You Can't Hurt Me

They was coronas

Upon waking up, Race walked down the stairs to get a bowl of cereal and was immediately sobered up with high pitched screaming. Loud, girly, screaming, by yours truly, Jack.

Race supposed his face swelled up from slight redness to a face caked with bruises overnight and that would be freaky to see. But there was no reason for Jack to drop his cereal bowl and scream the second Race dragged himself downstairs for school. Naturally this caused Race to shout in response and fall down the stairs.

Thankfully Race mostly just tripped down the last two steps, but now his foot and face was sore.

"Really?" He glared at Jack, who winced sheepishly.

"Sorry, but what the hell happened to your face." He poked Race's darkest, pulsing, purple bruise, and Race batted his hand away.

"I just hit my face on the bed frame." He said, getting up.

"You... you... hit your face on the... bed frame?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

Race gulped and nodded, "well okay I tripped over my shoes by the bed, and I- uh like hit my face on the corner then my face rolled and landed the side of the bed again, it was very painful."

Jack gave him a suspicious look, "didn't you take three years of online dance classes? Aren't dancers supposed to be graceful"

Race scowled and walked past Jack to grab a bowl, "okay that's irrelevant."

"Alright alright! I was just concerned. If people are bullying you Race-"

"I'd tell you immediately," Race confirmed, smiling up at Jack.

Jack returned his smile and ruffled Race's hair. "Good, I'll come in there and beat 'em up."

Race raised an eyebrow, "you? Beat them up?"

"I could beat someone up!"

"Mhmm, sure you could."

"Okay I don't appreciate the sass, go finish your cereal." Jack flicked Race's ear and Race cackled.

Today Jack drove Race to school, which Race suspected was because of the bruises and Jacks mother hen instincts. Race wore his biggest hoodie today and raised the hood to possibly cover up his watercolor face. It was starting to get all puffy and swollen too, which Race would prefer to go without comment.

"Antonio Higgins, put your hoodie down." Called Snyder, by far Race's least favorite teacher. He was cruel, perverted and the entire class was 100% convinced he was a pedophile. He often hung around favored students, giving them extra credit and letting them out of class easy. The rest of the class got cruelty that had to be illegal. There was no way a teacher was allowed to hit kids on the hands with metal rulers if they forgot their homework.

Race just happened to be the most favored student to hate. On the first day when Race smacked his hand away when he tried to ruffle his curls, like they were friends. Snyder's face hardened and he ended up smacking his arm and putting him in the very closest seat. Race never bothering to suck up to him, way too used to creepy adults in his life. While most adults laughed when Race joined a gambling game, some got way too excited. Almost like the idea of a kid at their game was a new and welcomed experience.

Race's heart pinged for his dad, who used to handle any issues with ease. When Race was 11 someone tried to grab and run off with him, he smiled fondly at his dad who immediately pulled out a knife and fought tooth and nail for him back. Now he was alone again, fighting his own battles for the first time.

"Why? You attracted to my pretty face? Snyder the Spider I pegged you as someone straight." Race propped his legs up on the table.

Snyders entire face burned beat red, with anger or embarrassment Race didn't know. Either way the class snickered all around him, and Race felt invincible again.