He's on the floor, the hard, dirty tile, and I'm still holding onto him. He looks like he's in pain, and he's absolutely still. I don't know what to do, but some jock that had been throwing him sleazy looks rushes over.
"Oh god, Connie! Is she okay?" He asks, starting to pick him up.
I scowl at him. "His name is Connor."
The jock rolls his eyes. "Sure, and my name is Sophia." I grit my teeth and let go of Connor's hand, then walk away.
Why did I run after him anyway?
I felt compelled to... But I don't know why. I continue walking and almost crash into 14 different people. Idiots.
I should've never let that guy take Connor.
I sigh in frustration. I make it to my next class, and by then, I'm furious. Wonderful.
YOU ARE READING
Cracked Up
Teen FictionA story about a boy who hasn't laughed in 3 years and a transboy who tries too hard.
