“Leon, quit it. He’s clearly a dumbass and isn’t worth our time.” Jaylin squeezes my shoulder and I shove my hands back into my pockets. I could already tell that Raccoon Stripes was gonna be a pebble in my shoe.

  “Whatever.” I huff and trudge past the piece of shit that got in my way. Jaylin follows, shooting a glare at Raccoon Stripes while Ramish smirks knowingly. He knew that the pasty bastard would feel my wrath one way or another.

  “Leon Miller-Castillo.” Mrs. Killion’s voice slides through my head like a wire. I blink, realizing I’m already slouched in my seat, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. A soft, drawn out sound leaves my throat, a groan or maybe a huff. It’s hard to tell.

  “Here.” I call out, tucking some of my auburn hair behind my ear before looking at the notebook I was doodling in. It was mostly spirals like my pupils. The lesson droned out into white noise. I didn’t bother paying attention–as long as I got some poor sap to do my homework, it didn’t matter. Well, I didn’t care until Mrs. Pissant–Mrs. Killion, technically–said something about a group project and began listing off names.

  “Leon and Vaddish…” Her grating voice drags against my sanity and I roll my plum colored eyes.

  “Who the fuck is Vaddish…? What kind of bogus name is that?” I grumble under my breath, leaning back in my chair. Then I hear it–a stammered voice that sticks out like a thorn.

  “L-L-Leon…Right?” The voice crawls under my skin before I even look up.

  I lift my gaze to see that human stain that had dared to get in my fucking way in the morning. He was looking down at the ground, shifting from side to side. “Of course your name is Vaddish. Sit the fuck down, you’re doing all the work.” I look away from Raccoon Stripes and back towards my notebook, adding more spirals.

  My leg bounces up and down as I force myself not to remember the dream…the one with Vad in it and Jaylin’s bleeding corpse. I just met him—he doesn’t know me or Jaylin. I slam the palm of my hand onto the desk with a hard , startling Vad. Only a handful of the students glance back at me, shooting a pitied look at Vad. I bite my tongue, remembering the breathing exercise Jaylin taught me.

  Vad murmurs, “...I don’t really…understand this.” The worksheet has only his name, scratched in lead, all caps. I snatch the worksheet and stare at it then it hits me: I don’t understand a single thing on this paper. I can feel my face heat up and I can’t tell if it’s anger or embarrassment. The tears that threaten to fall sting my eyes and I glare at the piece of paper as if it tried to murder me.

  I shove the worksheet into Vad’s chest, feeling how cold he was–even through the paper. “I don’t give a shit. Figure it out, clusterfuck.” I try to keep my composure, but my voice cracks, which makes my face feel like it’s on fire. I don’t dare meet Vad’s gaze because I know he’s probably grinning–thinking this shit was funny. Just like everyone else. I turn away from him, putting my head down in my arms on the desk. It smells like cleaner wipes and tears. I breathe it in and don’t look up again, needing this class to be over already.

  Minutes tick by. A small sniffle escapes me. The tears never went away–they just piled up, heavy in my throat. I stand up abruptly, the chair scraping against the linoleum floor. My hair cascades into my face, giving me a shield to cover my tear-stained face.

  “Leon?” Vad says quietly as if he cared. But I know he doesn’t actually care. No one fucking cares.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Mind your fucking business, limp dick.” I snarl under my breath, storming out of the classroom. I make it to the bathroom and slam the stall door. It locks with a sharp click. Then I stop thinking. The wall looks like a perfect punching bag, the crude graffiti mocking me. My arm moves before I can stop it. My fist slams into the wall—again, and again—until the sting of split skin finally forces me to stop.

  The pounding of my heart drowns everything else out, each inhale coming shaky and wrong. A choked sob escapes from my throat, then a second one follows it. Before I know it, I’m sobbing. No matter how many times I wipe my tears away, they don’t stop. My bruises throb, Bruce’s face flashes through my mind—how he “honored” me with those painfully purple and green spots. It hurts just as much as that dream.

  “I can’t do this…I can’t do this anymore.” My voice comes out unsteady and higher than usual, each word torn out between gasps. I collapse to my knees and my vision tunnels, hands intertwining with the roots of my hair and grasping tightly. “I…I can’t…I can’t breathe.” Usually Jaylin would be here to help me, but she’s not.

  I don’t know how long I stay like this. Long enough for my breathing to lose its edge. Long enough for the room to stop spinning. When I finally stand, my legs feel like they might give up again. I have to press a hand to the cold wall, steadying myself, and wipe my face with the back of my sleeve. My throat feels tight, swollen. I swallow, trying to force the feeling down. My eyes burn, but I don’t let them start again. I can’t afford that.

  I think I unlock the stall door–hard to tell. All I heard was the click. Then I see him. I never even heard anyone come in—how could I? “Why… How long were you standing there?” I ask, my voice finally steady—or as steady as it can be.

  “Long enough.” Vad tucks some of his artificially pink hair behind his ear. He isn’t smiling. No—he looks almost sympathetic. Something in me snaps. I invade his space, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and slamming him back against the tiled wall.

  “Fuck you.” I hiss. “Fuck you and your stupid sympathy.”

  “Don’t fight it.”

  He reaches out, cupping my cheek. For half a second, I almost lean into it. His hand is cold, wrong. I let go of his shirt and backhand him. His glasses clatter to the floor. I grab his bangs, forcing him to look at me. His expression doesn’t change. Not even then.

  “You’re beneath me.” I snap, shoving his head back against the wall. “If you ever try some shit like that again, I won’t hesitate to ruin your fucking life.” I let go of his hair, stepping back. “And if you mention to anyone what you heard…” I don’t finish the sentence, letting him fill in the blanks.

  “You’re damaged,” Vad says calmly, as if he’s describing the weather. “So you damage others.” He crouches to retrieve his glasses—long limbs, all skin and bone. He slips them back onto his face without looking at me. Just the sight of him makes the hair on my neck stand up.

  “Sh-Shut the fuck up.” I stammer, stepping back again. “You don’t know me. And you never will.” I snap.

  “Hm. Look at who’s stuttering now.” His lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile. As if he doesn’t know how to do that. “I’ll get that worksheet done tonight,” he adds. “I’ll turn it in tomorrow.” He turns and walks out of the bathroom without a backward glance.

  I stare at the space he left behind, unsure of what just happened—or why it felt like I lost a battle I didn’t even know I was fighting.