Puck (Kickstarting My Heart #3) (COMPLETED)

Psych(o) 101

The weeks that followed Chase's suicide attempt left me in desperate need of one thing.

Advil.

Between the assemblies, the lectures from teachers, counselors, and parents alike, and the local church holding Youth Groups our parents forced us to attend, I wanted no more than to curl up in my blankets and sleep. I was a bitch, sure, and at times I could be cold hearted, but the thought of suicide had never even crossed my mind. Because every parent thought their child was in danger of becoming Chase, we all were forced to do as asked at all times.

So when the time came for normal classes to resume close to a month later, I didn't know whether to be relieved or wish to have the assemblies in place of class all over again. I had forgotten just how much I hated Psych last semester, and walking into class for the first time since, I cringed at the sight of new seating arrangements.

Mr. Collins was a true believer in group work. He almost always had every assignment a partner assignment, and I had just finally started to warm up to my partner. She was a really quiet junior who had actually done some of the work, unlike the hundreds of boys and jocks I'd been partnered with for projects over the years. They'd all just thrown the workload on me and expected me to do it; which I had, but only so my grades didn't take a nose dive.

"Miss Harper, is there a reason you're still standing?" Mr. Collins nasally voice stirred me out of my thoughts. The rest of the class had poured in as the second bell rung through the speaker over my head, pushing and shoving their way past me to find their seats. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from lashing out at a few people, inhaling deeply as I scanned the tables for my name card. When I finally caught sight of it I groaned internally. My table was smack dab in the middle of the room, surrounded by people from every angle. Worse? Whoever my partner was hadn't even bothered to show up for school.

I lowered myself into my seat, dropping my backpack on the ground beside me, eyes trained on the clock.

"As you know, we had an unexpect-" Mr. Collins never got to continue on with his lecture about what happened to Chase.

Because the devil himself cleared his throat in the doorway.

Gasps sounded throughout the room, followed by a chorus of whispering and picture taking. The sick feeling I'd felt in the pit of my stomach the night I found out a month ago started once I allowed myself to take in his full appearance.

A once unmistakably handsome face was scarred and bruised. His full lips, lips every girl in school had dreamt of laying theirs upon, were cut, chapped, and peeling. The biggest scar, and the most attention drawing one, started under his left eyes and stretched all the way across his face to under his right cheekbone. His entire face appeared sunken in, once beautiful ocean-like eyes half open and adamant on avoiding every pair of eyes trying to catch them. For the first time in his life, uncomfortable with the attention, Chase leaned forward on his crutches, trying to shift the foot in a brace, slightly elevated off the ground.

"I'd appreciate it if none of you spoke of the accident my son was in a few weeks ago. Have a great day." Our Coach gave his son a quick nod, then squeezed his coworkers shoulder and disappeared out of the classroom and out of sight.

Mr. Collins waited until Coach Parker's footsteps were no longer heard to turn to the class. "I'll give you all five seconds to put your phones away before I come and confiscate them."

The class didn't have to be told twice. They all returned to what they'd been doing before Chase stepped in, flipping their phones over on their screens and whispering back and forth.