I shoved the last of my books in my locker, desperate to get to lunch. It was finals week, and every student was suffocating in a chokehold of studying, lack of sleep, and missing said sleep while taking the exam they had studied ever so hard for.

How did that last problem go? Was a supposed to figure the fifth root before or after that ridiculous fraction? I hope the answer was 87. I thought to myself, and to say I was confused would be an understatement.

"Benjamin Thomson, to the guidance counselor's office," the overhead speaker echoed, breaking my train of thought.

It was no shock to me, seeing how Ben always managed to dig himself into a ditch of trouble. But for whatever reason, my curiosity got the best of me. I decided lunch could wait and walked on the path I knew lead to the office, hoping maybe to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Maybe even hear a snippet of the counselor reprimanding him.

I passed the nurse's office on the way, and did a double-take. Sitting in one of the chairs was Marcel. He was a stereotypical nerd, but he was cool and wasn't really one to get bullied. We used to be good friends, but somewhere alone the way we slowly stopped talking. He was holding an ice pack over his right cheek, and a tissue was stuffed into his nose.

Uh-oh.

He looked up, and smiled in my direction. I smiled back, but happiness was the last thing I felt. Marcel was a nice guy, and whatever injuries he had didn't look accidental. If Ben was the reason for this...

I kept walking, almost to the office. When I was within earshot, I listened. As expected, the counselor was speaking quite firmly to Ben.

"I don't know how many times you've come in here Ben. Is there even a purpose for this foolishness anymore?" he questioned. There was a short pause, but he continued.

"You can't keep doing this stuff. Now your actions are affecting other people. You were better off pulling your silly pranks last year," he continued, reminding me of some of the things he had done. Like one time last year, he was a junior, and I was a sophomore. We were in class, and he asked me to pass a note to someone across the room. I waited for the teacher to turn around, and asked the closest person to pass it on. However, that particular person had horrible timing and got caught. Thankfully, he was let off with a warning when the teacher found out it was Ben's doing.

Now he was a senior and I was a junior. He always targeted the grades below him, which explains why Marcel was the victim this time.

Suddenly uninterested in Ben's usual pathetic act, I turned to leave. Just as I was about to turn the corner, a familiar face passed by. None other than Marcel's brother, Harry, who didn't exactly look happy at the news.

I turned right back around, waiting until he had disappeared into the office before eavesdropping some more. The counselor was cut off by a booming voice.

"What's wrong with you? Are you ever gonna grow up? You're such a child, Ben!" he yelled.

"Harry, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the counselor calmly asked. But it was no use. Harry had a temper, and everyone knew it.

"When are you gonna teach this kid something he'll remember?" he shot back.

"This isn't your responsibility, Harry. We've got it under control."

There was a short pause, but the silence was unbearable.

Harry spoke up again, "Look. Marcel is my brother. Do something about this, or I will," he threatened, seething with anger.

"I have it under control. Please go to lunch."

Stomping footsteps filled the hallway, warning me to hide. I slipped into an empty classroom before he could see me and watched his every move. It was always a show to see Harry react to something, whether he was cracking up at a joke or putting his foot down to people like Ben.

I waited until he was at a good distance before I was on my way. When I finally got to my usual table, I just told my friends I had been looking for a lost study sheet. But even when the topic changed, I couldn't get the whole situation off my mind.

~~

I was driving home, my conscience tugging towards an idea at the back of my mind. I didn't want to, but I knew I would live with some kind of guilt otherwise, so I went through with it. I pulled into the nearest drugstore and got a get-well card, signed my name on it and sealed it shut. I debated on whether to mail it or deliver it personally, but decided on the latter. Seemed more meaningful. I drove off to his house, remembering his address from middle school.

I pulled into the driveway of the familiar house, hoping they hadn't moved since last time. I got out of the car and walked up to the porch, hesitantly knocking on the door. I was nervous, I didn't want to be awkward. Harry answered the door.

"Uh, hi. Would you mind giving this to Marcel for me?" I held out the card. He looked at it, then back at me.

"What's it for?"

"I just felt bad about what happened today. I thought I'd get him a card."

He smiled at that, then gestured inside.

"Do you wanna give it to him yourself? I'm pretty sure he's not busy."

"Sure." my stomach started tying in knots.

"He'll be happy to see you. You remember where his room is?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

I looked around, this place had barely changed since last time. I smiled at the memories that flooded my mind.

I eventually made my way to his room, taking a few deep breaths before knocking. I could only pray that this wouldn't be awkward.

"Come in!" he called over some music.

I cracked open the door, poking my head in before actually entering.

"Hi, it's me," I smiled at him. He had changed out of his school clothes and washed the gel out of his hair. Take off the glasses, and I swear him and Harry were identical.

"Oh, hey. What brings you by?" he greeted, pausing the music.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing. Was that Imagine Dragons?"

"I'm doing better, thanks. And yeah. Why?"

"That's good. And they're my favorite band!" I smiled again.

"I remember," he grinned, "You can sit if you want. Sorry it's a little messy," he shoved some textbooks aside to clear a spot.

"Here, this is for you," I handed him the card, sitting down across from him. Now that I was closer to him, I could see the slightly swollen purple area below his eye and the patch of gauze over his nose. How could he manage to be so happy when someone punched him in the face just hours earlier?

He opened the card, smile getting bigger with every word he read.

"The card definitely helped. I feel better already," he looked back up at me.

"Good! Looks like it hurts though," I frowned.

"My cheek doesn't hurt too bad. Doctor said I almost broke my nose though. That hurts the worst, but only if you touch it," he shrugged.

"I'm really sorry. Is there anything I can do?" I asked.

"Nah, you're fine. I don't wanna take up your time."

"Yeah right! I'd rather hang out with you than study for dumb old exams. How many do you have tomorrow?" I asked, trying to look at the books he had opened.

"Just one, World History."

"I have that tomorrow too! I can help you study, if you want," I suggested.

"That'd be great," he smiled.

"Alright," I started, opening to our chapter, "who painted the ceiling of St. Peter's Basilica?"

The next few hours was basically laughing more than actually studying, but it was a great time, just like it used to be. We were interrupted, though, by my phone going off.

"My mom texted me saying it's time for dinner. I guess I have to get going," I frowned a little.

"Alright. Thanks for stopping by. Had fun," he grinned, getting up to walk me to the door.

"Me too. We should do this more often."

"Sounds good!"

"See you tomorrow," I waved, smiling back at him as I walked out to my car. I was about halfway down the driveway before I heard him call for me to wait. I turned back around, and saw him jogging towards me.

"What is it?"

"I didn't really need you to stay," he blurted.

"Okay..?"

"No, no, I didn't mean that. I mean I didn't need you to stay, I just wanted you to."

"I don't understand."

"Just- no. Never mind. Sorry," he turned to go back inside, but I stopped him.

"No, I want to know! What's up?"

"I mean you didn't have to stay to help me study. I was already done studying for it, but I'm glad you did stay."

"I'm glad I stayed too, I had fun. We could have studied something else if you were done with that subject."

"T-that's not the point. I really appreciate you coming over. I miss hanging out with you. I like you."

"Well I like and miss you too!" I smiled, "That's why we said we'd do this again."

"That's not what I mean," he mumbled, looking down. I was about to ask what the heck he really was talking about, but it clicked.

"Wait... you like me?"

"Yeah. It doesn't matter though. I just thought you should know."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're pretty, smart, funny, and one of the sweetest people I know. I didn't want to be the creepy friend that has a crush on you without saying anything, so I thought I'd let you know before you found out from someone else," he admitted, almost ashamed.

"Marcel... I-"

"Don't feel the same way? I know. Not news to me," he laughed at himself, shaking his head.

"Let me finish!" I spat, not meaning to sound harsh, but he kept jumping to conclusions. He looked down at me, surprised at my tiny outburst.

"I was going to say that you're one of the sweetest and smartest people I know too. I would love to go out with you," I admitted.

He looked shocked, and didn't say anything for a bit.

"You're serious?"

"One hundred percent," I nodded.

"But don't you have a ton of other guys to choose from? I don't really know how it works."

"Well, for starters, you've been one of my best friends since middle school, regardless of how much we've talked since then. And even if any guys happened to like me, I'm sure none of them would be as great as you."

"But... a girl like you never ends up with a guy like me."

"I'm starting to wonder if you really want to go out with me. You keep making excuses," I laughed. Why was he so worried?

"I do, trust me. It's just that I never expected you to like me too."

"Look, we're all people. I am no higher than you. Don't act like you don't deserve a relationship."

"I feel like I don't deserve someone as great as you, though."

I took a step closer to him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Now you're just being silly." I whispered, leaning in and placing a small kiss on his lips. When I pulled away, he looked dumbfounded. I giggled. If I hadn't known better, I'd think he'd just seen God.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, snapping back into reality. He had a huge grin on his face, and I felt his hands pull my waist just a bit closer to him.

"You." I smiled, sliding my hands from his shoulders to the back of his neck. He chuckled lightly before pulling me into another kiss.

"Get it bro!" a voice called, making us jump. Lo and behold, Harry stood in the doorway, laughing at our shocked faces. Marcel groaned.

"Can I help you? I'm busy."

"Mom says dinner is ready. I just lost my appetite though," he teased, making barf faces before shutting the door. Marcel's face had gone red, and I couldn't help but laugh at it all.

"I'm sure I've already made you late for your dinner. You should get going now," he said worriedly, suddenly losing whatever confidence he had as he took a few steps back.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow. Until then..." I held out my arms to give him a hug. Before I left, he attempted to kiss me again.

"Ow!"

"You ok?"

"Yeah, our noses must have hit."

"Guess we'll have to wait until that heals up then," I grinned.

~~

"Hey Mom?"

"Yes?"

"If I tell you something, can you promise not to get mad?"

"I can promise to not yell."

"Alright... well I got in a fight at school today."

"Daniel!"

"I'm sorry! But this one guy was being a jerk to Allison and I got sick of him!"

"Come here, did you get hurt?"

"I got punched in the nose, but that's it really. Uncle Harry took me to the doctor's after school and the doctor said I almost broke it, but it'll be alright."

Deja Vu hit me harder than ever.

"Did you tell your father?"

"Yeah, but he just started laughing and told me to come tell you."

"Well honey, I have some advice for you. Don't kiss Allison, or any girl, until your nose is completely healed."

"Mom! Don't talk to me about this!"

"I'm telling you as a friend, not as your mother. Just trust me on this one."

"Why?"

"Ask your father."