Pain

It Can Always Get Worse

Logan

"Okay," Dad starts when he stops the car. "I'm coming home very late today. That means that you prepare yourself something to eat, then you clean the kitchen, do your homework and then I don't care what you do. Understand?"

"Yes, Dad," Kiara and I answer in unison.

"Good. Now get out of here."

Without saying another word, we get out of the car. We walk silently side by side until we have reached our usual splitting point.

"How do you get home if Dad doesn't pick you up?" I ask, concerned.

"Katie's mom can take me home."

"OK."

For a moment, she looks at me with concern and touches my cheek. "Try not to do anything stupid today."

I nod in silence.

"I'll see you at home."

I watch her with mixed feelings. She's the only reason I'm still alive. She gives my life meaning. I'm also slowly starting to go to school. I don't have to look at the watch to know I'm going to be late. But I don't give a shit about it.

I open the classroom door and, as expected, everyone stares at me. Man, I hate these people.

"Logan, you're late again." Miss Collins looks at me sternly. I shrug. She sighs and I can see her writing something into the class register. "Sit down, Logan."

I go to my seat. Sitting next to me are Kendall Knight, Carlos Garcia, and James Diamond. These three are the only ones I can call "friends". James is pretty arrogant at times. And he's a player. Tries to hit on every girl he meets and get them into bed. But despite everything, he's okay. Carlos is more of a follower. He's James's best friend, although Carlos is very different from him. Okay, they're doing a lot of nonsense together. But Carlos is neither arrogant nor a player. He's nice ... and sometimes a bit naive. And then there's Kendall. With him I would even go so far as to say that he is my "best friend". We are not very close, although our sisters are best friends. But you can just rely on Kendall. In fact, he has helped me in a few tricky situations. If you need help, he helps. He really lives up to his name. These three guys, unlike the rest of the class, accepted me when I came here last year. And not for the first time I ask myself: why?

I sit down next to Kendall and hope that Miss Collins just continues with her talk. But …

"Logan, you know the rules. Take off your sunglasses."

What did I say? Stupid school rules. I slowly take off my sunglasses and mentally prepare for what will happen in three seconds. As soon as everyone has a look at my black eye, the murmur starts. Miss Collins looks at me with a strange expression on her face, then she slowly says, "Logan ... I would like to talk to you for a moment."

Great, that's really the last thing I can use now. I follow her out into the hallway. She closes the door and looks at me with concern. "Logan, you can be honest with me. Is everyhing … okay at home?"

I expected it. It's the most dangerous question she can ever ask me. "Of course," I reply, trying to sound irritable and annoyed. I don't succeed. With the other teachers, I have no problem being disrespectful. Not even with our director. But Miss Collins isn't a normal teacher. She not only takes care of her students' school problems, but also private problems - if you have any. She wants to help me, but she doesn't know that her help could destroy my life for good. I cannot take this risk. "Listen, Miss Collins. If you have a problem with my school performance, you can talk to me about it. But, with all due respect, everything else is none of your business. And I would be very grateful if you would leave me alone with this topic in the future. Everyhing is all right."

Before she can reply, I go back to class. Miss Collins also comes in and directs the word back to us students, "Okay, listen: the school year ends in a few weeks. I thought that we will not write an exam for the final grade. Instead, you will be working on different projects."

Some raise their heads with interest.

"You will form groups of two and work on a project of your choice for the next few weeks. Afterwards you will present your results to the class. This project replaces the exam, so you should work hard on it."

Now there is an excited mood in the class. For me it looks different. As if I had nothing better to do than waste my time on such a shitty project. Well, maybe I can work with Kendall. He isn't a nerd, but his grade point average is fine. Besides, the whole thing would be much more bearable. But Miss Collins's next words destroy my hopes, "And to make the whole thing a little more interesting, we make mixed groups. One girl and one boy. And so that nobody complains afterwards, we will draw the names."

I groan inwardly. Before Miss Collins can go on, a malicious voice says, "I'm already sorry for whoever gets Logan." The voice comes from Jett Stetson. The biggest idiot in the whole school. Three girls giggle at his words. I don't know what a crazy coincidence this is, but these three are all called Jennifer. They are the divas at school. But at least the blonde of them should be quiet. Because I got her laid more than once and it didn't look like she regretted it. I don't respond to Jett's words, but James turns to him. "Shut up, Stetson!"

As I said, James is okay. For a moment, it looks like Jett is about to start a fight, but then he's silent. Miss Collins begins to draw the names. Meanwhile my thoughts wander. I wonder what Dad will say when he learns that I have to work with a girl. I almost feel sick again at this thought.

"Logan ..." Miss Collins's voice brings me back to reality. Because I haven't listened, I have no idea which girl is left.

"And ... Camille."

Exceptionally, all heads don't turn to me, but to Camille Roberts, who sits in the front row with her friends Jo Taylor, Stephanie King, and Lucy Stone. Our eyes meet for a moment. Then Stephanie leans forward to whisper something in her ear and she turns away. I look at Kendall, Carlos, and James, who return my gaze with a kind of amused pity. Miss Collins begins to explain the rules for the projects. I bury my head in my hands. Camille Roberts ... Could this day get any worse?