Trust

✍ Broken

March came back to school the next day. She was coughing when she met me outside our biology class.

"You sound terrible, Ems," I said. "Are you sure you’re well enough to be in school today?"

She took a tissue from her bag and blew her nose. "I have no choice. I have a chemistry test today." Her voice was nasally. She blew again, this time, loudly. A few people turned to stare at us.

"Tests can wait. Your health should be your priority."

March shook her head. "How's Adam? I heard from Russell that he's in the hospital. Is he okay?"

I pulled a face at the conspicuous change of subject. "He's better. Hopefully, he'll be out by tomorrow."

"That's good." March tucked her tissue back into her bag instead of throwing it. "What happened to him anyway? Russell was a little sketchy on the details."

"Jared Litt and a few of his mindless drones decided to use him as their punching bag." I scowled.

"What? Are you sure?" March's eyes widened. "Why would they do that? Adam has never crossed any of them."

"Exactly," I said bitterly. "Adam's innocent. The only thing he's guilty of is a poor choice in girls." March gave me a confused look so I added, "He's dating Becky Litt."

Understanding dawned on March's face, slowly, then all at once- like a light bulb that slowly comes to life.

"Oh my goodness," she breathed. "Pops, don't do it."

I looked at her. "Do what?"

"Take your revenge on him. It won't work."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, feigning innocence.

"Pops." March grabbed my arm and dug her nails in. "You can't fight fire with fire. You will both end up being burned." Her green eyes shone with intensity.

Her nails hurt. I wrenched them away from me. "I. Don't. Care."

"Pops," March said.

"Ems."

"Pops," she tried again.

"Ems." We were at a stalemate.

March's face softened. "Please, Pops. It's in your best interests for you to drop this. I don't want to see my best friend get hurt."

I smiled. "I promise I won't."

March shook her head. She didn't believe me.

When I was still in grade school, I had had an overpowering interest in stories about war. I insisted my mother borrow all the war time stories she could from our local library and I spent hours holed up in my room, reading them. Over time, I'd noticed a recurring pattern: when a loved one left a character, they always promised they would come back home.

The thing was: they usually didn’t.

Mr Biggs arrived shortly after I spoke last, and we were ushered into the classroom in silence.

*****

People say that there was two instincts for animals when their lives are in danger- fight or flight. Most animals choose flight, but when cornered, all animals fight.

It was lunchtime when it all blew up like a grenade- except that the casualties were more than I expected.

Jared found me waiting for March at our usual table. He cornered me, like a mouse caught in a trap.

"Sullivan." Jared smirked, his blonde hair covered one blue eye.

I didn't say anything.

"How's Adam?"