If Only

Chapter 11- The Floor of the Boy's Bathroom

It was another school day. Thursday. Then Friday. The week was almost past, almost. I rode alone on the bus, Nadia hadn't shown up. I wasn't technically alone. The bus was filled with people. But I didn't talk to any of them so I might as well be.

It was a silent ride all the way there. Has it always been this quiet? Maybe. Maybe I hadn't noticed because Nadia had always been here, talking like she couldn't stop. I would normally find this annoying, in a friend sort of way of course. But right now, I longed for her voice. We finally arrive at school and I dart off the bus, avoiding everyone. I'm on a roll, not running into anyone when I freeze, someone's hand clamped on my shoulder.

"Hey Flasher." they whisper as they lean near my ear. I fly around and face the voice. Bryon.

"Get away from me." I sneer, yanking from his grasp.

"Hey. Now, now, now. That's no way to talk to someone." he smirks.

"Shut up. You don't deserve my respect." I spit, turning and trying to storm down the hallway. He grabs me again.

"Let go of me!" I scream. The hallway went silent, everyone turned to face us. The only voices were a few spare whispers from the crowd. My face grows hot as I look down. Bryon doesn't say anything. Like the coward I am, I turn and rush down the hallway. As I grab my things from my locker, I rush to science class. I can't recall the last time I was actually looking forward to any class, let alone science. I find my seat near the window and sit down, dropping my stuff and laying my head down on the table. Reuben enters and sits down beside me.

Noticing something is wrong, he asks, "Hey? Everything okay? What happened?" I shook my head, signaling that I didn't want to talk about it. He obviously understood because he didn't ask about it again. The teacher entered the room with a smile, shut the door, and began class. I fell asleep.

"Fleur." someone says, smacking the table near my head. I jump, eyes full of fear, and see Ms. Linsy standing there furious.

"Y-yes?" I ask, stretching and looking around. I notice no one else is in the class.

"You fell asleep again." she scolds.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Just get to your next class." she sighs, holding her head in her hand and resting her elbow on her side, her body bent and her leg stuck out. I nod and apologize as I quickly gather my things and once again sprint to my locker. I throw my stuff inside and rush to gym class. I arrive just as people begin changing. I'm out of breath but I change into my uniform speedily.

"Alright everyone, to the gym!" the teacher calls. We file out of the changing room and run into the football team.

"Oh." someone says as they run into me.

"Sorry." we say simultaneously. I look up and realize it's Darion. I notice his face redden as he sees me in shorts- not sure how my baggy basketball shorts are hot but okay. The tips of my ears grow hot as I turn away.

The teacher, dragging out the 'u' in excuse, says, "Excuse us". The players move as far to the side as they can, creating a path for us to go through. The teacher calls into the boy's locker room, telling them to come out, and then, once we all merge, we head to the gym. We sit on our dots as the teacher calls our names, everyone saying "here" when they're called. Then we get into a game of soccer.

"Drop back!" one of the boys, a soccer player for our school, calls.

"No one knows what that means! Not all of us play soccer!" a girl yells. The boy rolls his eyes and steals the ball. I stand, worthless in the corner. I, like most people in the class, don't play soccer. On the other hand, I can't kick a ball either. Which makes me worse than everyone, even those who don't do any sports. So I'm making it a point to stay in the corner near the goalie. A mistake. Someone, obviously a soccer player, comes flying at me, the ball hovering around his feet as he moves. Oh no. People are calling my name, telling me to go after the ball. So I do. Another mistake. I charge at the person and try to stop them. My foot manages to make contact with the ball, but not enough to stop it. I slip and fall to the ground, catching myself with my hands. The player flies past me and kicks the ball with force. It darts directly into the goal. The opposite team, the one that had that player, cheers. My team slouches. I let out a curse under my breath as I stand and wipe my hands on my shirt. They're red, stinging from hitting the ground with such force but I ignore the pain and get into place. The teacher starts the game again. I noticed that some people, though they ran with the team, didn't do much. So I ran too. My third mistake. I run with the group, staying between the people. I let the soccer players and people who can actually kick the ball do all the work as I stay with them and try to act like I'm doing something helpful. My act is going well until the ball starts coming at me. Coming at me. At me! By the time I process that the ball is flying straight at my face, it's way too late. The soccer ball collides with me and I double over, holding my face.