I'm Obviously A Girl. But none of you idiots have to know that...

Chapter 22: I'm Obviously A Girl. But none of you idiots have to know that...

“Sam, look out!”

Before I could even register what was going on, I felt a hard surface hit me across the face. I let out a yelp and teetered backwards, landing hard on my back. I awoke from my reverie all too soon, and when I felt my senses coming back to me, all I could feel was a searing pain in my face and back. “Ow,” I said, mustering up a small cough.

Everyone rushed over to me, Kale shoving his way towards the front on my gym glass, Alex right behind him. “Move out, move out,” Alex hissed to everyone as he pushed his way to the front.

“S-Sam!” Kale said, bending down to my level. He helped me up and I felt the air flow back into my lungs as I properly stood up straight, “Are you okay?” He asked, placing both his hands tentatively on my shoulders.

“I-I’m okay.” I muttered, my whole body aching.

“You’ve got to look out better. That ball could have impaled you,” Kale chuckled grimly, eyeing the soccer ball that very well could have hurt me badly.

I nodded, shaking off the pain. My gym teacher started to disperse the class back into their teams and sighed, coming over to me. “Sam, are you okay?” He asked, examining my face.

“I-I think so,” I fibbed. To be honest, the spot where the ball had hit me on my cheek was in so much pain that I winced when I talked.

“Might want to go get that checked out…” He muttered, twirling the bill of his hat, “Gray, you go show him where the nurse’s office is!” He instructed, pushing Alex next to me.

Alex sighed and somewhere deep in the eyes of Kale, I saw an even deeper hatred for Alex then usual. It scared me a bit. Alex nodded, “Got it, coach.” He said dully and grabbed my by the shoulder, pushing me towards the school, “C’mon, Sam, let’s go before another soccer ball whacks you in the face.”

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I sat down on the sterilized, white, flimsy paper that covered the seat I was on in the nurse’s office. The nurse was a short 5 foot tall woman with gingery curls that sprang up in every direction. She had big brown eyes framed by thickly rimmed copper colored glasses that looked like an old man would wear, which wouldn’t be too far off from the truth; she looked about 60 or 70 years old. She came into the room, her almost florescent white coat dragging on the ground because of how short she was. I heard Alex chuckle a little, but I ignored him.

“Hello, young man.” She said, holding out her weak looking hand, “I’m Mrs. Carter. Now what’s wrong?” She asked, inspecting me quietly through her big glasses.

“A ball whacked ‘em in the face,” Alex said before I got a chance to.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Mrs. Carter said, inspecting my cheek, “There’s some swelling, I can see…” She murmured, prodding my cheek with her finger, which hurt. A lot.

“Here, I’ll get you an ice pack.” She said, and then she set down a couple of manilla folders with Alex’s and my names on them. She turned to Alex and smiled sweetly, like an old woman would, “Excuse me, dear, would you help me out? The freezer’s a bit high up.” She said sheepishly.