I'm Fine

Chapter 10 Martin

Gym class was the one class we all shared, it was a one-in-a-million really. Not only did all five of us shared the same class, but we had Mr. Clarke as a teacher who was also our head coach. He was fond of us, and or really unaware of what we were, or rather, weren't doing. He wouldn't give a shit if we didn't put in the 100% effort that he expected from everyone else, as long as we'd never miss an afterschool practice, which we didn't. We had a cardio day, we were all crammed into the school's equipment room, most of the guys were allies with our group, and then there was the small number that was required to be there to make up for failed years.

Cardio days were fine because everybody, including Mr. Clarke, had earbuds plugged into their ears, the volume just quiet enough to hear the end of each round chime with a timer. We were all sitting on the bench presses, Damon and Brentt, the real athletes were working out but more for show, Damon, who looked pumped up like a balloon was using a spare bench press set at least twenty pounds below his average challenge, and Brentt was doing biceps curl-ups as if his biceps didn't already look like they were filled with rocks. They were in the midst of a fantasy football debate when a scrawny kid approached, I wouldn't have really noticed him if he hadn't gotten in our way so much, but seeing him in front of us I knew there'd be trouble. He was the one kid who still snitched and bothered people who wouldn't directly follow rules. Rules were his recipe for being a pain in the ass.

"Excuse me" he wheezed, out of breath from just a treadmill. He pointed a thumb at the timer that's been reset for the next station.

"I think that the station's rotated"

"We know," Jax said coolly, shifting towards him.

"So then could I-"

"Would you mind working on another station" I suggested, of course, the kid couldn't take the hint because he kept trying.

"Well yeah, but it's my turn and I've done every station already"

"Do another one?" he sighed and slumped back to the treadmill. I watched as he kicked tirelessly at the merciless rubber, he could run a lot better if somebody had shown him.

"Dumbass," Brent said in between sets shaking his head. We had finally gone back to the fantasy football debate, which I had confidently been able to announce my lineup had hope after all when he heard the rationed, tart whistle blow.

"Bates, Tucker, Perrez, Torres, Peterson" he rambled off as if it was attendance, in his loud booming voice that could clear rooms. "Get over here"

"Yeah?" I rendered immediately hearing my name.

"Move stations" he muttered

"Why? We weren't bothering anyone?" Damon said getting up from the bench.

"You were bothering Aaron," he said defensively, nodding his head in the scrawny boy's direction as if he was one of his favorite students.

"He was fine"

"I don't care. Move stations," we groaned. Did I forget to mention that when he wasn't oblivious, he was a hard-ass?

"What was that?" His face narrowed as he got up and drew himself to his full height, in response to our groans, I wondered if he thought he was making up for all the times he didn't bother 'disciplining' us.

"It's just we weren't doing anything" Brentt started

"Detention" yep just like that. Oblivious until pissed off, that was Mr. Clarke. We stifled our groans until we were scattered at different stations glaring at Aaron. Clarke's obliviousness had been switched back on because he sat back down in his chair and plugged his earbuds into his overly large ears. I didn't talk much for the rest of the gym and regretted leaving my earbuds in my gym locker. When the final station had concluded I reset the weight settings on the foot press back to 20 before I got up and left to go to the locker room, it took maybe a minute, but when I was done everybody else had disappeared into the locker room.

"I didn't say anything!" I heard as I entered, the sound of a fist striking against a cheek was horrifyingly audible, I looked up and saw it happen again. Aaron was surrounded by Damon, Wyatt, Brentt, and Jax while everyone else was steering clear of them. I'd seen them do it all too often, and Aaron should've been aware that they'd take their anger out on him, he was every school's punching bag and his irritability would be swallowed for a few days and he'd just be shut off, and not noticeable.

"Oh really?" He either nodded or his head weakly fell to his chin and bounced back up again.

"Then why do we have detention?"

"I'm sorry" he whined as another fist slammed into his chest. He was desperate for someone, anyone to help him. His eyes searched until they found mine.

"Martin," he whimpered. "Martin," I looked into his eyes, that was the trap.

I've always seen eyes, they spiral inward towards a black pupil that could disappear as the iris would be unwound into the spiral. Layers of memories that form a corkscrew, everything they have seen crammed tighter together after each new experience. Aaron's eyes are running off of a little fuel but all he cared was just to show one spark, his spark looked more like an inferno, reliving each punch with the current one. I wanted to look away but I couldn't, his gaze had more words than his lips, it was clear it wasn't the first time he'd been punched, I knew that I had seen it every time at school, but outside of school, he was small and easy to take advantage of, that's why his arm was being lined in bruise's that instant...

"Martin" he whispered hoarsely again, "Help"

Only he didn't sound like his eyes, his eyes were angry and bold now, while everything about him was helpless, cowering, and weak. Something changed in his face.

I forced my eyes away from his and tore past him to my locker, ignoring his stifled moans, which he had learned to take. I underheard the shouts and laughter, I turned my hearing completely off, until I could listen as my locker slammed shut and my squeaky shoes took me with them outside the door as I left the locker room with everybody in it. It was sick.

I only had one class to go until I could go home and I was beginning to feel uneasy, I knew my mother would be emailed about my detention but I didn't worry about that, I worried about the detention in the first place, I never had one, and I worried it would show up when colleges looked for me. Still thinking about that didn't satisfy me like the roots of my worries, it was Aaron, but why? He did snitch on us, and it wasn't my first time I'd passed him in a similar instance. But I felt bad this time, was it because he'd singled me out? The bell interrupted my train of thought before a teacher could, I swooped up my stuff and filed into the hallway among everybody else.

There was an exercise I did, ignoring everything else and simply thinking about the physical actions I was doing. I placed my left foot forward in front of my right, then I shifted bringing my right in front of my left. I walked, dodging backpacks and pods of squealing friends. I felt cold each time the outside door opened exposing the cold fall air, so I moved my feet faster. I looked up and saw my locker. I reached my hand up and put it on the dial to spin, to each digit. I got my stuff. Put on my coat. I closed my locker. I went outside in the cold fall air. My feet took me to my car. I shivered. I heard Aaron, I froze...

"Hey Martin!" he yelled from behind me. I pivoted and saw him standing behind me maybe ten feet or so.

"Look I'm sorry" I called, but as soon as he left my mouth he shook his head.

"You don't mean it, if you had meant it you would've done something" his mouth looked like it had been bleeding and his stance was slouching like the blow to his chest made it hard for him to breathe. He looked nothing like a snitch now he looked like an angry storm, who didn't speak but shouted, and didn't ask, demanded.

I didn't know what to tell him, his inferno poured from his face, and I saw that he didn't want to hear; he just wanted to speak for once.

"Don't tell me that's not true, my whole life I've been walked on, and lots of those times you've seen it, don't tell me that's not true" he paused waiting for words to reject "What hurts more than the bruises was that nobody gives a damn to stop it and it happens to be you who's triggered the final straw. Nobody ever gave a shit about me"

"That's not true" I finally said, he shook his head and began turning around and walking the other way. He even tried running but I caught up.

"Go away!" he shouted, "It's too late now" he shoved me backward so hard I feel from my feet. He told me to go, so I did. It was my first regret.