Nancy

As always, the teacher makes us warm up with a game of dodgeball. Also as always, I'm the last one to be picked by one of the two teams. I'm used to it by now, but it still makes me feel self-conscious. Or maybe it's the fact that Alex is wearing shorts. I can't help but stare a little. She looks amazing - she always does. Then the game starts, and I can't stare anymore because there's a ball flying and people running, and I remember I have to run, too. I don't understand half of what's going on. I'm in everyone's way.

I feel like dough being beaten by dozens of whisks.

"Go on, Alex! Knock the four-eyed nerd!" I hear from a corner of the field, not fully understanding what those words mean until something hard hits my face. I hear bursting of laughter and a cry as I fall on the ground, then thousands of feet running in my head. I don't think I make a single sound. I'm too stunned to even try to sit up. I just lay on the ground, waiting for something to happen.

I think I can hear the teacher yelling. Snickers. Laughs. Steps. Bouncing of a ball. Talking.

A hand on my shoulder.

A worried voice.

"Hey, are you okay? You're conscious, aren't you? Shit, I'm so sorry, I wasn't aiming for your head, I swear! Can you speak?"

Blue eyes. Blond hair. Tanned skin.

Alex.

I try to sit up but the pain makes me wince. I feel an arm around my back. I look at Alex as she apologizes again. I can't find my voice. The world's reeling. I focus on the arm now wrapped around my shoulder, on the faint scent of vanilla exuding from her, and I try to speak.

"I... I'm okay... I think."

Alex sighs and I feel her breath on my cheek. She sounds relieved. "Fuck, thank god, I thought I'd hit you so hard you couldn't speak." She searches for my gaze and when she finds it, she holds it. Her eyes are so much bluer up close. Greyish blue. Like a storm. "Are you really okay?"

No. No, I'm not. You're way too close.

"My head feels like a... a bell, but otherwise I think I'm okay." I say instead, looking down at my hands because I can't stand being so close to her. They're scratched, but nothing bad.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I swear I didn't want that to happen. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Before I can answer, the teacher kneels in front of me and asks if I can get up. His face is a blur. I lift my hand to my temple, but the frame of my glasses isn't where it should be.

"Here", Alex says, and she's handing me a pair of broken glasses. I take them without a word. "I'm really sorry. I'll pay you back."

I shake my head to make her understand she doesn't have to. Of course, the gesture feels like a hammer trying to break my skull from inside, and all that crosses my lips is a whimper.

"I don't think she can stand, sir", Alex says. "Do you want me to take her to the nurse's office?"

I want to say I'm fine, but I'm not. Besides, I don't think talking is a good idea right now.

I don't understand why she's so concerned about me. She's the one who hit me, sure, but everyone laughed. Did she laugh? I hope she didn't. But then again, everyone did. After all it's not the first time I'm hit by a ball in PE. It's the first time someone actually breaks my glasses, though.

The teacher agrees with Alex and asks her if she needs someone else to help her. She says no, and he doesn't insist. Soon she's meeting my eyes again. She looks guilty and worried. Ashamed. Mortified, even.

I start to stand up on my own but Alex quickly takes my arm and wraps it around her shoulders. Her grip is firm but somehow careful, too. "Here, let me help", she says. I let her. I find out she's a bit taller than me, and way broader.

We walk all the way to the infirmary like that.

My world is a broken blur that smells like vanilla.

Alex

I feel like a piece of shit. I probably am.

The guilt is eating me alive.

I should have asked Jess to take her in our team. She's always picked last in gym. I don't know why. It must feel horrible, to be so unwanted. She's not even that bad in gym. I don't get it.

I should have asked Jess to take her in our team, but that's something I should have done months ago. Years, even.

There's something playing in a loop in my head. How Kyle shouted at me to knock the four-eyed nerd. How I obeyed without a second thought. How the ball hit her, hard, in the face. How she fell without so much as a yelp.

How everybody burst out laughing as soon as she was hit.

I didn't laugh. I screamed.

I'd like to take that as a proof I'm not as cruel as the others. I can't, though. Because I'm the one who did it. I'm the one who threw the ball at her just because some asshole told me to. I didn't even think about it. I should have realized it was wrong. I should not have done it. I should have thrown the ball at Kyle, make sure he'd never say shit like that again. I think I will. I think I fucking will.

But later.

Right now, I'm staring at her as the nurse examines her head. Disinfects the wounds I made her. Checks for symptoms of a concussion.

I'm no better than the others.

I'm a bully.

__________

When the nurse is done, he tells me I can go back to class. I squeeze my fists.

"Can I stay here? It's my fault. I can't just go like nothing happened."

Nancy shoots me an odd look. Is she surprised?

"You don't have to", she says. She sounds unsure.

"But-", I start. The nurse interrupts me with a lifted hand.

"Actually, I have to go help Mr Gerry in... " He checks his watch. "... 8 minutes, so I'd appreciate having someone there to make sure she doesn't lose consciousness."

"I can do that", I say, catching the occasion before he changes his mind.

"But as soon as I return, you go back to your classes." He turns towards Nancy. "If you don't have a problem with her staying, that is."

I can see her hesitating. She glances at me, then : "I have no problem with that."

I swear my heart leaps in my ribcage.

The nurse leads her to a bed and tells her to rest. He tells me to be careful not to let her fall asleep. I nod. He leaves to gather the things he'll need and I sit on the chair next to the bed. Nancy is leaning her back against the bed base and staring at her hands. They're scratched. I remember her grimacing as the nurse cleaned them.

I feel out of place.