Well, I see apparently they were the ones at a disadvantage.

The score was a two to none, the opposing team being the none. Naomi had just scored a goal, after me though, can't forget me. They were quiet, the bleachers quiet, but we had the held back cheering and singing "We Are the Champions". I heard people accuse Marco and David of going easy on us. If they were going to go easy on me, I'd make them regret doing that. Then people started talking about formulas, like it takes math to know how to kick ass. I held back the feeling of doing something to make them shut up. I didn't want to do anything in front of Naomi I was going to regret. Excuses, I told myself. They were all just pathetic excuses.

"You little cheat!" Someone yelled.

I turned to see Naomi on the ground looking up at David who stood over her. It took me a moment to realize he pushed her to the ground. I heard cheering from behind me, and when I turned to the bleachers, I saw kids standing, whooping and laughing with more spirit than a school home game.

What is happening?

I heard a scream and I looked back at Naomi clutching her stomach. Then before she could recover, David kicked her again. What I couldn't believe is why she was taking it. Why she wasn't fighting back.

I looked at Ms. Ramos who wasn't doing anything. She blew her whistle, but for once, no one listened or cared. She didn't do anything, wouldn't do anything. My head was still processing what was happening, why this was happening. Is is because of this stupid game? An ego? It's enough to hurt someone like this?

Naomi cried out when David kicked her again and again. She held her hands up to defend herself, but it was a useless attempt. When he tried to kick her again, she was able to grab hold of his foot. David kicked her hand away then flipped her onto her back. Naomi cried out in pain as he stomped a footprint onto her stomach like squashing a bug, treating her like one.

As I watched David hold back his leg to kick her once more, I felt myself move. I seem to hate a lot of things. I hate the locker room, I hate slackers, I hate liars-

And I hate bystanders.

Before I knew it, I was on top of David, punching him. He fought back against me, but I rather he didn't from what he had done to her. I rather he didn't do anything just as Naomi wasn't able to do anything. I didn't even know why I was doing this. But maybe that's the best reason. You don't have to have a specific reason except knowing it was wrong. And I couldn't control my emotions, even if I tried.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I exclaimed. "Kicking a girl! Don't you have any shame?"

"Stop," someone said. "Will make it worst. Stop."

I felt deaf to anything around me. I thought it was someone's pathetic attempt to stop me. But the yelling and booing from the others seemed to drown out this voice. Maybe it was my own voice of reason. But I didn't want to listen to reason. I lost it the moment I gave the first punch.

I felt arms around me, trying to pull me off. In reaction I shoved them away. My punches began to become sluggish as the my anger slowly resided and reason found its way back to me. What was I doing again? Why was I doing this? I was left staring at David, deciding that his state was at equal proportion of what he did to Naomi, only he looked worse.

I got off David and Marco shoved past me to go to his friend. I felt the throbbing of my hands. My arms limped by my side, going back to rest when it was no longer needed. I thought I promised myself I wouldn't go into anymore fights like this. What is wrong with me? Why did I do this again? What did I gain from doing this? What did I lose? Flashes of memories appeared. Same fights. Same bruises. Same words.

"I dare you say something bad to him. He won't let you say it again."

"Get away from him. Don't even look at him."

"Don't get him angry or you're going to regret it."

"Declan you monster!"

"Declan you freak," Marco yelled at him, making me snap back to reality.

"Siding with that nerd," Marco said in disgust, holding David up. "I thought you were cooler than that."

Cool? So not doing anything, or even hurting someone like this is considered cool?

"What did you say, punk?" I snapped at him.

Marco looked down at David and knew better than to say anything else. Then he and two other guys came to drag David towards the main building. We must have taken up the whole period because the bell rang. Everyone left the bleachers, still snickering as they looked back at the field. Ms. Ramos left the field without another word or whistle.

I looked back at Naomi still on the ground. For a moment I thought she was unconscious, making me wish I did more to the guy. But I saw her shift her body telling me she was alright, more or less. I walked up to her and held out my hand. Rather than taking it, she just stared at my hand then at me. She looked at me as if she never saw something like this before. My stomach twisted when I realized that what she never saw before was someone offer to help her.

"Hey, you okay? Here, let me help you up. I don't think the ground looks very comfortable."

She didn't respond. Instead, she curled herself into a ball and refused to look at me. For once, I wanted her to look at me. Or to at least say something.

And she did.

"Leave me alone."

"What?" I asked.

"I said leave me alone," she muttered. "Go away, I don't need your help."

"This guy was kicking you in the stomach even though you're a girl, and I just beat him up for you," I told her. "The least I can get is a thanks."

"Thanks," she said after a beat, before adding, "for wasting your time and energy on me."

Time and energy for beating up someone like him? Didn't waste a percent of it.

"Is it because of your pride I can't get a decent thanks?" I asked in disbelief.

She laughed at that, she laughed. "Pride? What pride? I lost that years ago. It's not like you beating them up will make it any better."

And she was right. It never did. But I would still do it anyway, because I felt like they deserved it. It all looked like petty reasons now. Meaningless taunts and words that always got to me. There was never and gain from defending myself. In the end, the problem was sent away. Me.

She put her hand over face, rather hide in shame and see nothing of it. "He'll just get me back the next day, and the day after that," she said quietly. "You just made things worse."

My stomach dropped.

No I didn't. I helped. I know I did. I didn't make things worse. That can't be. I couldn't have. All of these thoughts filled my head. But who am I kidding? I was in denial. I should have known better. I have the ability to destroy everything I touch.

"Just do me a favor and just go," she practically whispered to me. She said it so quietly that it felt like a prayer, begging me to listen.

I stood there for what felt like a long time.

I had no reason to stay.

I had every reason to go.

And so I did.

"Fine," I said gruffly, not knowing what else to say. "Whatever."

I took one step back away from her, then another. I paused for a moment to get one final look at her then turned to walk away. It was then I heard her choke back a sob making me stop in my tracks. I felt an urge to hit something, anyone, or maybe just myself. Fighting back the urge, I only walked faster.

Just as they had no right to hurt her, I had no right to help her. The irony in it was that I only made things worse by doing so. But what should I have done then? Sit back and enjoy the show? Nothing but watching something live, everything is better live- Although it seems that we weren't alive, that we had no life. Maybe I shouldn't have helped. That's what others did for me. Nothing. I mean, why would they?

We were nothing but a show.