27 | Leo

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I was convinced life hated me

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I was convinced life hated me.

People always said standing up for others paid off and that being a good person was something to never regret.

Well, I definitely did because I looked like shit.

I never cared too much about how I looked as I felt it was something uncontrollable. If I looked good, I looked good, which was a fair amount of the time.

But as the days passed and the fact I was going to be stuck with a scar on my forehead, one near my eye, and possible shoulder pain for the next few months became more apparent, I wished I'd never stepped foot in that parking lot.

Was I happy Neve was safe, yes, did I wish her safety had anything to do with me, a resounding no.

I missed school for a nearly a week, which only increased my stress levels. Not only did I have to think about the two pounds of work waiting for me when I got back, but I'd have to deal with the stares and whispers and all the questions I had no desire to answer.

At least Blake would be out of my sight, thanks to his expulsion and pending appearance in court.

The first person I saw when I returned to school was Santiago, who was standing by my locker with only a folder in his hands. "Hey, you're back," he greeted as I dropped my bag onto the ground and slumped against my locker. So much for being back.

"Feeling great," I mumbled sarcastically. He looked at my face, which was highlighted by faded bruises.

"You look...good?" He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and didn't say anything else, out of fear of my mood. I rolled my eyes and pulled open my locker. A pile of papers flew out and scattered around me in a circle.

"I got it," he said and bent down to scoop up the papers. When he leaned back up, he handed me the papers and said, "You know, you missed just about nothing this week."

"Socially or academically?"

"Socially. Well, there was Blake's suspension and the demise of the football team. And the fact half the grade was talking about you." He paused and turned around to check the clock. "You also kind of missed three tests and a surprise project in psychology. Come to think about it, you missed a lot."

"You always know how to make me feel better, Santiago," I remarked and grabbed my calculus textbook. I winced as the weight of it worsened the soreness in my right shoulder. "How was the last game of the season?"

"Lame as hell. Well, aside from the two goals we scored."

"Who scored them?" I slammed my locker shut and leaned against it.

He smiled, one big enough to brighten his dark brown eyes. "One by me and one spiritually by you." I broke out into a fit of laughter at that, forgetting all about my shoulder.

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