Battle Wounds

twenty two.

The days that followed the fight didn't feel real. It was like they were in a fever dream that no one could wake up from. School had been shut down for the last couple of days while all those who participated in the fight were suspended. That was the extent of the punishments that the school doled out. Aside from Tory getting expelled, it didn't seem fair that all everyone got was a slap on the wrist. Because Robby was still made out to be the scapegoat for the fight. He was still wanted by the police to answer for his crimes.

Yes, he put Miguel in the hospital.

Yes, he was guilty of hurting him.

But... It had been an accident. A horrible, dreadful, unfortunate accident.

The only person who seemed to understand that was Harper. She'd seen Robby's face when Miguel fell, and saw how he reacted to finding out that Miguel was still in the hospital. He felt just as terrible about this as everyone. Possibly more so since this was technically his fault. But because he was a kid with a past, that was all anyone could see. They didn't take into account that he had a rough life or that he hadn't meant to hurt Miguel. They saw facts, nothing more.

It was unfortunate but it was the reality for kids like Robby, like Harper.

The kids who should be protected at all costs were thrown to the wolves while those who had it all were kept safe. Protected in their cozy houses by parents who actually have a shit.

Harper clutched her phone as if for dear life, anticipating a call or text that could never come. The last she'd heard from Robby was days ago. He was okay or so he said. But since then it's been radio silence and she was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Because her friend was out there fending for himself, unable to trust the very people who should've been on his side from the start.

Even though she was home on suspension, she was aware of the rumors. She knew that people viewed Robby as a villain. Those people didn't even know him yet they judged him at a time when he was at his lowest.

Frustrated didn't even begin to describe how she felt. Sadly, there was very little she could do about it.

Looking up from the screen, she turned her attention toward Sam and Demetri. For the first time since the accident, they were hanging out though it felt more like a funeral than anything else. Sam sat on her bed, absentmindedly picking at the bandage that covered her arm while Demetri stared off into space, lost in a world of his own.

"How long do you need to keep that thing on?" Demetri asked what felt like hours later, breaking the delicate silence.

Sam looked up. Blinking, she dropped her hand from the bandage. "Just a couple more days. It should be healed up by then or at least that's what the doctors told my parents but I'll have the scars for the rest of my life."

"I'm sure they look badass," Demetri said in an attempt to lighten the mood but only turned it more sour. "Sorry."

Sam smiled sadly, spacing out for a moment. "I just wish that Miguel was okay. It's not fair how we all fought and got out with just a few cuts and bruises while he's in the hospital."

"Any idea how he's doing?" Harper asked tentatively.

"He's the same. I stopped by the hospital earlier today but they're still limiting how many visitors he gets," Sam said with a sniffle. "But he's not good. He's still in a coma. And you guys should've seen his mom and grandma. They looked absolutely heartbroken and helpless. And all we can do is wait."

It wasn't what Harper wanted to hear but at least he wasn't doing worse. She tried to look on the bright side though it looked bleak.

"He'll be okay, right?" Demetri asked, voicing the one question they were all too scared to say, let alone think. He looked at them, his hopeful expression falling as he read the thoughts that were painted on their faces.