Achieving Unbroken
Chapter Two

—

"She's got lions in her heart, a fire in her soul.
He's got a beast in his belly that's so hard to control."
Superheroes | The Script

—

Jason
[Monday, April 24th, 2018 - Two Weeks Ago]

If I hear another person mention what day today is, I'll lose it.

I know what today is. Today is marked on my internal calendar, and I don't need any of these dumbass teachers and guidance counselors reminding me of it.

"How do you feel today, Jason?"

I feel like I wanna rip someone's head off, Mrs. Menott. As if you aren't bad enough on every other day, you've just gotta lay it on extra thick today, because everyone is expecting me to just throw myself in a ditch. And I just might if you all keep looking at me with all of that pity on your face.

Today is something I'm trying to block out of my head with the powerful combination of my good friend Chris Cornell and my other bud, Billie Joe Armstrong. Music has proven to be enough to drown my thoughts, but no one is helping when they keep asking the teacher what day it is, and then the teacher writes it on the whiteboard, where everyone, especially me, can see it. And then, the icing on the cake: the look that the teacher gives me before they start writing it.

I. Don't. Need. Help. What I need is for you people to leave me alone, just for today. You can irritate me on any other day no matter how much I hate it, just stop doing it today.

Shoving my way through the lunch crowd, I can feel eyes on me, and I would rather not look and see them. So, I push myself outside, pass the outdoor tables with my head down, until I bump into something.

Or, someone.

When I look up, I see Charlie Felds' face. He looks bothered, too, probably because I just ran into him, but I'm not in the mood to pick a fight.

So I walk away without a word. But he doesn't like that.

"He's just upset 'cause he didn't know his little brother was a drug addict."

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me.

"Charlie, that's not cool. Your sister wouldn't want you to do this." I turn around and see Lilla Harris---a cool girl with a huge influence around the school---with Charlie pulled aside. She sends me an 'I'm sorry he's such a dick' look, but I feel tempted to speak up.

"It's because of that Oakland kid that my baby sister is six feet under! He—"

What? What the hell did Joey have to do with Charlie's sister?

"She wouldn't want this for you," Lilla keeps trying.

"You didn't know her. And thanks to his little brother—you never will," Charlie's menacing voice booms at Lilla as he points at me.

Confused and provoked to shut him up, I confront him.

"Have I done something to you, Charlie?"

"Naw, nothing that I remember... Why're you asking, freak?"

"Charlie, I mean it." She's trying to stop him, but he's on a roll.

He stands up straighter, worming his way inside my personal space bubble, and I do the same.

"Then why go through the trouble to try and bother me? I don't see the point if you aren't gonna get anything out of me." A slimy smirk grows on his face, and I know it's about to get worse. Lilla looks at me, I look at her, our eyes lock, and hers are filled with panic. Like she knows what's about to happen.

"You sure that I won't get anything out of you? Face it. He was involved in some jacked up shit and you're mad 'cause you didn't pay enough attention to him to notice."

"Charlie, stop." Despite Lilla's demand, he gets even closer to me and I give him a small shove.

"Man, just leave me alone." I'm stepping away, wanting to avoid the foreseeable future, but he pushes me right back anyways. I push him again to get him farther away from me, because he reeks of pot. "Dude, stop it. Chill."

"But I don't wanna stop, Oakland. You think you get to walk around acting like a little bitch to everyone, but that ends today. Get back in line." He keeps pushing me while I say this, and Lilla keeps trying to get him to stop but he won't, and everyone else around is either gawking or recording it. I'm sure it will be all over their Snapchat stories once we finish this up.

I'm trying not to fight back, but he's getting way too close and his spit is getting in my face and it's disgusting. So I push him again.

And he punches me straight in the eye.

Lilla tries to get in between us but he pushes her out of the way, and her side almost gets rammed into the picnic table if she hadn't put her hands out to stop the impact.

I recover from the blow quickly, and punch him right back. My fist collides with his nose, ringing out a nice crunch, and his retaliation comes with a swift fist to my gut. This time, Lilla accomplishes her goal of getting between us, facing Charlie and saying things that I didn't catch, too distracted by my throbbing eye and aching stomach, but I turn back to them just in time to see him shove her out of the way harshly, and her body hits the unforgiving cement ground.

I punch him in the jaw this time, then the eye, and he's just about done for by now, lying on the ground and groaning. But one of his goons steps in and gives me a solid few punches to my face and head, and I fall down next to Lilla.

She crawls over to me to see if I'm OK, wincing every time her left knee touches the cement. When she is finally crouching in front of me, I see the huge gash on her knee that the fall caused.

But she's not focused on her own ailments, instead, she is pulling a pocket-sized pack of tissues out of the purse that you never see her without and is dabbing some blood off of my face and cleaning my wounds. Her huge group of friends, minus Piper and Gavin, run out of the crowd, look at her, and they don't do anything and run straight over to Charlie. In fact, now that I'm looking in his direction, everyone is over by Charlie, making sure he's alright. Lilla is the only person with me, and she's not saying anything, probably because she knows it would hurt if I tried to reply.

By now, one of Charlie's friends had ran to get the principal. From what I could hear, they were blaming it on me, saying something about how I just walked up and started bothering him. It was their word against mine, and Lilla was the only other person who would tell the correct recount of events. But, with her credibility at this school, things may turn out in my favor.

She peels a tissue away from my face, it's sticky with blood, and she mumbles "hang on" while she goes over to Mr. Kinley, our principal. I can't hear what they are saying, but she keeps looking back at me, and some of Charlie's friends are trying to say "that's not what happened!". Kinley is focused on her, though, and I feel hopeful.

They wrap up their conversation with some nodding and some thank yous, and she comes back over to me.

"Can you stand?" She asks, so gently as if I could lash out on her at any moment. I manage to nod, and a small but genuine smile is my reward when I do. Her right arm wraps around my back, her left hand gripping my left arm, and suddenly I am successfully on two feet. "We're going to the nurse. You may have to go to the hospital if it looks like you've got a concussion." I just nod again.

The two of us limp to the main office and stumble into the nurse's office, who has me lay on one of the beds and Lilla sits on the edge of it. The nurse first acknowledges her knee, which is now coated in a thick layer of drying blood, and Lilla waves it off, saying she'll take care of it herself while the nurse focuses on me.

Ms. Olive, our nurse, observes my face, shines a light in my eyes, and cleans up the blood on my face. I distract myself from what she's doing by watching Lilla go through the process of cleaning her knee.

She opens the cabinets and grabs hydrogen peroxide, along with a bag of cotton balls. She dampens a cotton ball with the peroxide and starts dabbing it all over her knee, which she had propped up on the other bed, and it instantly starts to bubble, which means there's a lot of bacteria in the scrapes. From past experience, lots of bubbles also means it should hurt like a bitch, but she just stands there, watching the bubbles grow and pop. There is not a single sign of pain on her face.

"Shouldn't you start your way to fifth period?" Ms. Olive asks her just as she smooths a bandage over her knee. She smirks.

"Probably, but the farther away I am from Mrs. Derrick the better." She goes around the bed and approaches mine. "How's he looking?"

"No concussion, luckily. If his head had hit the cement then the chances would be greater, but a few punches from a high school boy don't do nearly as much damage as they cause externally. No broken nose either, his fist didn't make direct contact with it. But if you wanna stall going to Derrick's, I'll write you a pass and you can escort Mr. Oakland to his next class."

Lilla's mouth forms into a huge, thankful grin.

"Best nurse ever."

"And don't you forget it," Ms. Olive replies. "Lemme go write you that note." Lilla thanks her, and she scurries back inside her office.

Lilla comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, closer to me, and leans close to examine my face. She brings her hands up and runs her fingers over the cuts on my face, and my nose.

"How much does it hurt?" Her voice is a notch above a whisper.

"I'm trying not to think about it," I slur. It's true, I'm trying not to think about how my face is pulsing with pain, and instead focus on how her hands on my face is the most physical contact I've made with anyone, let alone a girl, in awhile.

Ms. Olive comes back in before Lilla can say anything else, with a piece of paper in hand.

"Here, Doll. You deliver Mr. Oakland to---" She pauses, looking at me, wanting to know my fifth period.

"Chem, Galliston," is all I say. Ms. Olive nods.

"Chemistry with Miss Galliston, and give that to Derrick. Look smug while you do it too. I don't like her," Olive finishes. Lilla laughs, and tells Olive that she will be coming back to the nurse's office to gossip. With a thank you and a take care, Lilla manages to get me off of the bed and wraps her arms around me like she did earlier. As we leave, we pass Charlie being helped to the nurse by his friends, and while no one says anything; glares are exchanged. We reach the science and math building, and she gets me to my class.

"I've got it from here," I say before I open the classroom door. Her arms drop, while one returns to her side the other sinks down and she grabs my hand.

"You sure? What kind of assistance would I be if I didn't get you all the way to your desk?" She jokes. I smile a little, but it aches, so I stop as soon as I started.

"Yeah. I'm good. I'm going to have to sit through a tense meeting with the principal and my father after school, but I'm good." I give her hand a squeeze, which shocks me. I'm not normally the one doing anything comforting or nice, but here I was with a girl who I've never spoken to much who's genuinely concerned that I might pass out in class.

"OK. See you around?"

"Yeah. See ya." She squeezes my hand back, before releasing it completely and walking to the end of the hall. I watch her leave and turn the corner, not wanting to go to science, but I'm trying to shape up my attendance record. Might as well only have one thing to discuss with the principal.

So, I take a few deep breaths, twist the doorknob, and head inside.