Burnt Out - Patrick Hockstetter.

Chapter 21; Sunflowers.

I walked into Science 15 minuets from the end.

"Sit down, Hockstetter." the teacher sighed, stopping the lesson. "Why are you late?"

I proudly lifted my hands into the air, showing off my bloody and bruised knuckles, which stung like a bitch, and presented my anger with a toothy grin.

The teacher sighed again but continued the lesson without another word about me. I didn't pay attention for the whole 15 minuets I was there, and ended up zoning out, in deep thought about what I was going to have for lunch.

"Tuna sandwich!" I called when Belch pulled me up from my seat, snapping me from my daydream.

He raised and eyebrow at me. Most of the people had left the class and it was just me, Belch and some kid who was in detention, alongside sir who was tapping away on his keyboard.

Following Belch to the cantine, I tripped up a few freshmen and pushed another into the lockers, my morning rage still teasing my reactions. I rolled my eyes and groaned when I noticed Ali sitting in MY seat, at OUR table.

"Move." I deadpanned, hovering over her.

"Make me." she cockily replied.

I did as I was told. Grabbing her by the back of her hoodie, I drag her up from the plastic chair and threw her over to the side.

"My seat." I declared, sitting down.

Her eyes then seemed to gloss over as she stormed off out of the cantine. I didn't feel any emotions towards the girl. I wasn't too sure on how she wanted me to react so I let her leave.

Small talk was made throughout break, but I ignored most of it and focused on my hands, which I soon realised I couldn't move at all. The blood had dried and gone crusty and the bruising was getting darker. They hurt. Alot.

Once the bell rang, I was the first at the table to stand up and start to leave.

"Patrick! Hey!" I heard Vic call me from behind.

"What do you want?" I growled, turning around and glairing at him. He looked hurt.

"I just wanted to give you your hoodie back..." he mumbled, looking like a kicked puppy.

I softened my glair and attempted a smile. "Keep it."

He smiled back and walked in sync with me to arts.

Once we arrived, I realised how much I didn't want to be there. The air was thick with both tension and paint fumes and the dull lighting depressed me.

I rolled my eyes at took my seat near the back. Vic sat next to me and took out his sketchbook. He was doodling a flower. It was a nice flower, a pretty sunflower that only took up a small amount of the page. My focus was taken to the pencil and the soft but swift movements his hand made across the page, each adding more shading and depth to the flower.

Once he finished the drawing, I adverted my eyes away, plaguing my focus to a tree outside that had lost it's leafs to the autumn cold.

"Can I keep it?" I whispered to Vic, not wanting the attention from the teacher.

"What. Keep what?" he quizzed, barely auditable.

"The flower drawing," I stated, signalling to his art book.

He nodded and flipped to the page, ripping it out and flipping it over, writing something on the back.

"Hockstetter, Criss, pay attention!" the teacher called, drawing attention to us both.

I carefully placed the drawing into my bag and glaired at all thr people who were stairing.

At the end of the lesson, I quickly took a peek at what Vic wrote on the back of the drawing.

'Patrick,

Stop punching walls or I will punch you. Also, wash your hair.

From your best friend, Vic x.

p.s. thanks for letting me stay at yours, shit at home is confusing at the moment"

I secretly smiled at the paper and shoved it back into my bag, making sure not to crease it.