Learning to Live

Chapter 7

The following Monday, Tom came to school with a bandage on his nose.

I felt incredibly smug about it. I had put my heart into that punch.

Though I'd been regretting my decision to punch him during the weekend; my knuckles were the size of walnuts, my right hand was pretty much useless. Seeing the bandage on his nose made it totally worth it.

Lia had stayed the weekend with me. We stayed holed up in my room on Saturday. Then on Sunday, I made her take a shower and we took a long walk around town. She was no longer crying, at least not as much, but the bright lights in her eyes was dimmed by a brokenness I hated.

"You punched him, didn't you?" Liza asked as soon as I sat down behind her. I must look like a thug, with the remainder of my black eye and my swollen knuckles.

"Yep, she did," Jason was happy to tell her. He sat next to me in History class.

"He totally deserved it." Liza grinned. "Half the girls in school have a crush on you, the other half wish they could punch him again in the nose. So don't feel bad about it."

"Oh, I'm not." I laughed. "I just wish we could move on."

I wanted Lia to moved on. It wasn't going to happen fast enough if all the school talked about was her and Tom.

"Yeah, unless someone screwed a teacher or Principal Dawson's wig fell off in the hallway, that's not going to happen anytime soon," Jason said. "It's prime gossip"

I sighed. I expected as much. Jason and Liza spoke, which mostly consisted of them flirting. Liza was shy around guys. But she was opening up more around Jason, fortunately for him.

I pulled out my notebook and a small bag of salted peanuts. The class fell uncharacteristically quiet. I glanced up.

Hunter walked in like he belonged. He looked around.

I waved and pointed to the empty seat next to Jason. His long legs ate up the distance and he sat down, almost lounging in the chair. I leaned forward to look at him past Jason. "Do you even have this class?"

Liza looked at me with wide eyes. Hunter nodded. So chatty. The teacher came in and we stopped our fruitful one way conversation.

I made Jason take notes. In the middle of class, Mr. White looked at me. "Miss Milton, you're not taking notes. That's unusual."

I held up my right hand. My knuckles were red and swollen. "It hurts to write," I said. "But Jason is taking them."

Mr. White's bushy eyebrows raised. "That's even more unusual."

Jason groaned next to me. Laughter rang out in the classroom.

Mr. White adjusted his glassed. "Is your hand alright?"

"She punched a guy!" One of the boys said. I gave him a look. He winked at me.

Mr. White eyebrows hiked further up. "Ah, I see. Since you're not arrested or worse, suspended, I assume he deserved it. Moving on. The group project I told you about last session-"

The class groaned in unison.

"Yes, I know you're all very excited," Mr. White said, lowering himself on the desk. "But I'm going to need groups and project titles by the end of class. I'm sure you're all adults who can figure things out on your own. Groups of two, no more."

A hand went up in front. "The number of students isn't even."

"Then one group of three. No more."

Heads swiveled around.