Supernovas & Escapism

Chapter Four

      By the time I'd properly come to my senses, I realized that maybe I'd crossed a line. Maybe instead of actually helping I'd become a hindrance to everyone involved. What more could have been solved by me throwing my weight about for the sake of wanting a fight.

     Of course the fight had finally ended. Not so much with a bang, but rather with a whimper.

     Miss Dreyfus, my sociology teacher had stepped out at some point. Really, I didn't know how long I'd been fighting for when she came along. It could have been anywhere between a few seconds to a few hours. The fact that the sky had not darkened completely yet seemed to say to me that maybe it hadn't been to long.

     It was apparently enough time for me to give Luis Hernandez a bloody nose, and for Owen Guerrero to be aching on the floor, howling in pain. The third member of their trifecta of douche behavior had bolted the instant things turned south. I could feel my hands pulsating, raw with the energy and the anger that flowed through them. I knew if I looked down, I would find that my own hands were bloody, bruised, and red as all hell. There was a part of me that seemed positive that I'd taken more than a few hits to the head.

     Nothing really came back at first. The truth was that one moment I was walking home, and the next I was seated in a chair, with the smaller boy sitting across from me. Luis and Owen sat at the other end of the hallway, probably cursing me out. Focus was hard to maintain right now. I sat for a few more moments, honestly feeling a little bit numb to the whole thing.

     Always be kind.

     They were simple words, and I couldn't even follow through with them. My head bowed in the shame that soon came rushing in like waves. I'd let her down. All she wanted was the best for me, and I couldn't keep it in. I couldn't contain the fire in me that wanted to leak out; to burst out and lash out at everything that stood in my way.

     "You're an idiot you know." The voice was low and drowned out by the hint of insecurity. It took a moment for me to realize that it had come from the boy sitting in front of me. Hair seemed to cover most of his face, making it almost impossible to see his face. Of course this was hardly helped by the way he had his face turned down against the world. Everything about his body pointed to the ground, never daring to lift itself an inch higher.

     "You should have just stayed out of it," he spoke again, this time a little more stern. It took a moment for him to come off as anything other than soft-spoken. "I could have handled them myself."

     His short stature seemed to slink further into his chair. Arms clasped together as his head precariously balanced on top. Despite this, his eyes seemed more interested in the linoleum beneath out feet.

     Folding my arms across my chest, I flooded into the back of my own seat. Unlike him, I wore these cuts and bruises like a badge of honor. Regardless of how my mother would see this, it was the best thing I could do now. What point was there in life when you started to regret the things that you couldn't take back. All you could do was roll with the punches and hope that it didn't happen again.

     I think the worst part about this kid though was how he had so much venom behind his words in spite of what I just did. He acted like I'd just done him some great disservice.