The New Boy

waiting

I lay there, on the ground, in pain. I can't act like I'm hurt. not now. not in my senior year of cheering.

"shit." I almost scream in pain as I try to get up.

I need to get up.

I roll over onto my stomach and get on my hands and knees.

I bring up my left foot, not wanting to put any weight on my right ankle. I push myself up, no weight on my right side.

I see people rushing towards me. Jack is the first to get to me.

"are you okay?" he asks worried.

"I better fucking be." I say sort of angrily, the anger not directed at him, but at myself.

"can I at least carry you?" he asks.

"fine." I say, trying to hide my smile. I try to hop on his back the best I can, but he has to readjust me. everyone else is just now getting there.

"it's not broken. I'm fine." I say, not wanting to listen to their pity or questions. Jack takes me over to Mr. James and he tells Jack to take me to the nurses office.

"thank you." I say to Jack, him still carrying me.

"for what? if I ever hurt my ankle, I'll be on your back." he says laughing a little.

"okay. sounds good." I say, forgetting about the pain a little and laughing.

"how bad does it hurt?" he asks concerned.

"pretty bad. that's what worries me. I do not want to be out for cheering. if it's anything bad, I'll just wait a few days and then come back on a ton of pain killers." I say, pretending to be joking, but I'm actually serious.

"I'm going to be 100% honest and tell you this right now." Jack says.

"okay?" I ask confused and curious.

"I have no idea where the nurses office is. I've just been walking around hoping that I find it." he says and this causes me to laugh even more.

"go to the end of this hall and take a left. it's the third door in the right." I tell him and he follows my directions.

"so what seems to be wrong?" Ms. Peters asks me.

"she-" Jack starts to say, but I cut him off.

"I think I twisted my ankle playing football, but I'm not sure what happened. I hope it's not bad." I tell her.

she's always been my favorite person in this school. when I used to not eat, I would always come down here and talk to her.

she would make me eat, which I didn't like then, but I'm really thankful for. I was always afraid of throwing up, so I wouldn't eat for a week and then my mom and dad would force me to.

this went on for a few months in junior high. I lost like 30 pounds.

"okay. can you sit her down?" she asks Jack.

"sounds good. and I'm Jack Gilinsky by the way, it's my first year here." he tells her. Jack sits me on the cot that she has in her office.

"I'm Ms. Peters." she tells him and then turns her attention to me.

"it's my right ankle." I tell her, without her having to ask.

she takes off my sneaker and examines it without touching it. she finally looks up at me.

"I'm going to touch it, let me know if it hurts worse when I touch it. okay?" she asks and I nod.

she starts by touching my knee, which obviously doesn't hurt, and then moves down my leg.