"Naoe-kun?"
I grit my teeth. Just let him go away.
"Naoe-kun!"
Shut up. My eyes are closed.
"NAOE!"
A fist slammed down on my desk, and I felt myself start at the noise.
"WHAT?"
"Homework. Yours. Give."
"I didn't do it."
"Naoe - "
"Back off - " the bell rang. I grimaced up at him.
"See you tomorrow then, Sensei!" I said, in a mock-chipper tone.
He's frowning.
Bitch.
But I'm already out the door, bookbag off one shoulder, walking slowly. I'm in no hurry to get home to those freaks either.
"Oi! Naoe!"
Shit.
There's a hand on my shoulder. A big hand. I turn slowly, gaze already cast upwards. They're always bigger than me.
"Where you off to, pretty boy?"
Fuck. He's bored.
"Home." I readjusted my bag, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
"I think not."
"Oh?"
There are two more behind me, and too many people watching. Swarming. A circle of bodies around us. Their chant of 'FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT' is too loud in my ears.
I smirk up at him.
"You need your boytoys to hold me down then?" Their hands are on me, rooting me to the ground.
The crowd murmured a soft, "ooh" at my comment.
He's pissed.
I can't use my powers - not with all of these people here.
"Naoe, what happened to your babysitter?"
Crawford.
Fuck you.
"He's busy fucking your mother."
"WHAT?"
His eyes are wide, and I am smiling.
Then there's blood all over - the sonofabitch tried to break my nose! I'm stumbling backwards, into his henchmen. Laughter.
MY hands are in fists - but I know that if I hit him, it won't do much good.
I'll just take the easy way out.
One of the boys behind me. I flipped him over my shoulder, using my mind to fling him into the boy whose fist is covered in my blood.
Their blood is on the linoleum as well, mingling with mine.
I'm still smiling.
He's up, and coming at me, now, a punch. My right eye.
The dull pain in my head is only amplified by that punch, and now I just want to kill him.
"Nngh!"
Fuck this.
I send a desk at him - his head hits the corner, and he's out like a light. Blood.
Silence.
I"m stumbling towards Crawford's van, ignoring the cries of "Freak!" and "Wierdo!" - and the stares. The stares are the worst. All those eyes on me.
But before Crawford notices me, I'll duck into the bushes.
He'll ask what happened in an even voice - but I know he doesn't CARE. He can't fool me with words.
I won't answer him, and he'll know exactly what went on. He did before.
But at least, if I hide in the bushes, he won't see me cry.