Young Hearts (A LawRusso Story)

Chapter 3 - The Bruise

The digital alarm clock on my bedside table went off at 7:00 the next day, which made me turn around to shut it up with a heavy grunt. I felt an immense pain in my ribs, and the area around my right eye was pounding along with the rest of my head. This was the worst I had ever felt in my entire life, and the humiliation after last night's events at the beach was already swarming my mind.

I had rode my bike home alone, Freddy left a bit earlier with his friends, but I did not mind. That blonde boy, whom I eventually heard his friends call 'Johnny', had beaten me so bad that I did not bear to get up of the ground for a long while. He had left me wheeling in pain on the cold sand. That nice girl, Ali, whom I had tried to defend against Johnny, acted rather concerned over me. I had turned her away anyway, not wanting to appear even more pathetic by accepting her help. It was late and dark when I finally found my way back to the apartment complex called 'South Seas'. I was immensely relieved however, that my mother was not awake when I got home and saw the shape I was in.

Finally I managed to roll out of bed, careful not to lean on my right side, and scurried across the hallway into the small bathroom. My reflection in the scrubby mirror revealed that I did not look any better than I felt. My right eye was covered in a horrible, deep purple bruise and a blood vessel had burst so it covered most of the white around my iris. A bit of dried blood was still visible on the inside of my nostrils, so I used a wet tissue to wipe it away. It did not do much to improve my general appearance though.

I went back in my bedroom and threw some clothes on before I started digging through the bags in a scavenge hunt for something to cover up my beaten face with. A hat maybe, or a baseball cap. Then, bingo. An pair of my fathers old pilot shaped sunglasses, safely kept in a brown leather case, were laying in the bottom of a big trunk. I barely had time to put the shades on before I could hear my mother's voice from the kitchen.

"Daniel, hurry up or you'll be late for your first day!" She called in her usual cheerful way.

"Coming." I called back, and hurried to scramble my gym shorts, a T-shirt, shower things, the new notepad and a few pens in my school bag.

I was still determined to make the school soccer team, covered in bruises or not. I wondered if Freddy and his friends would make the team again this year, it would be nice with a few familiar faces. Then the thought hit me that the blonde rude boy, Johnny, might be trying out for the team as well. I really hoped not. I swung my bag over one shoulder got ready to leave.

"How was the party?" My mother asked me, as I was trying to move past the kitchen to the front door.

"It was okay." I answered simply.

"Must have been more than okay. I didn't hear you come in." My Mother laughed and took a sip of her coffee. "Any friend material?" She asked with a curious look.

"Some. I got to go." I said and continued towards the door, not wanting to stay around and chit chat.

"Eat first." My mother instructed, nodding meaningfully to the table in front of her were she had set up an enormous breakfast.

"I'm not hungry." I hurried to say, ignoring my grumbling stomach.

"You need energy to be charming." She continued beaming.

"I'm fine. I got energy." I tried to assure her, turning again to leave.

"Do me a favor. Take off the glasses." My mother said, a sudden change of tone was noticeable in her voice.

"Why?" I asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Because I asked you to." She pressed on.

"It's California. It's the look." I said, trying my best to get my mother to let it go.

I even walked up to the table and crabbed a couple of french toasts to satisfy her. Also, I could need some food in me before the soccer try outs. It would be extremely embarrassing to pass out in the middle of the field due to a blood sugar crash.

"I want to see your baby browns." She clearly did not want to let it go. "Are you on something?" A hint of suspicion in her eyes as the idea dawned on her.

My mother was one of the most strong headed persons I knew, and she would not let this go without a fight. I made a few more, meaningless, attempts to persuade her that I was not hiding my eyes for her, but she would not have it.

"Take the glasses off. Now." She ordered.

I sighed, recognized myself defeated, and did as she wished. A loud gasp fell from her mouth as I removed my dad's old glasses and revealed my gruesome injury.

"My god!" She exclaimed, putting down her mug to use her free hands to cover her mouth. "How did that happen?" She asked with a startled expression.

"I hit a kerb with my bike." I hurried to come up with a believable lie. "I wore the glasses so you wouldn't worry." I continued.

That last part was at least true. I did not want her to be worried about me already getting in trouble with my new classmates. I had not even gotten through my first day of school, but had nevertheless been in a fight with, whom I sincerely hoped was, the worst bully in the area. My mother did not look completely convinced, but seemed to be buying my made-up story after all.

"Can you see?" She asked with a concerned gaze on my battered eye. "You want to stay home?"

"I got to go." I said, and finally managed to make it out of the front door.

Now the most challenging task was completed, convincing my mother to believe that I had been in an unfortunate accident, I could get on with the first day of my senior year.