The Swap

Chapter 12 Jack

The nurse takes one look at me snd jumps up from her seat behind her desk. I guess it's the blood.

"Holy cats!" she says. "What happened to you?"

She has these crazy, twinkly, bright eyes, a heap of blackish-purple hair knotted on top of her head, and she's wearing leopard-print pajama-looking pants and top, with a stethoscope slung around her neck.

"Wowzers!" The nurse looks at me, eyes wide. "First day of school and we have blood!" She sounds almost excited and hands me a wet washcloth. "Here you go, hon. Come on in and sit down."

I sit down on the cot and take the washcloth off my nose while the nurse bends over and looks real close.

"Hmm," she says, "doesn't look broken..." She's, like, an inch away from my face. She smells like flowers. "I don't really think you need stitches, but dang!" She pauses and smiles big. "Rough day, huh?"

I try and sit up straighter on the cot. I ctant stop shaking. I have so much adrenaline going through my body.

"Why don't you lie back?" she tells me.

This is a different nurse than last year. I've never seen her before. "I'm fine," I tell her.

I don't feel fine. I'm suddenly really tired and a little bit woozy. I grip the edge of the cot with my hands and try and steady myself.

"Hey, so are you going to tell me what happened to your eye?" She smiles. "That doesn't look like it's from today."

"Hockey," I answer.

Her eyes light up. "Hockey? Rad!"

Her eyes are this unreal blue. She's kind of a rocket, as Sammy would say. I watch her as she grabs an ice pack out of the mini fridge and trades me for the damp, bloody washcloth.

"Looks like it might hurt a little bit?" she asks.

I shrug, like, No. Big. Deal. It actually does hurt, though.

A lot.

The nurse bends down again and looks real close right into my eyes.

"Is your vision blurry?"

I shake my head.

"How about double?" she asks. "Do you see two of me?" She breaks into a grin.

"No, ma'am," I answer.

"That would be scary, right? Two of me! Yikes!" she jokes. I notice she has a tattoo of a half-naked lady riding a tiger climbing up her neck toward to word FEARLESS inked onto her skin in curvy dark script, almost like graffiti. She doesn't look like any school nurse I've ever seen.

I try not to be so obvious. I'm kind of staring.

"Okay, so the nose?" she asks. "What's the story there?"

"Um." I stop and try to think of what I should say. "I ran into a wall."

"A wall, huh? Must have been a mean wall." She laughs. She has a warm, funny laugh. I squint back at her hand on my shoulder and I flinch. "Just lie back, and keep pinching your nose and keep the ice on it, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," I say.

I slowly lower myself back onto the cot. The pillow feels good. Man! My heart is still pounding. I'm so amped! I lie there and stare up at the square tiles on the ceiling and replay the fight in my head. I replay it like a highlight video on ESPN, sort of how other people would see it, almost like I'm watching myself on YouTube in super slow motion.

Jack Malloy vs. Porter Gibson 660,000 views.

Did I win or did I lose? How many punches did I land? I glance down at my mangled red knuckles. I guess I connected with something! He threw a couple of sloppy punches, but he really didn't hit me besides... well, besides the wall... I think I landed two or three. I'm pretty sure I got the upper hand. Pound for pound, he's bigger. I'm stronger, faster-I went full out! I replay it again and again. Man. I hate it when guys hide. He was scared. He was all talk! When I fight, I'm gonna throw. I'm not going to back down from anyone.