Chapter Two-Hundred and Seventy-Three
Claire gave John a kiss at their lockers, pulling his flannel off of his shoulders and swinging it onto her own before he left for his shop class. "Love you, Sugar."
John chuckled, turning to his class as he thought about her wearing his shirt. "Love you too, Sweets."
John opened the shop door, pulling on his leathers and grabbing a helmet before he walked over to the stick welder. He picked up a rod, and started on his latest project. He soon became engrossed in the buzz and heat of the welder, the sweat that dripped from his brow, the green glow of the light through his mask, the scent of his sweat and the molten metal mixing in his nose. He jumped as a harsh hand clamped onto his shoulder, turning to see Timothy behind him. "Fuck off!" He barked, curling his lip to show his sharp canine tooth.
"Murderer." Timothy sneered, poking John in the chest. "You killed those people in the rings. It's your fault that they're dead."
John's pupils dilated for a moment, the boom of a gunshot echoing in his ears. "I did what I had to." He glared at the bigger kid, yelping in pain when Timothy's hand collided with his jaw.
Timothy kicked the back of John's knee, making him fall to the concrete floor before he placed his boot over his ear. "Don't get smart with me, Jackass." He shifted his weight to put more pressure on John's head, smiling at the cry of pain that escaped him as he felt something in his jaw shift. "I could kill you right now."
"Tim!" Shouted Mr. Maxam, pulling the brute off of the recovering teen, as the smaller boy cried in pain on the floor. "Principal's office. Now!" He shoved the teen out of the shop, returning to John's form on the floor and lifting him up to his feet before he took him into his office to recover for a moment. "You're okay." He soothed, brushing John's hair back from his ear only to see the little bit of blood on his scalp. "It's alright, we'll get you fixed up." He wet a paper towel under the drinking fountain, dabbing it over the bloody hair to clean the wound.
John wiped his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut as Mr. Maxam moved his head to get a better view of the cut. "Jacob… us-ed to do that…" he struggled to even out his breath, biting down on his gum as Mr. Maxam rubbed some Neosporin into the cut.
He nodded, sitting beside John to help him fight back the demons trying to overtake him. "Just relax, John. You'll be okay. You're safe now." He hated to think about what this kid had gone through, the pain he'd felt, the fear he'd lived with. "You're okay." He draped an old blanket over the kid's shoulders, rubbing his arms to help soothe him.
Clarissa stomped down the halls to the school, shoving the door to Mr. Anderson's office open. "What the hell happened to my son?" Her eyes were like the fires of hell, as she glared at the principal. "He has a cut on his head that looks like it was made by something in his shop class, and he's been shaking like a chihuahua since he got home. He won't eat, and any time he tries to, he throws it up again."
Principal Anderson sighed, wishing that the trauma would have stopped by now. "He was tackled by Timothy Bennet in shop today… Timothy has been suspended for three weeks, and will not graduate with his class. He happened to pull a move on Johnathan, that his biological father used to use as a punishment."
Clarissa's eyes widened, her hands balling into fists at the knowledge. "He tried to crush his skull." She shook her head, turning toward the door. "Tell the Bennet's that we're going to sue for the trauma."