Up against the wall, I started to laugh and cough.

"Hmm. I'll give you credit, you're the first person to enjoy getting beat up. Masochist, I presume?"

"I'm laughing at something else, actually." I grinned.

"Really? And what would that be?" He asked.

"I'm sick."

His eyes widened. Or his pupils shrunk, it was hard to tell with this boy. "What?!"

"That hacking I'm doing? Not because I'm getting winded." I coughed again. "There's a sickness running in my veins, one that has no cure. If I had to guess, your biggest mistake would be not realizing sooner. That or your stupid bowl cut."

"I WILL [EFF]ING MURDER YOU!" He shouted.

"Whatever." I said.