The house was quiet and sunlight seeped gently through the open window. It was just a little too chilly to let the outside air in, but I didn't care. I pulled the comforter closer around my neck, wishing Warren was with me so I could benefit from his natural warmth.
In more ways than one, I thought to myself bitterly.
My mind was drawn back to those unfortunate events once more. No matter how hard I tried to ignore them or to distract myself, it kept coming back to the fight with Rebecca and Duke, the detention room with Warren, Spex's office…
I flinched instinctively at the memory. Spex was a good nurse and only one of the few administrators at school that I felt genuine respect for. She did not take kindly, however, to receiving orders from her patients.
"Splint it," I demanded immediately, as Warren placed me gingerly on the cot against the wall. The pain was becoming increasingly unbearable, and I knew that we would have to address it fast.
"Pardon?" Spex had replied politely, but the irritation in her voice creeped through. Her eyes assessed the damage with her x-ray vision before shaking her head emphatically.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Stone, but we will not be splinting that shin bone of yours," She stated, "It's most certainly broken, and you need a hospital," Spex turned to Warren, "As soon as possible."
I was acutely aware of Warren's groan, as he leant against the neighboring wall and rubbed his face with his hands.
"Nora…" He growled, voice trailing off. Was it just my pain-induced delirium, or did he sound very worried for me? I ignored him for the moment.
"No," I insisted, "It needs to be splinted, and now."
Spex's eyebrows raised in surprise, and irritation clearly shone through her expression. Before she could continue I cut her off.
"It needs to be splinted," I hissed through clenched teeth, the pain grating on my nerves and powers beginning to bubble up again. "Because if it isn't set right, and soon, the bone will grow back incorrectly."
Warren let his hands drop from his face and looked at me in surprise.
"Since when did you become a medical expert?" He asked, half sarcastically. I tried not to let myself snap at him, as I had already asked more of him that night than was truly reasonable.
"This is not my first time breaking something," I replied flatly, willing my powers to settle. They always flared when I was in dire situations. Or in excruciating pain.
"My powers make me heal fast," I explained, "Much faster than is normal. And tonight, since they are… just under the surface of my control," I grimaced, "They tend to make me heal at an especially accelerated rate. By the time I even get to a hospital, the bone will already have started to melt back together."
I hoisted my injured leg onto the table with a groan. I turned to Spex.
"And I would prefer not to have to get it surgically fixed later, just because it wasn't splinted right away," I concluded. Spex stood for a moment, rubbing her chin. I could see her x-ray vision assessing my leg, and other parts of the body – she must have seen my report was true (no doubt she could see the other telltale signs of old breaks in my bones). A swift nod and she began to rummage the cabinets to gather the supplies.
Warren fidgeted nervously, standing straight now as Spex swiftly laid out the materials on a metal tray table, years of practice in her profession evident in her movements.
"It's gonna hurt," He stated, although it seemed like he meant it as a question. I could feel cold beads of sweat start to form in the middle of my back. I managed to smile up at him and nodded.
Warren bit his lip, then sat down on the examination table with me. I turned until my back was to him, and laid my head on his lap, my legs outstretched on the tabletop so Spex could work. She swiftly cut away at the seam of my jeans, leaving the leg exposed. It was starting to turn an ugly shade of mottled purple in some places. I took a deep breath.
"Don't let me bite her, okay?" I requested as Warren placed a hand on my forehead. He nodded down at me, and I closed my eyes as Spex's hands began their work and the pain seared through me.
I shivered at the memory, and reminded myself it wasn't the first time – or the last – that I would feel the pain of broken bones shifting, or muscles tearing.
Luckily for me, the pain was now all but gone, save for when I put too much weight on the left foot.
It really is healing quick, I thought, reasoning it was probably because I had so much of my powers coursing through me that night.
Definitely too much of my powers, I thought, and rolled in my bed to face the wall, the bulk of the brace on my left leg awkward as I moved.
I no longer felt like crying. There had been enough of that when I had arrived home that night from school, disheveled and distressed. My parents were less than happy to see me sent home from school for misbehavior, but even more upset when they learned the whole truth. It was a long night – a short explanation on my part, but the lengthy lecture that followed had included much yelling and cussing (on both my and my parents' accounts). My siblings, at first interested in the raucous, soon melted away into the other rooms of our home to avoid the conflict.
Naturally, I was grounded. For how long, I couldn't say, but I was sure it would be until I was at least thirty.
I buried my mouth into the comforter balled up in my fists. Deep down, I was still anxious, but mostly I felt resolved – I knew it would turn out like this eventually, and I wasn't sorry for what I had done, I guess only how I did it. I regretted lying to my friends, and especially to Warren.
Anxiety threatened to well up in me at the thought of him. Was he hurt? Was he angry at me? Would he forgive me?
Will I even see him again? I wondered.
I liked Warren Peace – a lot more than I had ever liked anyone else on the face of the earth. But no matter how much I liked him (or anyone for that matter) I had to stand by my principles, as I always had.
Were my principles really so special, I wondered bitterly to myself? As selfish as it was, I knew the truth – ever since Bellfast, my defining principle had been to make a way for myself, at any cost, because no one else would do it for me. I didn't want to, and shouldn't have to, wear the hero's mantle. More than anything, I wanted freedom from the stricture of that role and society's expectations. And after my expulsion from Bellfast and fall from grace, abandoned by friends and disappointed by family, that principle was all I had.
But what are all the principles in the world compared with Warren Peace? A small voice in my head argued.
I abruptly buried my face in the pillow and stifled a scream.
If I was being honest, I was selfish by nature. And although few things in the world mattered to me this much, when I wanted what I wanted, I would do anything to get it.
In a way, I argued with myself, this was a good thing, as I had made more genuine friends than if I had continued to play the hero's role. I had experienced life from the sidekick's perspective – the sweet relief from pressure, performance and responsibility – along with all the injustice and unfairness that came along with it.
Heroes are so privileged, I thought bitterly, turning in bed again.
Although I had told myself I was resolved with whatever happened, I found myself tamping down anxiety. I was still in trouble with my parents (but at least my siblings were giving me a very wide berth, and probably for the best). However, my meeting with Powers that night had left me worried about what she would decide was fit punishment for my transgressions – Powers had left me not knowing what my consequences would be. I thought back to our conversation in her office.
My mind was frazzled enough by the time I got to the Principal's office, and the pain had put me on edge. My tongue was probably a little looser than it should have been when I sat in the plush leather chair opposite Powers' desk.
Before she could demand answers, the proverbial levee broke and words came rushing out of my mouth rapidly. I argued that I technically didn't do much wrong – sure, I had altered my transcript, but I was more than willing to demote myself (we both knew that's what it was, I had told her) and I had taken all my courses with passing grades. I showed up to practice and participated in clubs, and didn't get into trouble (Powers had raised a brow, and I remembered the couple incidences with Biggs, then meekly added, "...much.") I told her I was just a normal teenager trying to balance a chaotic life.
My confession turned more hurried as I felt tears threaten to well up in my eyes. God, I hated crying! I willed them to stop so I could continue. Powers sat silent, hands folded on her desk as she regarded me coolly.
"Why should I have to be a hero? Why do I have to be the center of attention, the person carrying the team, the one responsible for the citizen – I'm just a person," I stated, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I just want to be myself and not what this school or coach or anyone else wants me to be. I am just me!"
I was acutely aware that I was beginning to raise my voice, and the hot wetness on my cheek told me the first tear had spilt over. The pain was thrumming up my leg, less than before, but a pulsing headache was setting in. I had to argue my case now, because fatigue and pain was beginning to make me lose track of my thoughts.
"And – and I don't really care if you call me a hero, or sidekick – or even a villain! I should be able to choose my own friends, my own interests, and hell – even my own classes!"
I took a deep breath, angry now, rising up from my chair. "And plus, I never ever used my powers! Not in gym or at practice or at school – well, I mean, I guess I did tonight," I admitted idly, "But Rebecca hit me first and totally deserved-"
"Ms. Stone – stop," Powers cut me off, palm raised, although her expression seemed somewhat amused. I stopped talking, breathing heavily, the pain in my leg and body making it difficult to stand. I plopped back down in the chair and slumped forward, elbows on knees. We were quiet for a moment.
"I just want to be myself," I concluded in a quiet voice, without looking up. Surely Powers would understand, she had to. This was all I could do to make her realize how important this was to me. Why I had risked everything – reputation, another expulsion, friends, my parents' wrath and disappointment – to have the freedom to be myself, unburdened from a hero's pressures.
I scrubbed my wet eyes with my palms. "That's not too much to ask," I stated, defiance sneaking into my voice as I lifted my head and met Powers' gaze. She was silent and seemed to be assessing and calculating the situation. I held my breath, too tired to think of the possible outcomes, and instead simply waited for whatever her response would be.
Half a smile graced her face, and then it was gone. She picked up the office phone and began to dial.
For half a second I had dared to hope she would let the whole thing blow over. A stupid hope on my part, as seconds later I realized she was dialing my parents' home phone.
"Yes, Mr. Stone?" She said into the receiver, and shooed me away out of her office with a wave of her hand. "Hello, this is Principal Powers…"
I waited lamely in the hallway. I felt defeated – I had hoped to appeal to Powers on a personal level, but it seemed like that wasn't going to help my case. I thought about using my powers to eavesdrop through the door, but was distracted as Warren stood from his place in a waiting chair.
"What are you still doing here?" I asked, though I was secretly grateful for his presence. Anyone else would have abandoned me long ago to deal with the consequences on my own.
"Your leg is broken," He replied, dark hair falling into his eyes as he gestured down at my braced leg. "I thought you might need a hand to hobble around, or whatever."
I smiled at him. I tried not to let myself hope that this was a sign of his forgiveness, or even tolerance. But his presence comforted me on what was probably the second-worst night of my life.
"Thanks," I muttered, letting him help me into a chair. He wrapped my arm over his shoulders – so broad, I thought to myself – and let me down gently into the soft leather. I could smell his sweat, and realized in all the commotion, I had not thought about his injuries.
"Are you all right?" I asked, eyes turned upwards. He remained standing, gaze turned away as I admired his profile. His angular features were offset with soft, round lips – perfect for kissing, I thought. I noted a soft blue tinge on his jaw, the beginnings of a bruise. I felt guilt sweep through me. "I guess Duke hit you pretty hard."
Warren scoffed, and touched his chin idly. He turned a glittering eye to me.
"Really? I don't remember," He said nonchalantly, rubbing his bruised chin, "He must not hit that hard."
I allowed myself a giggle, and impulsively reached out a hand to Warren's. I laced my fingers through his warm ones. He tensed momentarily – had I crossed a line again? – and then he relaxed, but didn't squeeze my hand in return. He remained standing, but I didn't look up to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Warren," I stated, although it felt lame to say it. I was suddenly starting to feel panicked, as if my time with him was running out. I willed myself not to cry again, for the millionth time that night.
"I don't know what's going to happen, so I want you to know that… uhm… I know I hurt you and I'm really sorry," I whispered, leaning forward and letting my forehead rest on his firm abdomen. I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent and enjoying his warmth. I wondered if this would be the last time.
"Nora –" Warren started, but the office door opened abruptly and he pulled away. I looked up at Powers with trepidation – what would she say? The principal studied me, then Warren, and turned promptly back to me.
"Miss Stone, I have called for a bus to take you home," She stated. Even as she spoke, our regular driver Ron came down the hallway, hat in hand and a nervous look on his face.
I stood to my feet, wobbly and pitiful, and braced my shoulders square with Powers.
"And am I expelled?" I asked, heart pounding in my chest.
"That remains to be seen," She countered, an air of finality in her voice. My heart sunk.
I'm never coming back here, am I? I thought.
I decided there was no point to argue. The lump in my throat wouldn't let me string two words together, anyways.
Ron shifted from foot to foot nervously out of the corner of my eye. Warren stood silent, unmoving. Powers gestured with a hand down the end of the hallway, towards the front entrance.
"Goodnight, Ms. Stone."
I felt shocked, though I don't know why. I had known this day would come eventually. My feet began to move of their own accord and I limped in the direction Powers had gestured. Warren did not reach out to help me, yet somehow I did not expect him to. The inevitableness of the situation gripped me, and I allowed fate to take its course.
Ron politely held an arm out for me, and I took it without noticing. I was walking away from Warren Peace, probably for the last time. My heart turned inside my chest, and after a few more paces, I chanced a look over my shoulder.
Warren stood cemented in place, unmoving, gaze cast down the hallway towards me. Just a few steps I had taken, yet the distance seemed infinite. The hurt and anger in his beautiful dark eyes was too much for me, so I gave a weak wave and half a smile, and turned around to finish marching towards the inescapable.
It wasn't until I was seated on the bus, crushed in every way, that I had let myself cry again.
Hi! Took a while to get this one out, but I wanted it to be just right. : ) Our poor characters, ripped apart by lies and circumstance! What ever will happen next? Sure hope I don't go on a three year hiatus again, haha! See you guys soon!
