You hate high school. No, not because of the mountain of homework you're assigned every week, (though that doesn't help the situation) or that you don't like your teachers.
No. It's the jerks that pick your face out of the crowd, and trip you up. You've tried ignoring them, but since when has that ever worked? You've tried telling the teachers, but they can't do anything about it. Nothing else you've tried works. They just keep pounding you, using you as their personal punching bag.
So you fight back.
"Hey, (name)! I sure hope you don't get confused for a guy again. " a guy says loudly to his friends and they snicker.
You give them a cool look. "Oh, look. It's the idiot with the big mouth and his posse." Your voice is calm, but your hands curl into fists inside your hoodie pocket. "I hope you don't get mistaken for an ignorant fool, again. Oh wait." your eyes widen in mock surprise. "You are an ignorant fool."
He glances at his friends, a half grin covering his stupid face. "I bet the new guy won't be able to tell you're a girl."
You cross your arms over your chest. "I bet the new guy won't be able to tell you're a guy." you mimic in a ridiculously high voice.
"That the best you got?"
You smile, a dark purple aura surrounding you. "No, would you like to find out?"
His grin disappears, and he takes a half step backwards. "Whoa, I was just fooling around."
You grin at his choice of words. "Exactly my point."
Suddenly, you're grateful that Ivan taught you how to do that. Before he can retort, you spin on your heel and walk down the hallway, pushing your way through the sea of teenagers.
As you pass, someone sticks out their foot and you trip, landing hard on your arm.
"Hey! Watch it you moron!" you yell angrily.
You look up, and kids are laughing and snickering at you as they pass. When you sit up, you gasp and tears spring to your eyes. Pain shoots along your arm, down to your wrist. You struggle to get to your feet, pressing your hurt arm to your chest, using your good arm to push yourself up.
You stand and start running towards the nurse's office. Please don't be broken. Please don't be broken. Please don'- Your silent plea is interrupted when you slam into someone, sending you both to the ground. You let out a cry of pain as your hurt arm hits the ground, and scramble to your feet, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay.
You look at the person you slammed into and your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. "L-Ludwig?" You stare at him, your former best friend.
His blue eyes snap up to your face and widen. "(Name)?!? Vhat are you doing here?"
"Well at the moment I'm hoping that my arm isn't broken." you say, holding your arm with your good hand.
He's bigger than when you last saw him, and really cute. 'Ahh! Don't think about him like that!' you think, instantly embarrassed, but you don't let it show.
He looks down at you in disbelief for a second, then holds out his big hand. "Let me see."
You scowl, and turn sideways, holding your wrist away from him. "Why?"
He narrows his eyes at you and you hold it for a minute, aggravated that you have to look up so much.
"(Name), I need to see your arm." he says firmly, his accent slightly exaggerated.
"You left me, why should I trust you?" you hiss, taking a step back.
He sighs, and runs a gloved hand through his blonde hair. "(Name), you know vhy I had to go."
"But you said you would come back in time for Christmas!" you shout, tears threatening to spill over, from both the pain in your arm and the hurt of seeing your friend after so long. "That was two years ago, Ludwig! You promised me!"
He stares at you for a minute and you try not to cry. "You were my best friend, Ludwig. You left me when I needed you most."
He gently takes your arm and takes off one of his black gloves, rolling up your the sleeve. His long fingers skims over your arm, back and forth along the jagged line of pain.
You watch him as he inspects you, studying his strong features. Now that you think about it, the two are like night and day. You're creative and messy and usually wing it when you don't know what to do, and he's neat and organized and uptight. But that's what attracted you, and soon you became best friends. Now you can't help but want more, and you feel silly and girly for wanting him so much.
"It is broken." he says, straightening and looking you in the eye.
You look away. Tears finally spill over and down your cheeks.
He hooks a finger beneath your chin, his thumb pressing it, and turns your face up to his. "Vhy do you yell at me, (name)?"
"You wouldn't understand." you mutter and push him away with your good arm, turning your back on him.
"Vhy not?!?" he asks angrily, and you know his temper is rising to match yours.
You whirl around, angry tears streaming down your face. "Because I love you!" you explode and run.
"(Name)! (Name), wait!"
You ignore him and run hard and fast, out to the football field and you slid under the bleachers, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Stop crying like a baby, (name)! you think fiercely, but the tears won't stop coming.
"(Name)!" you hear Ludwig shout, and you pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arm around them, and resting your mouth against it, cutting off your noise.
"(Name) Come out!"
You see Ludwig's boots and you scoot back farther, without making a sound. He stops right in front of you, and you hold your breath.
You blink. 'What?'
You sigh and crawl out, trying not to hurt your arm anymore than it already is.
"You didn't have to run." he says when you sit next to him.
"I'm sorry." you mumble under your breath, your face flushed. "What was I supposed to do?"
You turn your head to ask him what the heck that means, but he holds your face in his hands and kisses you hard on the mouth.
You feel your face turn red, but he doesn't pull back.
Finally he lets go and you're both panting.
"I really like you." he says softly.
You grin. "Ludwig has feelings."
He smiles. "Only for you, liebe."