Lessons Learned

The house is silent when I wake. The sounds I've come to fear- the television on downstairs, the sound of the shower running across the hall, pots and pans banging around in the kitchen- don't welcome me and for that I'm grateful. Letting go of the breath I'd been holding in I clench my teeth and try to rise.

Clawing at the carpet I raise myself up into a half upright position and nearly double over as a shot of pain rips through my abdomen. Counting to ten and then back down I wait for the pain to leave before carefully lifting up my shirt. When I do I'm met with a softball sized bruise that's starting to form on my stomach region. Various other bruises and scraps litter my body too but the one on my stomach is the worse this time.

Leaning against the wall for support I slowly make my way to the bathroom and close the door behind me. Locking it- not that it's done any good before- I try to avoid looking at myself. Partially because one, I'm always afraid to look at my reflection and two, it's hard to see one's self in a fractured mirror even then.

Turning on the facet I turn on the shower head and shed my clothes. After testing the water I step in and sit down in the tub. Curling into a ball I wrap my arms around my legs and bury my face in my knees.

Just a couple months left. You can make it, you can make it… right?

*^*^*

Making my way down the hallway trying to look as at ease as possible. I greet those who consider themselves my friends, act as if nothing's wrong and that I'm actually in the 'know' about things like sports games and the gossip grapevine.

A guy named Tommy comes up and asks me if I saw some sports game on tv last night and after bluffing my way through his question he runs off for his next class. Sarah comes over and asks me if I read last night's assignment and after telling her what the chapters were about she too leaves for her class. Ingrid comes over to update me on the drama of the couple world and after getting caught up she skips off to spread the news of who's broken up and who's gotten together since last week.

The one minute bell rings right as I reach my locker and after putting in the combo I spend at least 30 seconds trying to remember what I need for class before finally recalling the bare necessities- no pun intended. Grabbing my stuff I slowly make my way to the class room, halls once again empty with the exception of me.

As I'm making it up the second flight of stairs the bell rings. Muttering under my breath, I drag myself up the next flight, walk down the hall to the classroom. Pausing I take a deep breath and open the door. The class as usual erupts into liveliness and after cracking a few jokes I take a seat and try to actually concentrate on the what Mr. Littela- who's looking pretty damn good I might add- is teaching us but the pounding in my head is driving me metaphorically up the wall.

Half way through the class I give up on trying and put my stuff away when Alex- who's sitting behind me- whispers, "Pst. Pst! Can you get my pencil? It's by your feet."

Bending over and kicking it with my shoe so I can reach it, somehow I manage to bang my bruised knee against the leg of the desk and can't help but mutter loudly, "Fuck."

Half the class turns around to see what the commotion's about but Mr. Littela doesn't even turn around. It's times like these that I'm happy teachers- even student teachers- are oblivious to most distractions while in the middle of teaching something that we'll definitely use in our every day life. Such as how to find the circumference of a pizza so we can cut it into equal slices or whatever.

Hanging Alex back his pencil I rub my sore knee and turn my attention to the outside world and how I can't wait to get out of here.

My daydreaming is short lived though when I'm called on to answer a question not long after.

"Since Parker"- damn my name sounds good on his lips- "seems to think the answer is floating outside the window, will you please enlighten the rest of us as to what the solutions are?"

I can feel people's eyes on me as I turn my attention back to the board and scan over the question for a second before answering it easily enough in the next.

"The value of y= 4.5, x=12.8, and z=7.4."

The class seems to stop breathing as they wait for Mr. Littela to check, and then double check the answers before begrudgingly admitting defeat.

"You're right."

Smirking I give him a what-can-I-say-I'm-just-that-good look and add, "I'm also right to say that one plus one equals two and it only takes two to make a bed rock."

The class laughs and a couple people hold out their palms for high fives. Glancing at him I can see his eyes flash dangerously- deliciously so. Cocking my head with the smirk still on my face I tease him with me eyes. Something I've gotten very good at I might add.

Come and get me. You know you want to.

At the bell I grab my stuff and rise, the stiffness of my body making it hard to act as if everything's all fine and dandy.

But I do it.

And before I leave the classroom I even take the time to tell Mr. Littela that I like the way my name sounds on his lips. His eyes bore down on me and I add, just because messing with him takes my mind off of my own problems, "You should say it more often. Wear it out if you like even."