Freedom Fighters

How to Play Nice.

A/N
Her tattoo is to the side or above. Depending on what you read on.

I’m sitting in my junior history class, exactly one semester into my junior year. At this time last year I was normal. I was easy going and had a close group of a few friends. The most complicated thing in my life was attempting to level up in Summoner’s War.

I was sitting exactly where I was sitting a year ago. Exactly one year since Jay became one out of two of the only allies I have. The only individual outside of Verne, my tech teacher, that I could rely on. No one else had my trust. My friends have all left me but it's easier that way. I'm not good at lying to people I care about; even if they want nothing to do with me anymore.

History class this year is pretty boring. Two of my old friends are in it with me. Every now and then they give me a worried glance but never say anything. Maybe they're intimidated. I used to be fat and unable to stick up for myself. Now I could easily take the entire class down without breathing heavily.

Mr. Nigel is teaching us about ancient pagan societies, which I already know about. So instead of paying attention to the lesson I doodle on my notebook half way listening. When the bell rings and I shove my notebook into my bag and head for lunch. Lunch was my favorite, I got food and free time. I could finally finish the final chapter of my book, although it would be a smart idea for me to finish my math homework.

"Hey Alice," Monica, one of my friends from last year walks up to me.

"Hello Monica," I smiled, only this one was a fake one. People were easily fooled when you smiled. "Can I help you?" I asked sweetly trying my best at communication.

"Actually I was wonder in if I could see your tattoo." She said in a hushed tone, like the work tattoo was a poison.

"Uh," I hesitated, "how did you know about my tattoo?" I slightly tilted my head to the left showing a sign of curiosity. 

"Everyone knows you have one. I would have never thought you out of all the people would have gotten a tattoo." That was a little off. I had always wanted one but I was too self conscious to tell anyone that I wanted one.

In this situation I could do one of two things. I could either say no and walk away or I could simply show her my stomach, even though people who pass by would surely assume I was flashing her. In the end I decided that showing her would be a smart option, there would be no hidden consequences to showing her.

"Okay," I finally whispered to her before pulling the hem if my shirt up just below my breast, exposing a black tree traveling up my side with pink and red flowers dotting the branches. The tattoo was drawn from my lower left hip bone to my right side. I loved it.

"Nice," was all she said before she snapped a picture with her phone and walked away.

I stared after her, dumbstruck. What just happened. I thought before I turned around and rounded the corner to the staircases. One leading up, one leading down. 

However, I didn't get a chance to think about Monica because a second after I turn the corner I was pushed to the ground by a giant wall of flesh. 
Crap. I thought, looking up at the guy staring down at me with his hand out, offering to help me up.