I spent all of the following class periods trying to remember everyone's name.

The blond I called Bubbles real name is Erin. She is the main one who is able to communicate with Kyle.

Then there is Brook, who I have been calling Buttercup this whole time. Brooke is actually super sweet and is unable to contain the massive crush she has on me.

Finally there is Aubrey, the ginger. She is the one I should have been calling Buttercup, since she has an attitude problem. She is actually the one I like the most because her humor is almost as dry as mine.

Then there is Ky, Mr. Silent. I probably shouldn't joke about him being deaf, but it is not like he is going to hear me. Okay, I'll stop.

When the bell rang I decided to make my way to the weight lifting room. I wanted to get some reps in before tryouts. As I was walking through the hallway I heard the typical chatter of sports teams, and the big dance coming up. I also heard the sound of multiple people running in my direction.

One of those people being Ky. As usual he looked terrified. It only took a moment before I made eye contact with James. James nearly fell over as he rushed to a stop. I was able to grab Ky before he ran past me. He let out a little whine, which I can only assume is a protest to his grand escape.

"Relax." I hissed at Ky. I was able to turn Ky around so he could see the fear on James's face.

Ky looked up at me and smiled before motioning me to follow him. And just like that I was tricked into being this kid's body guard.

Ky may have looked down when walking past James and his goons, but I did not. "Let's not make this a daily thing. I would hate to get physical." I threaten James.

"Do you really think you can take all four of us?" James asked.

I had James in the air, and pinned up against the locker before you could even blink. My sudden and swift movement caused James's body to go limp.

"Are you questioning me boy?" My question, a borderline whisper. "Do you really want to play with your life?"

The hall went dead silent as pass-byers turned into on-lookers. The only sound that was heard was water hitting the floor. Water? A quick scan of the area revealed that the water hitting the floor was coming from James's pants leg.

I scared the piss out of James.

"Go clean yourself up." I ordered Jams, as I set him on the ground.

I looked over at all of the staring faces. All of them looked at me with such fear. All of them but Ky. Ky had this amused look on his face, before he gave me this safe smile. He motioned me to follow him as our fellow classmates created a path for us to walk through. I tried not to let their eyes bother me.

I was unable to control my anger again.

I'm sure dad will hear about this. Just this one time I didn't want my existence to affect my dad in a negative way.

I silently followed Ky. Occasionally he would look back to see if I was still following. I couldn't help but, wonder why was I still following?

To my surprise Ky led me to the weight lifting room. The room was filled with various workout equipment from treadmills to weight lifting benches. Free weights were scattered around the floor as well. This room feels like home.

Ky ran over to a punching bag which was close to a white board. He tossed me a pair of boxing gloves.

"Sorry bro, I don't fight." I admitted. Boxing was my dad's thing. I lift weights.

Ky frowned at me and pointed to the bag. As he laced up his gloves I could tell by his stance that he wanted me to hold the bag. His stance was similar to my dad's. I went over to hold the bag so Ky could have a steady target. Though he didn't hit with the force of my father he had a nice impact.

"If you box, why do you let those guys bully you?" I asked like an idiot forgetting that he can't hear me. Ky just kept beating the punching bag. I moved the bag, earning me a nice punch in the gut.

Ky took several steps back when he realized that he hit me. He still had that fearful look in his eyes.

I walked over to the white board and wrote a simple question. Fight bullies?

Ky took the marker out of my hands and wrote his answer. 4 vs 1 = sad face. SMS.

"What's SMS?" I asked.

Ky let out a laugh as he wrote Simple Math Stupid.

This guy.

I grabbed a pair of boxing gloves. "Go hold the damn bag before I hit you instead." I'm not sure if he could actually hear me, but Ky ran over to the punching bag like his life depended on it.