Chapter 7

The not-so-pleasant face I was talking about in fact belongs to a not-so-pleasant person. Who just happens to go by the name of Sephiroth. Who just so happens to hate my guts and live for this sort of opportunity- you know, the sort of opportunity where he runs into me, alone, outside of school and could easily kick my ass because I'm injured. Well, today was his lucky day, in any case.

"Hello, Sora," Sephiroth said, smiling elaborately.

A tiny squeak of "Hi" was all I could handle for a reply.

Now, I'm not some sort of wimp or anything, you have to understand. I just happen to know when I'm beaten. And this was one of those situations where I have lost before anything even happens. The next thing I knew, Sephiroth was reaching forward and grabbing my shirt, and the last thing I remeber was the hard pavement flying up to meet me.


I woke up exactly where I had 'fallen asleep.' Just around the corner, rather out of sight, and on the ground. I got up slowly, shaking my head to make sure things were working properly in my neck. I leaned against the wall and looked down at my clothes. Surprisingly, I did not look in much worse condition than I had this morning, though when I reached up to touch my cheek I could tell I must have been bruised there something awful. I breathed in and out, trying to get my lungs back on track, because at the current time, it hurt to take in air. He must've kicked me in the ribs after I passed out.

My breathing was back to normal (almost), though I still had tiny stabs of pain with intake of breath. Steadying myself with my hand against the wall, I began to walk. I had missed at least two classes today. They would probably call my parents.

Fuck them.

I entered the school once again and was relieved to find that the halls were empty. So 2nd period was still going. I stumbled in the bathroom, intending to check my bruised-to-hell cheek, and was surprised to find that someone was actually in there. Some dumbass kid who I recognized as the brainy nerd of every subject in existence was sitting on the sink. Smoking a joint. I considered telling him to get out of the bathroom, but I didn't want to get in an argument with some guy who's hyped up on drugs. Rasing one eyebrow in what I think was supposed to be an ironic way (I couldn't tell- my breathing was messsed up still and I wasn't exactly getting so much oxygen, so I'm not sure what I was doing) and sort of tripped/fell over to the sink.

Honestly, I couldn't believe how bad I looked upon seeing my reflection in the mirror.

My cheek was completely black with green and purple spots, and one large white area, that looked as if a bone was being shoved at the skin. But I had seen extensive bruising before and knew it was just skin discolouration. My face was caked in blood and I began to wipe it off with paper towels, muttering curses under my breath at the painful contact when I touched the skin.

"What happened to you?"

I turned to look at the joint-smoking nerd and smirked, asking, in response, what had happened to him. I had meant it to be sort of a nasty dig but it came out as an actual quiestion, much to my unhappiness, making it sound like I really cared.

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I just never knew you to be the sort of person who hung around in the bathroom smoking joints."

"And I never knew you to be the sort of person who got their face bashed in like that!"

"You don't know me very well."

The smoking nerd wrinkled up his nose in confusion, and though he was merely curious when he asked me what I meant by that a few seconds later, I replied by snapping at him to 'shut the fuck up' in a dismissive manner. He only shrugged and resumed smoking his joint.

Having decided that I had sufficiently wiped the blood from my face, I pulled out my cell phone and began to text message a friend of mine. She's not very popular and no one but the two of us were aware of our friendship- but it was there, and very real. She's always willing to help me out of a jam and would willingly use her 'make-up' skills to cover any tell-tale signs of abuse without asking how I got that God-awful bruise on my cheek or what in the hell happened to my arm.

I felt slightly bad for having to ask her to help when she was in class, because she might get caught. Unfortunately, I couldn't walk around school looking like this, so I didn't really have much choice. Not that it mattered. Looking at nerd-joint-kid's watch, I could tell it wasn't even halfway through second period. And second period meant she was in Math. And I know she doesn't like Math... Who does? If she had been in English or Music I might have let it slide and waited it out. Not that she really liked those classes, even though I'm pretty sure they're her favourites. It's just that, they are my faves, and I know I would be pissed if someone disturbed me during them.

I confess my love of said subjects may or may not have something to do with the incredibly attractive girl who is also in those classes. (Protip: it does)

Selphie is such a good friend. Though it was three minutes later when I received her reply, it said, "No problem, where are you?"

'Um... the boy's bathroom.'

Selphie didn't reply. I'm not sure if it was because that's all that needed to be said or if she wasn't sure how to respond, but in any case, the smoking nerd decided it was time for him to take his leave of me.

"Well, have fun being beaten to shit. I'm going to... Go to classes. Or maybe outside... Where no cars will hit me.."

I blinked and watched him stumble out the door. Where no cars would hit him, eh? I din't mention that he was probably better off indoors. I wanted him gone, anyways.

A few mintes later, the door opened and Selphie walked in, closing her eyes as if grossed out by my unseemly condition.

"Shut up," I said and she just laughed.

"Alright, sit on the sink."

I did as I was told and she set to work, being careful not to cause anymore irritation to my skin. I noticed that she looked more troubled than usual.

"So," I said. Selphie chuckled a little. We had discovered a long time ago that small talk while helping a friend to cover up the marks of domestic violence is a little awkward. But it was even worth without. "Hmmm... How's Kairi?"

Selphie scoffed. "If you like her... ask her out. Better yet, have a conversation with her."

"Awh, Selphie... Don't be like that. You know I'm quite happy just checking her out in the hallways."

Selphie shook her head, a tiny smile playing at her lips. Truth was, if I was happy just checking her out I wouldn't ask after her and we both knew it. We also both knew that I didn't need to be dragging anyone else into my shit, so relationships were sort of out of the question for me. Usually, though, even Selphie was a little more upbeat about my bad jokes and annoying crush on her friend.

"What's wrong, doc?" I asked. "Can you not cover it up? Oh, God, don't say I'm going to have to go ugly for a day!"

Selphie did laugh, finally, a bit more freely than her constrained giggle from before. "No, no.. I'll get it covered." She looked at me and frowned at what must have been inquisitive persistence in my eyes. "Well, it's just that..."

She sighed.

"Well, okay. I'm going to take a guess and say that if this had hapened to you...Uh... Earlier. Like, yesterday, or, uh... This morning, or something... Uh... Before school..."

Selphie began to fumble with her words.

She knows what goes on in my home. I've never told her but she knows. And she's never told me she knows but it's obvious that she does. And we both know it. But still she has never mentioned it before. Not that I really mind. I don't care because I'm pretty sure that Selphie is the sort of person that would never talk about these things to spite me or make me feel bad about myself or sorry for myself.

"Um...Like... At..." Her voice quieted. "Home..." Barely above a whisper now.

"Yeah?" I prompted.

She looked into my eyes, trying to determine whether or not I was upset with her.

"...You would have asked me to help earlier," she finally continued, confident that I understood she wasn't prying. "Why didn't you? How... How did this happen? It must've been during school hours!"

Now you could assume she was prying. But I was rather surprised to realize that she wasn't by the tone in her voice. It was just concern. Which was a bit of a shock, because, while I've always considered her my friend, I've never before realized that she considered me hers as well. I always figured she just felt bad for me and that she was a kind person. Which isn't hard to believe, looking back on how we first met...