It wasn’t as bad as آپ thought it would be. Pulling up your rag tag body while your fingers looped into the steel holes. Huffing and puffing, your hand swiping the corners of your torn lip as آپ look bat the tormentors, آپ couldn’t help but to wonder: Why the fuck were they still here? With all that leather of a Letterman and the grace of a tool, standing and grinning at your dismay, clearly they could have been doing something else with their afternoon. Yet, they choose to do the same routine over and over again: slam the nerd while his protector was MIA because of soccer practice.

Your knees were starting to buckle underneath the dead weight at the same time your eyes began to blur and mix every thing together like a psychedelic high. Gulping down a fist full of the salty red liquid filling your mouth, آپ started to wonder once more: who was that guy? Fuzzy at first but آپ started to squint your eyes to get a better look. In the far back who was couldn’t act any مزید obvious. He stood awkwardly with his hands digging in his pockets glancing through the bleachers trying to distract his mind (most of all eyes) from the situation at hand. No doubt he was new and already he sported the school colors but lack the jockey ass’itude. However, it was replace سے طرف کی the bystander approach.

Before getting مزید details on the guy, آپ had your hair violated with intruding fingers. Your head was jerked upwards سے طرف کی the brunette roots causing آپ to yelp. It was he, Ivan. He looked at آپ with aroused interest, nothing new about that.

“You’re lucky, sweety.” Ivan breathed into your base of your ear. “Next time, I will…”

“Aye, Ivan, let’s ditch this punk ass. The track team is coming.” A faceless voice barked.

“Y’all head out first,” He commanded.

“All right.”

Like a pack of wolves, they began to dismiss their selves including the mysterious lad as well. آپ brought your attention back to Ivan’s mischievous grin. It ranged from earlobe to earlobe like a Cheshire cat he grinned. آپ نگلنا another heap of blood and closed your watering eyes. آپ just want this end. This thunderous clap of agony rippling throughout your body like forest on آگ کے, آگ then again why should it end? It’ll only happen the اگلے encounter with the Cheshire cat and his بھیڑیا pack. This broken record continue to scratch that ear splitting tune over and over again, yet whenever آپ try to remove the needle to ease the drums of your ear Ivan will pounce in and slap your wrist.

“Until اگلے time, sweet cheeks.” He leaned forward, crossing the comfortable distance. Quickly آپ whimper at the touch of his lips against yours. “Next time.” Ivan promised, his coarse thumb sweeping under her eye as her peek them open.

As if the time clocked midnight, the ball became empty for the prince. Cinderella whisked away without a single word of your اگلے encounter. The only difference was this was no fairytale; it was an epic poem with no sights of the end. This clichéd plot driven سے طرف کی generics. When will this zero become a hero and revenge all the fallen nerds that help آپ raise to your glory?

آپ release a handful of steel from your grip to dry your tears. Biting down your lip آپ try not to release any of your cries for the birds to hear. Releasing another grip, آپ began to limp away from behind the bleachers. For what it seems to be a normal after school.

Thank Batman.

For your undeniable ninja like moves, easily آپ slip through the guy’s locker room (a shortcut) without being detected سے طرف کی the-only-athletes-who-uses-a-field-and-actually-have-a-mind-of-their-own soccer players. Feeling somewhat revealed to avoid an encounter with your best pal’s overly protective tendencies; آپ regroup your scattered brain within your fortress of solitude. Ah, آپ mean your locker.

The sweet, sweet comfort of your picture filled locker but آپ couldn’t admire the art for long, آپ needed to clean out the cuts on your face and bust out your back up glasses. Glancing to the side of the locker, your reflection was the only greeting you’ll accept that shady afternoon. آپ wince with each push of your pulsing cheek at the same time آپ were trying to figure out which excuse fit best for today: آپ ran into my locker? Shaped fist. آپ slip and fell? Into a fist. آپ accidentally set off an explosion in chem. lab? That created a multiple of fist to pummel آپ to the ground. آپ growl at your piss poor excuses, what kind of straight-A slacker were you? Key word: Slacker. Dismissing your horrific imagination and down right shameful excuse as a teenager, آپ slammed the locker shut without grabbing a couple of comics on the way out.

Hallways were as empty as your English teacher’s heart, whom you’re tell mad at for calling Superman a figment of imagination for children. آپ cussed Mrs. Schmidt out to the point of tears and آپ strutted out of class as a quote on quote, ”BAMF” but that was in fantasy. In reality آپ sunk into your chair, hiding your burning while malicious snickers ruffle the air. آپ proceeded down the hallway with your squeaky shoes without noticing the gray skies. Then again آپ were use to the sights of gloomy skies, آپ did live Brooklyn for quite some time before the whole… Whatever, that wasn’t important right now. Kansas had those days where it can slay all the vampires with just one sweep of the sunny blade. It was strange at first, living in a well-light environment neglecting the fact آپ almost never leave your room when it doesn’t involve school. It was strange because آپ weren’t use to being able to see everything.

Only seeing part of a picture is what آپ use to. Seeing what’s not there is easy for you. Your parent’s kept آپ in the dark about their crumbling marriage, oh were آپ supposed to mention that? Oh, well, now it is an important unlike the paragraph beforehand. Anyways, back to the point, your parents kept secrets from you. It wasn’t until آپ piece together, مزید like آپ hunted down the divorce papers ironically hidden underneath their wedding video in your mothers weakly guard chest of valuables. After being enlighten at the predicament at hand, آپ were تقسیم, الگ کریں up like a pet: آپ live with آپ dad in Kansas during the school سال and آپ live with آپ mom when you’re on vacation. Holidays were every other, except Christmas and Thanksgiving. آپ normally spend those alone because your parents were somehow always “out of town.”

Slapping your forehead only to yelp out-loud, آپ accidentally ran into someone.

“Hey! I was just coming to get you.” Sincerity took form of a smile on his face but as soon as he caught glimpse of your purple-patched face, sincerity took the back نشست for rage. “What happen? Was it Ivan again?!” He marched forward, feet echoing the classroom.

“Russ, I’m fine!” Instantly آپ hated the sound of your voice, so fake and strain. آپ were worst actor than those damn Disney kids.

“Bullshit, tell me where he is!” He roared right your face, the vein in his neck popping against his tanned skin. “Why does he always pull this shit when I’m not around.”

Because he knows you’ll defend me like some princess.

“I don’t know.” آپ croaked retreating back from uncomfortable position they were in. Now with a good distance between them, 3 steps back, آپ continued, “ who knows and who cares? Let’s just drop it okay?”

Russ snapped his head back in disgust, he snapped,” how many ‘just drop it’ will it take until he does مزید than this? One thing for sure, I’m done with ‘just dropping it’ when it comes to this asshole. Do آپ understand that? Do آپ understand that I am going to whoop his ass.” آپ flinched, آپ hit a nerve and now آپ regret it. Russ wasn’t the type to lose his cool just like that.

“I’m sorry…” Whimpering as آپ drew back into your shirt, your hand clenching the S-shield charm underneath your shirt. Hoping it’ll give آپ strength to endure this rare rage. “I.. I…” Words fled from your mind, making آپ look like a fool with his mouth wide open.

“No, no…” Exhaling his wrath out, Russ reached out and pats your head down. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, آپ weren’t the one at fault here. Unless آپ ran into his fist.”

“Oh no!” آپ played along with his joke with your damsel voice, “however did آپ know?” آپ gasped while آپ assume the position; the back of your hand pressing down your forehead while آپ clenched a handful of your shirt.

“Sir, I am Sherlock Holmes.” Russ mocked an English accent when he straightens out his posture.

“Bullocks!” آپ stuck your tongue out at him.

Russ and آپ started bursting into laughter at your lame attempt at an English accent; آپ blame your thick Brooklyn accent. An accent that Russ nickname, “Mobster.”

“C’mon let’s go the nurse and clean آپ up.”

“Nope!” آپ dodge, “I’ll do it at home.”

Before any protest, Russ ran to the door and guards it with his soccer-molded body.

“Bloody athletes,” آپ snarled in your horrific Austin Powers accent.

“You have to get through me first.”

Raising a brow over the square-framed glasses, آپ couldn’t believe this guy. Again آپ thank Batman for your cat like movements. آپ swept under his arm and went out the door, leaving nothing مزید than a small giggle. آپ couldn’t see Russ but something just made آپ want to turn. Following your gut, آپ look over your shoulder to get a mouth full of jacket. آپ stagger back at the sudden force; the جیکٹ fell into your open hands.

“It’s going to rain and I don’t have time to take care of a sick-o.” Russ joked with his head poking out the door. “I’ll stop سے طرف کی your house later.”

“Okay.” Already آپ slipped on his large coat.

“Bye Supes!”

“Bye Flash.”

The door swung shut and again آپ were alone. This time آپ manage to escape the school grounds without running into any مزید people. The rain picked up when آپ hit a crosswalk. Rapidly آپ started to write a lecture آپ will vividly as well as lividly shout, no, tell Russ. What was the point of giving آپ a جیکٹ for the rain when it has no hood? Luckily آپ kept an umbrella in your backpack. Glancing up to check if the red hand turn into a walking man yet, آپ quickly slide your backpack off one shoulder to dig into.

“Yes,” آپ whispered with glee.

To your panic, the umbrella slip out of your hand when someone bump into you. آپ whip your body around to see who it was. Your mind went blank.

“I didn’t see آپ there, my glasses fogged up and I was cleaning it.” His voice, so deep it resonated throughout your body like crashing lightning. Yet آپ listen to his cloying voice but آپ were engaged. His crystal irises webbed آپ in. “I’m sorry.” He reached down and grabbed the umbrella.

“ It’s fine,” آپ wheezed, taking back the umbrella.

His smiled brought all the maidens heads over their heels. Long story short, this guy look like the stereotypical America and damn it, آپ should not be thinking this right now. آپ want to know why?

“Hey, your that guy from behind the ble—“

Before he can finish, آپ beeline out onto the crosswalk dropping your umbrella mid way. Damn, why didn’t آپ notice before آپ started checking him out? That was the blurry guy in the far back!

“Hey! Come back!” He shouted

آپ kept running and running for no reason until آپ reached home. آپ slammed the door open and slammed it shut with your back. The house was pitched black meaning Dad wasn’t ہوم yet. آپ slide down the door while آپ brought your knees to your chest.

“Oh man.” آپ saw your empty hands, it was then when آپ just notice آپ drop your umbrella. Banging the back of your head on the door at your lost but mostly your gain یا what آپ think you’ll gain.

Grimacing with each bang against the door, آپ dreaded the fact that there might be a new problem brewing. آپ started to ramble in the dark. It was not till the اگلے morning that nailed it.

Grabbing your Chem. book, your ear twitched at the unexpected squeak beside you. Turning آپ saw the man whom filled آپ thoughts the night before, whether یا it was dirty یا not that آپ refuse to neither deny nor confirm. He was standing right there, wearing his Letterman: The mark of a football player.

“Hmmm, Vash?” He shyly called out.

Damn, damn, damn, damn. Vash was starting an internal meltdown.