Jordan and I didn’t talk much on the way to the nurse’s office, mostly due to my aching skull. I didn’t miss, however, the concerned glances he kept throwing my way.
I considered telling him to stop looking at me like a wounded animal, but refrained when I realized it would only worsen my headache.
“How long?” He finally broke the silence.
“What?” I asked confusedly, turning my head to see him already looking at me.
“How long have they bullied you?”
I felt my stomach sink and looked away. It was a touchy subject, really, and it wasn’t something I wanted to share with a complete stranger.
Jordan waited patiently for an answer, but instead of giving him one, I simply hardened my resolve and muttered, “Why do you care?”
It was his turn to look away, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching his conflicted expression as he stared at the beige floor tiles a few feet ahead of us.
Just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he spoke.
“I don’t like bullies.”
I frowned slightly at him but said nothing. Maybe he wouldn’t turn out like the others. Maybe he’d be okay.
When the silence stretched on for a bit too long, Jordan changed the subject.
“So, you’re Elliot Goldman, right?” He asked.
I nearly nodded, but thought better of it and verbalized my answer, “Yep.”
“Looks like we’re lab partners, then,” he said with a far too cheery grin.
I couldn’t help but notice he had pretty straight teeth. And pretty white teeth at that. That was true sorcery, right there. I wore a retainer for three years and I still had a crooked tooth behind my top right canine. It drove me nuts.
“Yep,” I said as I spotted the nurse’s office up ahead.
I stopped and turned to face him, “Well, I think I can make it from here. You better head back to class so you can change before the bell rings.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked back down the hallway we’d come down. “See you in Chemistry, then.”
“Yeah,” I said as I opened up the door to the nurse’s office. “See you.”
As soon as the door closed behind me, I heard the nurse sigh and mutter, “Again?”
“Sorry, Ms. Cadbury,” I muttered back.
After explaining what happened, Ms. Cadbury sat me down and asked me to do a series of concussion tests. Not finding anything too serious, she gave me some painkillers and told me I’d feel better by tomorrow.
“Thanks,” I muttered again before making my way back to the boys’ locker room. Luckily, the bell had already rung, so I didn’t have to worry about anyone else bothering me.
Getting back to locker room, I felt my stomach sink again as I found my papers scattered around the room. I knelt down and started to pick them up one by one. By the time I reached my locker, my despair had sunk even lower. There, on the floor, sitting in a sopping heap of what I could only hope was water, were my clothes.
Guess who got to spend the rest of the day smelling like a sweaty pig? That’s right. This guy.
Not to mention the autumn weather was setting in, which meant I was in for a brisk walk home after school.
Sighing, I cleaned up as best as I could and headed off to my next class.
×××
English Literature flew by quickly, especially with the time I spent in the nurse’s office. Before I knew it, I was packing up and heading to Chemistry.
When I walked into class, I immediately knew something was up. Everyone was lining up against the back wall, and as I moved to stand beside them, I stared longingly at my abandoned lab seat.
“Alright class,” the teacher announced. “Today, we are changing the seating to accommodate your new lab partners. Please wait patiently until I call out your names.”
I zoned out as the teacher started directing students to their seats. It was only when my name was called that I snapped to attention and walked to where the teacher directed me.
Jordan plopped into the seat next to me and took out his textbook.
I saw him glance over my outfit briefly before sympathy clouded his eyes. He said nothing, though, and for that, I was grateful.
Ms. Dailey soon moved to the front of the classroom again and began her lecture on standard deviation and percent relative standard deviation. I buried myself in my notes, doing my best to ignore the concerned glances from the boy beside me.
“How’s your head?” He whispered quietly to me.
“Fine,” I muttered as I took down notes on summation. I could tell he was waiting for a better answer, so with a sigh, I glanced up and said, “She said I’ll be back to normal in a day or two.”
Apparently satisfied by that answer, Jordan nodded and returned to his own notes.
Noticing the tinge of darkness to the room, I glanced out the window to see a blanket of dark clouds looming low in the sky. I sighed, already resigning myself to walking home in the rain.
Great.
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