What You Mean to Me

Lena.

I went back into the dance room, but didn't go back to dancing. Instead, I stood standing near the window, looking back at Frank. I noticed Mikey walk over, then Frank's mouth dropped open.

Oh no, did Mikey tell Frank? Did he say something to him? I swear to God, if Mikey said anything to Frank, I will personally kill him.

I saw Mikey walk away, and Frank looked to be lost in thought, when another basketball was thrown at him, by that same group of jocks from earlier. I saw then exchanging a few words, then I saw the blonde leader take a menacing step towards Frank, shoving him.

Oh no, please don't let them start fighting, not again. Frank doesn't need this.

Then Frank did something I have never seen him do before-- he punched the guy right square in the jaw. It looked like a pretty hard hit, and I was very proud of my Frank when I saw the jock stumble back. Frank looked a bit shocked himself, that he actually punched the guy, but quickly swallowed the expression, ready for what came next.

I saw the jock take a swing at Frank, sending him to the ground, while he and his posse continued to punch and kick Frank. I gasped, hoping that there was a teacher around to break it up, but there was not a single coach in sight.

Where the hell are they when you need them?

Great, I would have to break it up myself.

I ran out of the dance room, and into the gym, seeing that Frank was no longer surrounded by the losers, but instead, locked inside the cage that was used to store the basketballs in.

"Frank!" I shouted.

"Lena, no!" He yelled back.

"Frank, I--!"

I was cut off when I heard shots ring out, followed by screams, and was quickly tackled to the ground, and dragged behind the big stack of gymnast mats.

"Are you okay?" Mikey asked, obviously the tackler.

"Mikey, what the hell?" I shouted.

"It's Daniel," he responded. "The guy has lost it! All those years of him being teased and tormented have finally driven him off the edge! He's got a gun!"

I looked over the edge of the mat and sure enough, I saw Daniel with a gun in hand, clicking away in every direction.

"Oh no, Frank," I gasped, quickly getting up.

"Lena, no!" Mikey tried to grab onto me, but I moved out of his reach, running towards Frank.

I had to help Frank. I couldn't let him get shot.

"Lena, what are you doing?" Frank yelled when he saw me approaching him.

I pulled out the pocked knife I had in my sneaker, cutting the rope that the jocks had used to tie the doors closed. I yanked it open, pulling Frank out, and throwing him on the ground before getting on top of him.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Fine," he said. "Are you?"

"Yeah," I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder blade, feeling weak.

The shots continued for five more minutes before Daniel stopped, putting the gun to his own head and pulling the trigger. I quickly got off of Frank, helping him up.

"You okay?" I asked again.

He nodded, glancing around, then his eyes fell on me, and he gasped. "Oh my God, Lena."

I smiled, before my knees gave way, and I couldn't hold myself up anymore, crumpling to the ground. Frank quickly caught me, his hand going to my stomach where there was a red blood stain that was getting bigger on my white shirt.

"Lena!" Mikey was by my side in a second, looking afraid. "Oh no."

"Lena," Frank said. "Lena, are you okay?"

I swallowed, feeling my strength slipping away.

"Someone call nine-one-one!" Mikey was yelling. "Get some help!"

"Frank," I choked out, holding his hand tightly, feeling excruciating pain.

Frank's eyes frantically scanned my face, looking terrified, and he held me tighter. "Lena…" he shook his head, his eyes filling with tears.

"It's just a scratch… I'll be fine," I whispered before my eyes slid shut.