Fighting Demons

Nyx

Crap. A pop quiz on David Copperfield in Classic Literature, the only class I struggled in. Of all books, why David Copperfield? I don't understand older language. For goodness' sake, I'm a breakdancer, not an English major!

Anyways, I decided to start the test. The chapter was a blur, but I remember something about a boat and an idiot named James. I turned in the test, then looked down at my watch. Double crap. I was late to my lesson. I ditched class and jumped into my car (I kid you not, I probably went forty over the speed limit). As always, the parking lot was full for the Legacy Center, so I parked in front of a gas station nearby. I jumped out of my car, didn't see the curb, and did the most graceful thing in the world.

I fell flat on my face. Real smooth, Nyx, I thought. I ran inside, hands scraped up and bleeding from the gravel, grabbed a water bottle, and once again tripped, but this one was different.

Somebody caught me.

I muttered a thanks, then stood up to see who it was. It was a boy in a Black Veil Brides t-shirt. I probably said something real intelligent, like, "um, okay." Don't get me wrong, I love BVB with a passion, I'm just that really awkward person that you swear is a walking Google. Besides, I was in a rush.

"Whoa, slow down before you hurt someone, miss graceful" he smiled. "Where are you headed off to?"

"Off... to...a dance...practice," I gasped, out of breath.

"Really? What style?"

"Break...dancing." I noticed his bright blue eyes light up when I said that.

"Nice! I'm heading off to watch a basketball game, but I'm only staying for the first bit. Where are your lessons? I didn't know they had them around here."

Luckily, I had stopped breathing like an underoxygenated whale, so I replied normally. "Legacy center down the street."

Just then, I felt weak. I pulled an Epi-pen-looking thing out of my duffle bag. The boy looked at it curiously.

"What's that? If you don't mind me asking," he quickly said, shying away sheepishly.

I had to laugh. "It's an insulin shot, so I don't pass out. It's a new study for people with... problems. I'm Nyx, by the way, but everyone calls me Rebel." I said, as I administered the injection. I didn't care talking about the shot, but the other thing? Not in front of a stranger.

"Oh. I'm Evan. I like Nyx more than Rebel, personally." He was silent for a while. He paid for a muffin, then told me he was going to the Legacy center, too.

"May I escort you, Lady Nyx?" He asked, jokingly holding out his arm.

I smiled. "If you can keep up!" I called, sprinting down the sidewalk.

"Okay, whatever." He called back, walking at a normal pace. Real graceful, Nyxie, I thought. Now everyone in Salt Lake City knew I was weird. Hooray.

This line break for President_______________________________________________________

Halfway through the 30 minute warm-up, I heard footsteps through the doorway. Either the assistant coach decided he wasn't sick anymore, or else there was a visitor. I looked up from push-ups and glanced a pair of blue eyes. I ignored them, hoping the visitor wouldn't notice me. Luckily, the coach walked over to him too answer questions about who - knows - what. The visitor asked if there was a girl named Nyx or Rebel in the room. Annoyed, I wished the kid wasn't here, but I recognized the voice too well. The coach laughed. "Who, Hemera? Is she still trying to convince people that's her name?"

What was going through my mind?

Nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope.

Yeah, my name is Hemera, like the goddess of the day. I just never appealed to the whole daytime concept. I'm very much the opposite, hence Nyx, goddess of night.

"Besides, "the coach continued, "you look like a good kid, sorta. You shouldn't hang around people like her. She's got... issues."

"That's it," I snarled. I picked up my mat, my bag, and my water bottle. "Later, butt brain. You can take your papers for the A.A.P. and kiss them goodbye. I QUIT." I yelled. If Coach wanted to treat me like I'm a nobody because of something I had no control over, good for him, but we both know he needed me to get into this special program.

I turned to Evan. "So, what do you want?" I said, probably a little too angrily. He seemed a little taken aback. (I've had people tell me I was scary when I was angry, so his nervousness seemed normal to me.)

"I wanted to ask you some things, about the shot. I really like science, even though I love crazy bands like BVB. I-"

I never heard the rest. I passed out.