Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

If you don’t understand how friendship works or the importance of maintaining them, this chapter may seem boring and meaningless to you.

From the beginning of this novel, I made it clear that the MC is a good person, neutral good, possibly bordering on chaotic good (for those who play DnD). Obviously, he's not Mother Teresa of Calcutta, but whenever possible, I will do my best to make him a likable character and someone respected by others. He will do good things without expecting anything in return (no, not the "sigma" personality that plagues fanfics lately).

The MC’s group of friends may not share many things with him, but to me, those are the best friendships. Sure, finding someone who shares your likes and dislikes is great too, but being friends with someone who is different from you in many ways, yet still being great friends, is a wonderful experience.

If you don’t understand that, I feel sorry for you.

By the way, I don’t know how "free periods" work in American schools, so I hope we can all just ignore that part of this chapter as something completely possible and not at all far from reality

Enjoy.

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Having dropped Kat off at her house, I drove straight to the Kingman house, which, fortunately, wasn't too far from my friend's place. Having the notes I’d taken in each class served as the perfect excuse to visit my friend.

“PJ!” Mrs. Kingman exclaimed, pleasantly surprised as she pulled me into a tight hug after I knocked on the door.

“Mrs. Kingman,” I said, slightly embarrassed by her reaction, awkwardly patting her back. “I came to bring Brock today’s homework and my class notes.” Once she let me go, I showed her the papers and continued, “Do you think I could go see him?” I asked hopefully.

“Oh, this is very kind of you,” she said, taking the papers from my hands and smiling sweetly. “I’m sorry, PJ, but I don’t think Joey wants to see anyone right now. I hope you understand,” she added, tilting her head sadly.

“Don’t worry, I understand,” I replied, quickly reassuring her with a disappointed smile. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll come back tomorrow with more notes.”

“Please do,” she said gratefully, pressing her lips together, seemingly trying to stop tears from forming in her eyes. “I’ll let Joey know you came by to visit.”

“Thank you,” I said, nodding, as I said goodbye and walked back to my car.

The day continued and ended normally, and as a few days passed, I kept going to detention every day. After that, I would take Kat home, a trip we used to talk—not like before, but we were slowly getting there.

There wasn’t much change with Brock. Each day after dropping off Kat, I would bring him my class notes and homework, hoping my friend would feel better and talk. Unfortunately, all I got from him were the assignments already completed, along with an apology from his mother.

The only thing that really changed in my routine was the addition of my 'community service' at school. During most lunch breaks or free periods, I had to go to the infirmary to help the nurse with whatever she needed.

“Gladis, these medicines are expired,” I exclaimed in disbelief during one of the free periods as I was organizing the infirmary drawers, part of my duties. I was increasingly worried as I saw several medications that had expired over a year ago.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to replace them; they’re in that locker,” said Nurse Gladis, an older woman with a strong smell of cigarettes and, oddly, raisins, as she absentmindedly filled out a small Sudoku book.

“You forgot?” I said incredulously, lowering my voice, knowing I’d have to speak much louder for her to hear me.

It only took stepping into the infirmary on the first day to realize I’d be working hard to fix whatever the nurse hadn’t done. After a few minutes of meeting the elderly woman, I understood that list was much longer than I’d imagined. In no time, I had taken over almost all of her work.

“I’m going to take a five-minute break,” she said, opening one of her desk drawers and pulling out what I was sure was a pack of cigarettes, before leaving the infirmary as fast as her weak knees would allow.

“So, you’re just going to leave a teenager with the keys to the medicine cabinet completely unsupervised?” I muttered to myself, amused, as I reorganized the ‘new’ boxes of medicine. Judging by the amount of dust inside the locker, I was sure Gladis had forgotten about them long before the old medications expired.

While I was focused on efficiently organizing the medicines and thinking about labeling them so Gladis wouldn’t confuse them in the future, I heard the door open.

“That was a quick cigarette,” I said again in a normal voice, knowing the woman wouldn’t hear me, turning around expecting to see Gladis.

“Cigarette?” Kat asked, amused, instead, standing there in sportswear with two other girls, one of whom had obviously injured her legs, specifically her knees.

“Nothing,” I quickly responded to Kat. “Come, lie down,” I added, ignoring my friend's smile as I approached to help guide the injured girl to the infirmary bed. “What were you doing?” I asked, studying the girl’s injury and hoping Gladis wouldn’t take too long to return, as technically, I wasn’t supposed to treat any of my classmates.

“We were training,” Kat answered, somewhat embarrassed, before the other two girls could respond.

“Training?” I asked, confused. I didn’t remember any other sport at school besides football and cheerleading, and Kat had never mentioned being involved in anything.

“We’re part of the school’s girls' soccer team,” the other girl accompanying Kat responded energetically, smiling widely at me and fluttering her eyelashes exaggeratedly.

“OK…” I said slowly, ignoring the growing chills the energetic girl was giving me. “I didn’t know the school had a girls' soccer team,” I admitted, embarrassed, to Kat, who snorted in disbelief.

“Neither does anyone else. I don’t think even Mr. Lundy knows there’s a team, and he’s the teacher in charge,” my friend said sarcastically.

“Mr. Lundy? The theater teacher?” I asked incredulously, both amused and surprised, receiving a disappointed nod from Kat.

“Mr. Lundy knows about the team. He constantly asks me how training is going,” the energetic girl, Lindsey, said, frowning and slightly annoyed at Kat.

“Oh, please, Lindsey, we don’t even have a full team; we’re ten players,” Kat said, rolling her eyes in exasperation, which started a small argument between the two about Kat’s pessimistic attitude and how it affected the team.

I couldn’t help but laugh, which visibly made the two girls in front of me blush and stop their argument. “Why haven’t I ever been invited to watch a game?” I quickly asked, trying to avoid Kat getting upset over my laughter.

“Games? What games?” Kat asked sarcastically, making Lindsey anxiously hit her arm.

“Of course, you’re invited to watch all the games,” Lindsey said eagerly, once again smiling exaggeratedly and fluttering her eyelashes.

“Thanks, Lindsey,” I said, feeling a bit awkward about her rapid eyelash fluttering. “Oh, sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m PJ Duncan,” I quickly added, realizing I hadn’t done anything but ask questions during the entire interaction.

“I know,” Lindsey said dreamily, taking my hand in a surprisingly strong grip.

“Right,” I said, gently pulling my hand from her grasp, turning to the injured girl on the bed, who was much calmer, now that she wasn’t putting pressure on her hurt knee.

“Madeline,” the girl on the bed said, strangely embarrassed, also accepting my hand in a thankfully more normal handshake.

“Well, Madeline, it looks like Nurse Gladis is a bit busy. Do you mind if I take care of this? I’m just going to clean it up and apply some medicine. For that, I’ll have to touch your leg,” I said seriously, checking my watch.

It might be an awkward situation having to touch her leg to... “Absolutely!” Madeline responded immediately, excitedly. “I mean, sure, go for it, thanks,” she continued, calming down, embarrassed, as she made a small grimace of pain when moving her leg.

“Good,” I said, a bit surprised by her immediate response, taking a few seconds to readjust my thoughts as I prepared everything I’d need to clean the wound.

“How did you hurt yourself? How did you fall?” I asked calmly, washing my hands at the small infirmary sink.

“I tripped while running,” Madeline responded, clearly embarrassed.

“On your own?” I asked seriously as I took a seat next to the bed.

“Yes,” Madeline answered, sending an annoyed look at the other two girls who were teasing her.

“Do you trip on your own often?” I asked seriously, checking her eyes for any signs of injury.

“No,” the girl responded nervously, avoiding eye contact.

“Good,” I nodded, stepping back. Maybe working with House had made me a bit paranoid. An accidental fall was sometimes just that—an accident. “This will sting a little,” I said, using the only kidney tray Gladis had as I started rubbing some soap and water on the edge of the wound.

“Aren’t you going to use alcohol to disinfect?” Madeline asked, surprised, wincing in pain.

“No, that’s a bad habit,” I said calmly, making sure to clean the wound thoroughly. “Although alcohol does have antimicrobial properties, it also damages healthy cells that are trying to repair the tissues,” I explained as I finished cleaning the wound and prepared to disinfect it.

When I finished my explanation, I was so focused on properly treating Melanie’s wound that I didn’t notice the room had fallen completely silent.

Since the injuries were on her knees, they were more prone to getting irritated and dirty again, so I decided to apply a dressing and bandage. “Sorry,” I said as I carefully lifted Madeline’s leg to pass the bandages correctly, doing the same with the other knee, and clapping my hands in satisfaction when I was done.

“You’ll need to change the dressing daily for a few days until it heals, then you can leave it uncovered,” I told her while cleaning up the trash from the bandage wrappers and throwing them away.

Receiving no response, I noticed the awkward silence and looked at the girls, who were staring at me intently.

“What?” I asked nervously.

“No-nothing,” Kat quickly replied as her friends only nodded in agreement.

“Can you change my bandages?” Madeline asked slowly. “Are you going to be here for more days?” she added quickly, now embarrassed.

“I have to be here for at least two weeks, so yes, I’ll be here until next week,” I explained while washing my hands. “But I’m sure Nurse Gladis will be around during those days,” I continued, and just then, the nurse’s door opened again.

“Oh, what do we have here?” Gladis, walking hunched over and reeking of cigarette smoke, asked slowly as she entered the room and put on her glasses with shaky hands.

“Knee laceration. I cleaned it and applied dressings and bandages,” I said quickly, almost by habit, loud enough for her to hear. She nodded slowly.

“You did? Good, good,” she said, smiling, clearly pleased as she hobbled to her desk, took a seat with her shaky knees, and opened her small Sudoku book, visibly relieved that she didn’t have to do her job.

Amused by the elderly woman, completely focused on her little book, Kat and her friends seemed to remember where they were and the time. “Is there anything else Madeline needs to know?” Kat asked after looking at the clock on the wall.

“No, you're good to go,” I smiled at the girls.

“Well, thanks,” Madeline said, blushing, as she was helped to her feet by Kat and Lindsey.

“I’ll see you later,” Kat said, pausing for a moment at the infirmary door.

“Sure,” I replied, smiling at my friend as they walked down the hall.

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who knows what he’s talking about, no matter the topic,” Gladis said playfully, not taking her eyes off her Sudoku book.

“Wha…” I mumbled, deeply uncomfortable, and quickly got back to work, pretending I hadn’t heard her words.

The day continued, like every other, ending with detention with Mr. Givens. I finished the day’s assignments with Kat, who now sat beside me.

“So, soccer?” I teased her as we left school, walking towards my car.

“Shut up,” Kat grumbled.

“Oh, come on, why didn’t you ever tell me?” I pressed, still amused, as I opened the passenger door.

“It’s just practice. You don’t go around telling everyone that you train to be some sort of Rambo,” Kat said sarcastically. “Well, everyone knows it by now,” she added playfully, rummaging through the CDs in the glove compartment as she usually did.

“Yeah… well, I told my friends,” I said sarcastically, ignoring her teasing.

“Oh, don’t play that card,” Kat said, offended, hitting my shoulder.

“It’s my card, and I’ll play it whenever I want,” I said, laughing as I shielded myself from her playful punches.

“Ugh, you’re unbearable,” Kat exclaimed, banging her head against the seat. “I don’t know, it’s just soccer, and we’re in Texas,” she said, throwing her hands up. “It’s just a sport.”

“I get that,” I replied, still amused, “but it’d be fun to cheer you on, you know, yell ‘Goal!’ and all that,” I teased.

“Goal,” Kat said, rolling her eyes in exasperation, though she couldn’t help but smile. “Even if I wanted to invite you to these ‘matches’ you think exist, I assure you, there are none,” she declared, sighing.

“Why not?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Are there no other schools with girls' soccer teams?” As I asked, I realized it was quite possible there weren’t.

“Yeah, there’s a small league with nearby towns,” Kat responded, sounding disappointed, which surprised me—I hadn’t expected that answer.

“Then?” I asked, incredulous. “Why don’t you guys participate?” I pressed further.

“We’re not a full team,” Kat explained.

“Oh yeah, ten players, and you need eleven,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Why not ask for new members? I never heard about the soccer team, so I’m sure plenty of others haven’t either.”

“Oh, please, PJ, tell me the last time you found out about something without Alan or someone else having to tell you,” Kat declared sarcastically.

“Hey, that’s hurtful… somehow,” I said, feigning offense.

“There’s been a flyer on the notice board since the beginning of the school year,” Kat said ironically.

“Notice board?” I mumbled to myself, confused.

“Exactly!” Kat exclaimed, clearly hearing me.

“We should try finding one more member for your team. I bet there’s someone who wants to play,” I said seriously.

“Oh, I’m sure if you ask, every girl will want to join,” Kat muttered irritably, rolling her eyes as she turned up the music.

“Yeah, sure,” I said sarcastically, amused that Kat thought that way. I didn’t want to be arrogant, but it was quite possible she was just talking out of jealousy.

Soon after, we arrived at Kat’s house, where I dropped her off. As had become routine, I drove to the Kingman’s house once again, but unfortunately, Mrs. Kingman once again apologized at the door, saying Brock still didn’t want to see anyone.

At the gym, surprisingly, more people had signed up over the past couple of days. “Three more people?” I asked Tim, who was in charge when I wasn’t around, by Case’s orders.

“Yeah, we really need to create a schedule or expand. If we keep growing, there won’t be enough space in the gym soon,” Tim said seriously beside me.

Tim was right. At that moment, there were more people than there was equipment. Luckily, Case also noticed the problem and was supervising a line of people practicing shadowboxing.

“We need to expand. We might have to close for a few days,” I nodded, remembering the extra space in the back where the ring was ‘stored.’

With so many new sign-ups, the gym had made a decent amount of money, possibly enough to hire a contractor to do the work.

“What’s the plan for the space?” Case asked from behind us, clearly having finished giving instructions to the clients. “We can’t just turn people away. That would be a stupid idea for the business,” he continued, crossing his arms and watching the people train.

I wasn’t sure if Case would ever admit it, but there were times I could see a certain pride in his eyes when he looked at the gym and the people training inside.

“I agree. I think it’s time to hire someone to knock down that wall,” I said, pointing to the back wall.

“Yeah, that would open up a lot more space,” Case agreed. “Do we have enough?” he asked seriously, pointing at the registration book.

“I think we can manage,” I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure since I didn’t know how much contractors typically charged.

“Good,” Case said calmly, nodding. “Start warming up. Today, we’re doing physical training,” he said, clapping his hands to signal the others to change their exercises.

The next day at school, my day started normally... for the first two periods. After lunch in the cafeteria with Georgie and David, I slowly made my way to the nurse’s office. Thankfully, the halls were much quieter, and after three days, I wasn’t getting as many stares as I had on Monday.

“Gladis, Gladis, Gladis!” I shouted in concern upon entering the nurse’s office. The elderly woman was slumped in her chair with her Sudoku book covering her face, seemingly asleep. But by the third shout, when she still hadn’t moved, I quickly approached to check her pulse.

“What?” Gladis suddenly woke up, moving faster than I’d ever seen her move, and threw her little book aside in surprise.

“You were telling me about your husband,” I said with a smile, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs.

“Oh yeah, Marcus was a milkman. Back then, people bought milk at their doorsteps, not in stores like today,” she began her story. I had discovered that she always changed the story no matter what I asked. Last time, he was a mailman.

"Oh look at that, it's that time of the day," Gladis suddenly said as she glanced at her tiny watch while listening to the interesting, possibly made-up, story about her husband's adventures. I seriously doubted the watch even worked.

"Don't worry, Gladis, I'll be here watching over the medicines, even the incredibly addictive ones, which still surprise me for being in a school," I said at normal volume, smiling at her. Squinting her eyes from the lack of glasses, she smiled calmly.

"I'm going to take a quick break," she said, grabbing her pack of cigarettes while getting up and walking out of the nurse's office.

"Sure, go relax," I said playfully, loud enough for her to hear, as if I hadn't caught her napping when I arrived earlier.

Spinning in the old nurse's office chair, I checked to see if there was anything missing from the work Gladis hadn't done. In less than three days, what initially seemed like an endless list of tasks had become a totally manageable school infirmary.

"Hey," suddenly, a voice from the door startled me, interrupting my proud inspection of my work in the room.

"Hey, Melanie," I said, standing up with a smile. "How's your knee?" I asked.

"It still hurts a little," she replied, smiling, "but I think the medicine helped."

"Good, good," I nodded. "Are you here to change your bandages?" I asked.

"Yeah," she responded excitedly, "I mean, yes," she quickly corrected herself, calming her excitement.

"Okay, you came at a bad time. Gladis just stepped out for a break," I said, offering Melanie the infirmary bed to sit on as I settled back in the old chair.

"Oh, really?" Melanie asked, with an oddly exaggerated tone of disappointment. "That's too bad," she added, slightly lowering her head. "I don't suppose you could do it again?" she asked eagerly, snapping her head up like a spring before I could say anything.

"Well..." I slowly checked my watch. "I mean, sure," I nodded, continuing, thinking about the awkward wait until Gladis would return.

"Great!" Melanie said, nodding excitedly with a big smile. "Thanks," she added, quickly calming her nerves again, more seriously this time.

"Alright, yeah," I stood up, grabbing everything I needed to do the same thing I had done the day before. I watched as she nervously settled onto the bed. For some strange reason, this felt wrong. "Okay, let's see," I said slowly as I removed the poorly applied bandages from her knees. "Did you wash it?"

"Oh yeah, I remembered how you did it while I was taking a bath," she replied, embarrassed.

"Good," I said, focused on cleaning her wounds to change her bandages. "The important thing is not to wash the wound directly, but around it, letting the soapy water flow over the wound. Got that?" I asked, showing her slowly how to do it.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly, her eyes wide open, clearly lost in thought.

"Great," I said quickly, finishing cleaning the wound again and applying fresh bandages, all the while avoiding eye contact with her. "That's it," I said, standing up swiftly after finishing "my job."

"Thanks," Melanie said weakly, still sitting on the infirmary bed.

"No problem at all," I replied calmly, nodding while putting away the things I had used.

"Are you free this Saturday?" Melanie asked suddenly, sounding nervous while I cleaned the old infirmary equipment.

"Wha—" I was about to reply, but she quickly cut me off again.

"I know you have that hospital thing—I mean, everyone knows you work at the hospital with doctors," she said hurriedly.

"Oh, uhm, I'm sorry, Melanie, I'm—" I tried to explain that I was grounded and that I definitely wouldn't have a 'free' weekend for a couple of weeks.

"Oh, just forget I said anything, please," she interrupted me once more, clearly embarrassed, before rushing out of the infirmary, seemingly ignoring her knee injuries entirely.

Other than Melanie, nobody really visited the infirmary on a regular day. After lunch, I returned to class, leaving Gladis alone in the room once more. Seeing her tired face, I was sure she'd be asleep again in no time.

The day passed, and once again, I found myself outside the Kingman house, waiting for someone to open the door. "Mister—Kingman," I started to say, having grown used to the woman opening the door, but I quickly stopped myself when I found Mr. Kingman at the door instead.

"Son!" he said with a wide smile, patting me on the shoulder.

"I came to drop off my notes for Brock," I said, smiling back at the incredibly muscular man as I handed him the sheets of notes I had taken.

"Oh yeah, my wife told me you’ve been doing this for Joey. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it," he said, nodding seriously as he slapped the notes against his hand before placing them on a small table inside the door.

"It's nothing, really. He's my friend, after all," I said, feeling a bit embarrassed by the man's seriousness.

"That's right," Mr. Kingman said softly, with a slight smile.

"Yeah... is Brock home? Think I could see him?" I asked, hopeful as usual after a few awkward seconds of silence on the Kingman porch.

"He's actually not home," Mr. Kingman said, smiling with apparent relief. "He finally decided to leave his room, and he’s at a gym!" he added, clearly excited.

"Gym?" I asked, concerned. It was very possible that, given his current mood, my friend could hurt himself by suddenly deciding to work out. I hoped he was being smart about it and not overdoing it.

"Yeah, today he just suddenly got motivated to exercise. I bet he'll be back at school in no time," the man said, nodding with relief.

"I really hope so," I replied, smiling back at him. "So, do you think he's ready to see me?" I asked.

"I don’t know, son. I'm sorry," he said, his smile fading for a moment. "This is definitely a step forward, but I don't know how he feels about seeing anyone right now," he said slowly. "I don't want to push him."

Surprisingly, Mr. Kingman, despite his tough exterior, had a good understanding of his son's emotions and knew where the limits were in terms of what to impose.

"I understand," I said, nodding again, feeling a bit disappointed.

"I'll talk to him," the man said seriously. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try to convince him," he added, patting my shoulder once more.

"That sounds great, thanks," I said, nodding in appreciation.

"Son, you came at the perfect time. If you had been a minute later, no one would have been here to open the door," Mr. Kingman said, checking his watch. "I have to go, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, alright?" he said, patting my shoulder again as he leaned down to grab what looked like a toolbox.

"Sure, thanks, Mr. Kingman," I replied.

"I mean it, son. You're practically part of the family now," he said seriously as we stepped off the front porch together, his hand still on my shoulder.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, smiling gratefully.

"Great," Mr. Kingman said, patting my shoulder one last time before walking over to a truck I had never seen parked at the house before. I guessed he was always working whenever I visited in the past.

On the side of his truck, in large letters, like Bob's advertisement, there was a picture of him wearing a construction helmet, along with his contact number.

"Rocky's Contractors," I read in disbelief. "No way. What are the odds?" I murmured. "Mr. Kingman! Do you have a contact card?"

With Mr. Kingman's card in hand, that night I let Tim arrange for him to visit the gym and provide an estimate for how much it would cost to expand the back of the place. I wouldn’t take advantage of him—it was, after all, his job.

The next day at lunch in the school infirmary, Gladis was telling me a fantastic story about how she had once appeared in a movie during her youth when it was time for her cigarette break.

"I wonder how many cigarettes she smokes on her 'break'," I muttered as Gladis walked out of the room, leaving me alone as I spun in one of the chairs.

"I twisted my ankle, can you help me?" someone suddenly asked, out of breath at the infirmary door, startling me so much I almost fell out of the chair.

Turning quickly, I found myself facing a girl I had never seen before. She was obviously flustered, slightly blushing as if she had just run to get there.

"You twisted your ankle?" I asked, standing up and smiling at her, noticing that she didn’t seem to have any trouble putting weight on either of her feet.

"Oh yeah, it hurts really bad," the girl said quickly, noticing her 'mistake' as she shifted her weight to one foot, pretending to be in pain when she moved the other.

"Right," I muttered, puzzled. "Take a seat, the nurse won’t be long," I said, smiling as I pointed to the bed. A 'twisted ankle' could wait for Gladis.

"Can't you do something?" she asked, biting her lip as if to avoid smiling. "Maybe a massage?" she added weakly, lifting her foot as she sat on the bed.

What's going on?

"It hurts a lot," the girl said as she took off her shoe and sock, pressing her foot, which showed no signs of trauma.

"You know what, sure," I said, checking my watch and slowly walking over to the bed. "Tell me, what's your name?" I asked, placing my hand on her ankle and leaning in closer.

"Susan," she replied weakly, staring directly into my eyes.

"Susan, beautiful name," I said, smiling as I gently pressed her ankle. "It’s a name associated with purity and beauty, if I remember correctly," I continued, almost whispering. I recalled reading that somewhere.

"Yeah," Susan murmured, completely lost in my words.

I couldn’t believe this was actually working.

"Now, Susan, why did you lie?" I asked calmly, standing up and stepping back.

"What?" Susan asked, as if snapping out of a trance.

"Yes, I was pressing your ankle a moment ago and moving it around. You have a healthy range of motion, so there’s no sprain—not even a grade one," I explained, washing my hands and smiling at her as she looked at me with wide eyes.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she quickly said, clearly embarrassed and avoiding eye contact.

"I think you do. Shortly after Gladis went out for her break, you came running into the nurse's office, claiming you had a sprained ankle," I said calmly, sitting back in the chair I had just left. "What I don’t understand is why. Did you want a massage?" I asked, amused.

"We heard you were here," she admitted slowly, having been caught in her lie.

"We?" I muttered, noticing how Susan's eyes widened in surprise, as if she had let something slip. She quickly glanced toward the door of the nurse's office before looking back at me. That was enough for me.

Walking to the door, ignoring her worried expression, I stepped outside and found seven other girls standing around, pretending to be busy as soon as they saw me.

"Sprained ankles?" I asked incredulously, receiving a few nods in response.

Back in the nurse's office, Susan had already put her shoes back on and was sitting on the edge of the bed, clearly embarrassed.

Madeline? No, she's probably still too embarrassed about my 'rejection.' Kat? Definitely not. "So, Lindsey told you I was in here giving out free massages?" I asked, crossing my arms. Susan frowned, surprised. Got it.

"It was totally worth it," Susan said arrogantly, forgetting her embarrassment now that she had been caught.

Teenage girls are terrifying.

"I'm glad for you," I said, unable to help but laugh.

"Thanks. This won't happen again, right?" Susan asked, biting her lip as she stood up.

"No," I replied, still amused. "And please, don’t hurt yourselves on purpose," I added, seeing the slight disappointment in her eyes.

"You're cute, but not that cute," she said, smiling while still biting the corner of her lip as she walked toward the door.

"Wait," I said quickly before she could open the door.

"Yeah?" she asked, stopping.

"Are you part of the girls' soccer team?" I asked slowly, recalling my conversation with Kat. It couldn’t be true, right?

"No, why?" she shook her head slowly.

"You should join. You have excellent legs for it," I said seriously, despite being completely embarrassed by the words coming out of my mouth.

"Sure, why not," she replied casually, smiling once more before leaving the room.

"I can’t believe it," I muttered, putting my hand to my forehead. "Kat was right."

Thankfully, Susan must have said something to the girls waiting outside, because after her, no one else came in with a ‘sprained ankle.’

Since the next period after lunch was free, I stayed in the nurse's office.

"So, my husband, who was a police officer back then, got shot in the shoulder," Gladis was telling me one of her stories when the nurse’s office door suddenly burst open. A boy, panting and obviously worried, stood there. "We don’t know what's wrong with him," he said, stepping aside to let two other classmates carry in a third, who was sweating profusely and seemed to be having some kind of seizure.

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Author Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

With that said,

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thank you for reading! :D

PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.