AN: Ahh this chapter was really hard for me to write, I'm not exactly sure why.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

For two weeks Lovino worked his ass off. He studied hard and took multiple tests and extra courses, determined to get out of this damn school if it killed him. And considering his current extra courses, it just might.

He had pulled his grades up, and despite the lack of internet-he'd actually earned A's on a few essays. Not to mention there was a surprising lack of Antonio in Lovi's life. Without Toni there to bother him and raise his stress levels, he'd be able to get some damn homework done. And possibly, possibly, a fucking nap.

But Lovino's good luck didn't last.

Tuesday morning he received a note in math. The scrawl on it was easily recognizable as his counselors. Lovi studied it quickly before throwing it away and grabbing his stuff.

"Lovino to the second office, please. We need to discuss a problem with credits."

Shit shit shit.

The Italian had been expecting something horrible, such as an extra math class on top of the two he was currently taking. But what Mrs. Zally told him was far, far worse.

Physical Education. Or, as Lovi called it, Literal Hell.

He'd never been one for outdoor "fun" and considering his school didn't offer the one sport he was good at (soccor) he'd never tried out for a team or taken a P.E. class.

And now he was being forced to take one for the rest of the year-or he wouldn't graduate.

Changing into the P.E. uniform was easy but as soon as he hit the gymnasium floor, In celebration of his new course, Lovino took a volleyball to the frontal lobe.

He sunk to the gym floor spitting and cursing like a cat that had been dunked into water. His first reaction was to beat the shit out of the person that had thrown the ball. But, upon realizing who it was, he attempted to calm himself.

Mathew, Alfred's twin brother, stood over the smaller brunette and waved his arms around randomly, turning red. He was the younger twin, smaller, and virtually non-existent in the shadow of his popular older brother. Most people didn't notice the boy was in their class.

Until they got a damn volleyball to the head.

"Are you okay? Oh gosh geez-I, I'm so sorry Lovino! Do you need help up? Should I get the nurse?"

"Fuck,fucking-Mathew back up I'm fine Jesus fucking Christ. I caught it with my face-goddammit-not your fault-ouch-fuck."

He stood, holding his head, and turned to Alfred's brother, throwing him a smile. "I'm fine, I'll go to the nurse myself. Thank you, go away now."

"Shit-I mean! Sorry, you-you're bleeding! Uh! Uh..!" The blonde turned towards the teacher, who was watching the situation unfold through a look of amusement.

The man spoke loudly, loud enough that the entire room heard him bellow, "Vargas, you're off for the day. Go home, kid, you look like shit."

"My fucking makeup is all ruined, right?" Lovi lashed back, angry at the chorus of laughter that followed his teachers orders. Everyone quieted at that, momentarily confused by the obvious sarcastic remark.

"Nice, Mattie." He heard Alfred whisper. The crimson in Mathew's face was now spreading to his ears.

Not going to comment.

Not even going to fucking comment.

Lovino stumbled back to the locker rooms, warding off Mathew's persistent presence by promising to call his mother. Both of his parents were at work and neither would have approved of him coming home early. He distinctively remembered a time that he had called his mother for a ride home and she had accused him of feigning illness-that is, until he threw up all over her car's fancy interior.

He knew calling would do no good.

After the twin headed back to class, Lovi changed into his regular clothing and washed the blood out of his hair. Slinging his backpack on, he exited the building and headed in the direction of his apartment complexes.