Uh...France?{Jeffmads}

Inhaler Boy

one

James Madison sighed as he watched the other kids pass the ball to each other and drop it into the hoops, the hall filling with a mix of cheering and exaggerated groans.
Another moment of jealously observing before he returned his attention back to the book in his hands, trying to ignore the noise made by the rest of his PE class.

James was rarely well enough to participate and when he was, his asthma held him back. He hated it.
If he were in appropriate health, he would have loved his Phys Ed (PE/Physical Education) classes, but he wasn't, so he didn't.
Every lesson, he sat out, usually reading, and watched his classmates actively enjoy themselves.

James sighed again and placed his book mark, dropping the book back into his bag and watching the class's basketball game play out. James looked away to the doors of the hall, which were now opened to reveal a boy James recognized from his PE class but had never spoken to.
The boy set his bag by the doors, handed a note to the supervising teacher and seemingly a conversation began. The boy gestured to his arm, the teacher nodded and pointed to stands where James sat alone.

The boy began his trip to the stands, avoiding looking at James, he didn't know why.
He had frizzy brown hair, a purple hoodie and jeans that had definitely seen better days.

"Hey." Was all he said when he sat near James, smiling at him quickly then looking to the game.

"Hi." James responded quietly, looking at his hands folded in his lap.

"Why are you always sitting out?" The boy asked, turning to James.

"I'm too sick for sports." He answered, a little puzzled as to how the boy didn't know; they were in the same sports class and he sat out on both every week.
Everyone in his PE class knew who he was and that he was too sick, inhaler boy is what they called him.

 The boy nodded then rolled up his left sleeve to reveal a cast.

"I dislocated my wrist."

"Oh." James bit his lip and paused for a moment.
"I'm James."

"Thomas." The boy answered.

James nodded.
"How did you..." James started, pointing to Thomas's fractured wrist, Thomas smiled a little to himself.

"Fighting ninjas." He said, James chuckled a little at the ridiculous response.

"C'mon, what'd you actually do?"

"Tried to jump a fence." Thomas revealed.

"Oh."

"You don't talk much." Noted Thomas, turning to face James and crossing his legs.
James shrugged a little.
"Wanna hang with me at lunch?"

Having just met the boy, a small part of James wanted to say no.
But he had no one else to sit with, every lunch he was alone at the swings or cooped up in the library if it was a wet day.
No one wanted to hang out with a boy who was sick so often, someone they called inhaler boy.

"I guess..." He shrugged again without looking back at Thomas.
Thomas responded by smiling only, then the two waited for class to end.

"Finally." Thomas said plainly when the bell rung and they were dismissed for lunch.
The two waited for the hall to empty before leaving, not wanting to be a part of the crowd.
Thomas picked up his bag as they went through the doors, slinging it over one shoulder and hiding his hands in the pockets of his jumper.
He walked beside James, neither of them speaking.

The play ground was full of life, kids enjoying their lunch break while it lasted. Thomas set his bag down at the side of the path and rummaged in it.

"You gotta be able to play handball at least." He said, pulling out a purple ball and tossing it to James.

"Uh- yeah." James almost dropped the ball but managed not to. He stepped back so a defined crack in the pavement marked their courts and bounced the handball into Thomas's.

And that was that.
They two played handball and talked while they did. Thomas did most of the talking.

~
So sorry about how short this is I promise I'll write longer chapters!
And, in 1786, Thomas dislocated his wrist when trying to jump a fence in Paris.
I know what I'm doing here.