Thankfully French didn't end too badly for me. Most of that class is oral, so I had a better grade than some of my other classes.

My next class, I wasn't too worried about. Music always came pretty easy for me.

The class mostly consisted of a teacher teaching kids how to read notes, giving out songs to master, and sometimes making us perform our songs. Also, the class has an end of the year performance that every kid in the different periods compete to play in.

One kid per period gets to enter into the performance, which is really just a competition. The kid who gets the most votes from the judges and the audience gets this prize. It's different every year, and most of the time, it's a dumb five-dollar gift card, but if you win, you technically get to call yourself the best high schooler musician at school. So I guess bragging rights are worth embarrassing yourself.

But not me. You wouldn't catch me dead on stage, much less a competition for something as petty as bragging rights.

The whole every-student-at-each-other's-throats thing isn't for another month or so. But once it starts, being in Music class becomes a massive game of Who Can Bully This Person Better?

Thankfully I can normally find an excuse not to play during that time of year. Saying the string on the guitar broke, or the piano isn't tuned. Things that can be fixed easily but waste enough of their time that they move on.

The whole bullying thing only lasts for a day or two, though. Then everyone is done testing the other students' will and goes into mad practice of whatever song they decided for their audition.

Recently we've been given a different instrument to try out. We have to learn the basics before the Every Student For Themselves catastrophe. In my free time, I tend to play many instruments, like when I'm avoiding Gabe. I know he'll hit me harder, but some days it brings peace into my life when I play a song.

I've mastered a whole lot, including the guitar, piano, and violin. But the teacher assigned me the drums. I guess I never really thought of playing them because I enjoy music that brings a peaceful feeling. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure drums can give you a peaceful feeling, but they're mostly used for high-energy concerts and music.

Anyway, I picked up the drums pretty fast and can do most of the basics. Today the teacher was out handing sheets of music out. I calmly accepted mine and looked over the title. Your Gonna Go Far Kid by The Offspring. Looking over the music, I can see it's a high beat and high energy song. Also, the little genre in the top right corner that says Alternative Rock helps with my assumption. I sigh; maybe I'll enjoy this, get some energy in me. I close my eyes and open them. Setting the music on the stand, I ready my drumsticks.

Going slow, I read through the music and try to get down the little techniques I need to do while playing. The tempo is fast, so I'll need to be quick when switching drums. Presently I was sitting at the full set of drums. Those you see at rock concerts? Yea, I was in complete control of one.

I took a deep breath and shakily let it out as I felt pain race through my abdomen. Closing my eyes, I saw the music and hummed the tune quietly. Then lifting my drumsticks, I slowly restarted the song in my head. I played slowly, hearing how it was on the page in my head as my hands glided across the drumset.

I went over the song numerous times, still with my eyes shut, not daring to open them and look around the classroom. I didn't want to be distracted from what I was doing.

A tap on my left shoulder made me flinch back, so I dropped my drumsticks and almost fell out of the chair. My eyes shot open to see my teacher, Mrs. Fin smiling at me.

"Sorry for scaring you, but the bell just rang. I don't think you heard it."

"Oh, sorry about that," I mumbled out and rushed to grab my music. Mrs.Fin waved at me as I left, sprinting through the hallways to my locker. I shoved my music sheets in and ran to the gym.

Seeing half of the boys still in the changing rooms, I quickly grabbed my PE clothes from my locker and ran into a stall. Locking the door quickly changed out of my regular clothes and slipped on a black skin-tight long sleeve under my PE shirt. Then I threw on a pair of black sweatpants and walked out of the stall. I hurriedly locked my clothes back into my locker and ran out into the gym.

Seeing that the teacher isn't here yet, I sighed in relief. I looked around and went to sit on the seats in the gym. We've recently been doing physical fitness because the state says we have to finish a set of workouts in a specific time to be considered a pass in PE.

But today, it looked like the coach had different plans. Which is never good; he had that evil glint in his eye that made you want to rethink coming to class.

"Alright, listen up! We're going to be playing dodgeball!"

As the coach listed off the rules, I couldn't help but think how fucking cliche this guy was. I understand that watching a bunch of teenagers throw balls at each other is fun, but can I spectate instead of play?

I already had enough problems, I don't need to be hit with a ball, and my gut wound opened up again. I could fake injury, but seeing that the coach was already assigning teams, it would look cowardly if I stepped out now.

I took a deep breath and tried to recount my injuries—two bumps in my left shoulder, probably pushing the smaller glass pieces deeper into my skin. Clotheslined knocked the wind out of me. Slammed into a locker, more pain to my left shoulder and the reopening of my major wound. Tripped in History, which gave me a concussion? I'm not sure, but my brain didn't work for a while. But besides all that, what's one more injury that gets reopened.

I sighed to myself as I shifted to the right with my team. I'll just be one of the first guys hit out, and I'll try to place it on my arm or something, that way, it won't hurt nearly as much.

We stood ready at the court. I stood in the middle near the front, close enough to be a target but far enough away that it wouldn't hurt as bad. The teacher blew his whistle, and all Hades broke loose.

Kids from both sides surged forward. I stayed where I was, being pushed aside when I was in the way, which caused wincing. But thankfully, no one noticed because of the yelling and squeaking of sneakers.

As balls were thrown from both sides. Kids started walking off the court, heads low in defeat. I saw an incoming ball, I positioned myself for the hit, but it never came. It stopped right in front of me. I kicked it softly to the side, and another kid snatched it up and threw it. The two teams were constantly moving, besides me, of course.

I'm surprised no one has even lobbed a ball at my head yet.

I spoke too soon. I always speak too gods damned soon.

A ball came flying at me and hit me right in the ribs. I bit my lip to stop a cry of pain. I walked off the court, happy to be off but scared my wound opened again. I touched my wound and felt nothing. I gave a sigh of relief. The game ended, but I didn't notice who won or lost, it wasn't important. What was important was stealing a stall and getting out of the locker room before a vast majority of the classes came in.

Once we were dismissed, I ran into the locker room, fumbling with my lock as I opened up the small metal box. Taking out my clothes, I rushed to the restroom. Locking it behind me, I quickly changed out of my clothes. I stopped when I saw my bandages with a small red spot. My heart leaped into my throat. It reopened.

Throwing on my jeans, a blue t-shirt, and black hoodie, I stuffed my gym clothes into my locker and ran to the nurse's office. I silently looked through the windows. PE always lets you off around ten minutes early to give you time to change.

The nurse was nowhere to be seen. I quickly entered the office and looked through the cupboards. Grabbing a little gauze and a lot of bandages. Stuffing the supplies in my hoodie, I checked to see if the coast was clear and ran out.

Continuing the run to my locker, I stuffed half of the supplies into my first aid kit and kept the rest. Remembering the meeting with my math tutor, I walked calmly towards my first-period class. I sat on the floor near the door and waited for the end-of-school bell to ring.

A few minutes passed, and nothing happened. I checked my phone after another few minutes or so. I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. Laying my head down, I closed my eyes.