MORTALS

/01: The Introduction to my Very Messed Up Life

"So you punched him in the face?" My mother yelled at me.

I looked at my shoes, silently seething, unsure of what to say.

"Hey, Bell, what's the answer for question four?"

I ignored Nolan Allard, the biggest jock (read: bully) in this school. He nudged me again, this time slightly harder.

"Bell, I'm talking to you. What's the answer for four?"

I turned to face him, my voice a hushed whisper. "Listen, Allard. I know you have football and ladies to impress, so I whole-heartedly understand if you don't have enough spare brain cells to understand how grade ten biology works."

Nolan's face turned visibly red. The people in the rows in front and behind us snickered. "Listen here, Bell—"

"Allard, give me your test." The teacher said suddenly. Nolan looked up at the front desk, dumbstruck.

"Miss, I-I wasn't—"

"Talking? This is the fourth time you've been caught talking in thirty minutes and the third time I've had to move you. Give me your test."

Nolan looked up at the teacher, at a loss for words.

"I-I didn't... you can't—"

"Allard, give me your test." The teacher said finally.

Nolan slowly got up, shooting me a livid look. I felt his eyes burning holes into my skull, but I just kept my eyes on my own paper. He walked to the front of the classroom and dejectedly gave the teacher his paper.

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I groaned as someone's foot tripped me for the sixth time. The people on the bleachers laughed and snickered as someone from the other team stole the ball back and the rest of the two teams made their way across the field. I picked myself up.

Here's the thing; I'm actually good at soccer. I can play better than my brother, and that's saying something. He's one of the best players I know (personally, of course). He taught me how to dribble, how to pass, shoot, and score. Probably one of the best lessons he taught me was how to feint and make the opposing team look like losers.

Today, Nolan had it out for me. Now enter the cliche, where he's the quarterback of our school's football team and now the entire team is bullying me because I had the nerve to talk back to their 'king'. Of course, you can't forget the part where they get away with it. Every. Single. Time. Teachers never notice and my peers suddenly become blind.

Yeah. That's me right now.

I started jogging to where the action was. Nolan was on my team, ironically, and he was making it that much harder for us to win.

I don't want you guys to think any less of me, but I need to brag for a moment. I'm a really good soccer player. Like, really really good. Maybe one of the best in the class, or even the grade. I'm going to be blunt when I say some of the other people in bimbos. Seriously, someone tried to dribble a soccer ball the way you dribble a basketball.

I'm surrounded by idiots.

Nolan had the ball, and he was coming towards me. I was standing by the other teams net, ready to help him. About three people were on him, about to steal the ball. The rest of our team was all the way back at our net, trying to catch up. I was the only one open. If Nolan wanted to get our team another point, he would have to pass to me.

I waved my arms, signalling that I was the only other one there. Nolan stuck his tongue out at me and shook his head. I rolled my eyes at his stupidity and ran over to them. Just as I got there, Ivan from the other team stole the ball. Nolan muttered something unintelligible.