I'll Bake You Happy.

by AquasFave

Summary:

Anon, an eighteen-year-old labeled a problem child by his old school, finds himself in a weird situation as he’s thrown into a majority-dino school. Can he turn over a new leaf and improve himself for the better, or is he destined to repeat the mistakes of the past?

Chapter 1: Prologue

–Anon–

 

“ THAT’S IT!!! THAT’S IT!!!  I’VE HAD IT UP TO HERE WITH YOUR FOOLISHNESS MOUS!! ” Principal Rock shouted, his frustration palpable.

 

I leaned further back into my seat, the familiar sensations of dread and defiance washing over me. The principal's words echoed in my ears: “I’ve tried, I really did, but you keep doing this, over and over, and OVER again!”

 

With a scoff, I crossed my arms tightly, my posture rigid in defiance. “It wasn't my fault this time,” I replied, searching for the right words to defend my actions. “That… douche started it. I just acted appropriately according to the situation.”

 

“By starting a fight?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

 

“Yes,” I replied, a smirk creeping onto my face. “Maybe next time he’ll think twice before looking at me funny.”

 

Principal Rock fell silent, his hand running across his face in a weary gesture. His expression was a tumultuous mix of disappointment and frustration as if he were grappling with a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

 

He let out a heavy sigh, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Anon… why? Why are you like this?”

 

I arched an eyebrow, taken aback. “What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“Why do you keep doing this? Why do you insist on self-sabotaging? You’re a good kid, Anon. I can see the potential in you—the bright future that stretches ahead. Yet, you keep throwing it away. Getting into fights, yelling at other students and teachers like it’s your only option,” he said, frustration evident in his voice.

 

“You’re better than this, I know you are. So why won’t you change?” he pressed, his eyes pleading for an answer.

 

I scoffed, dismissing his concern with a wave of my hand. “Why do you care so much? It’s not like you have any real obligation to me.”

 

“I care because…” His voice softened, almost trembling with emotion. “You’re like a son to me, Anon. All of my students are like my children. When I see one of them suffering, it feels like I’m failing in my role as their principal.” 

 

“Oh, so this is just about your reputation? You’re worried about how it looks on you, huh? I should have figured as much,” I retorted, tilting my head away in disdain.

 

He sighed deeply, clearly wounded. “Anon, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

 

I remained silent, fixating on the worn-down shelves behind him, cluttered with faded trophies and framed photos that held memories of better days.

 

“Please, Anon. Just talk to me,” he urged, his voice steady yet gentle. “Is this all some pent-up frustration? Or is it something deeper? Is this about home—”

 

“Don’t! Don’t you dare say it!” I erupted, the tension spiraling. 

 

He murmured something under his breath, perhaps a prayer or an expression of defeat, and then addressed me again, “Anon… you can talk to me. I may be the principal, but at the end of the day, I’m a father first.”

 

“Yeah? Well, you’re not my father, and we’re not family,” I shot back, feeling the walls close in around me as I leaned back, “So if you're done with this….” I waved a hand dismissively, “let’s skip to the part where I take my suspension and get out of here.”

 

Principal Rock’s shoulders slumped as he looked down, the weight of his responsibility palpable. When he looked back up, his expression was grave. “That’s the thing, Anon. You’re not getting suspended.”

 

“Pff, let me guess—alternative school?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

 

He shook his head slowly, the disappointment etched on his face. “I’m afraid not, Anon.” He let out a heavy huff. “Anon… you’re expelled.”

 

I smirked, “Expelled? You must be joking. This is some kinda prank, is it?” 

 

His expression remained unwavering, serious. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

 

‘Oh shit.’

 

“Oh shit indeed,” he replied, his voice steady.

 

I jumped to my feet, panic rising in my chest. “Come on, Principal Rock, you can’t be serious about this!” 

 

“Dead serious, Anon. I warned you that your previous behavior could lead to expulsion, but you never listen. You’ve pushed the boundaries too far.”

 

“Rock, please, there has to be something you can do!” I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice.

 

“No, Anon. My hands are tied. The decision comes from the board. I’m sorry, Anon, but you did this to yourself.”

 

“Bullshit!” I slammed my hands on the weathered wooden desk, the sound echoing in the sparsely decorated office. “All of this is bullshit, and you know it.”

 

“For once, Anon, I agree with you; this is bullshit,” Principal Rock shot back, his frustration palpable. “But this is your bullshit. Every bit of it has been your doing, and it's not like you even feel remorse for it.” He rose from his chair, visibly agitated, “Tell me, what do you gain from beating up defenseless students, huh? What’s the payoff? Pleasure? A sense of power? What is it?”

 

“I... I... I don’t know.” I sank back into my seat, feeling small and overwhelmed, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “… and honestly, I don’t want to talk about it either.” My gaze drifted away, unable to meet his piercing stare.

 

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Each tick of the clock on the wall seemed to amplify the tension, a relentless reminder of the time passing without resolution. The awkward minutes crawled by as I desperately searched for words, any words, to diffuse the situation.

 

Finally, breaking the oppressive silence, I managed to ask, “What happens now?” My voice came out more defeated than I intended.

 

Principal Rock crossed his arms, “I messaged one of my good buddies and worked something out for you. You're transferring to another school. Volcano High . It’s in Dinofornia.”

 

“DINOFORNIA?! That’s across the country!” I exclaimed, “You can’t be serious, Principal Rock.” 

 

Principal Rock leaned back in his chair, the worn leather creaking under his weight as he knitted his thumbs together, “I tried to apply you to a few schools near here, but none would take you. You know, with your track record and all.” His voice carried a weight that hinted at the many conversations they’d had before.

 

Of course.

 

“But why Dinofornia? I don’t want to go there with those meteor dodgers everywhere.” My words tumbled out.

 

He pointed an admonishing finger at me, his brow furrowing in disapproval. “Watch it.”

 

“And what about my friends? You’re just gonna take me away from them.” The thought sent a pang of dread through my chest.

 

“Anon, please. You know as well as I do that you’re not the most approachable person. These ‘friends’ of yours are more like your friends out of fear.” His candidness stung, but I couldn’t argue with the truth of his words.

 

I frowned, the realization settling in—he was right. Those guys weren’t true friends; they were just distractions from the drudgery of everyday life.

 

“And besides, a little time away from here could do you some good,” he added, his tone softening slightly.

 

“And where am I supposed to sleep?” I countered.

 

“Already taken care of.” He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with the intensity of his conviction. “Got you an apartment on the side of the city. It’s not exactly luxurious, given that it’s all I could afford on a principal's salary, but it's something.”

 

“Okay, and how am I supposed to deal with my parents? I doubt they’ll be pleased that their son got moved halfway across the country.” 

 

Principal Rock's expression shifted, his face softening with empathy. “Do you want your parents to go with you, Anon?”

 

“..…no,” I muttered under my breath.

 

He reclined back in his chair, the tension easing from his posture. “Then there you have it.”

 

In an unexpected motion, Principal Rock slid open one of the drawers of his desk, rummaging through papers and old pens before finally surfacing with a small card. 

 

“Happy birthday,” he said, sliding it across the desk to me. “It’s a debit card. I’ll send you some money for groceries every once in a while.” His tone was both official and tender.

 

I gingerly reached for the card, my fingers tightening around it as if it were a lifeline.

 

“Why? Why are you doing all this?” The question slipped out before I could hold it back, bewilderment coloring my voice.

 

Principal Rock stood up, circling around the desk to stand beside me. His expression softened into one of warmth and genuine care, and he laid a firm, reassuring hand on my shoulder. 

 

“Like I said before, you’re like a son to me, Anon. I’m not saying this because I don’t care; I’m saying this because you matter more than you think you do.” 

 

A lump formed in my throat, and my eyes stung with unbidden moisture. I fought against it; tears were a sign of weakness I had learned to suppress, but in that moment, the walls I had built around my emotions began to crack.

 

Without a word, I abruptly stood up and embraced Principal Rock in a hug that surprised both of us. 

 

“Hehe… Didn't know you were a hugging type of person,” he chuckled softly, his voice warm against my ear as my grip tightened around him. “Woah, easy now, you don’t want to crush this old codger now, do you?”

 

My response came out as a shaky whisper, “I—I’m sorry, it’s—”

 

“You don’t need to say anything, son. I know.” He patted my back gently, his touch grounding me in the moment.

 

When was the last time I had felt something like this? Years, perhaps. Maybe it was that time my mom hugged me after I fell at the playground, but beyond that, I couldn’t recall the last time someone had held me close.

 

I finally released the embrace, looking down at the worn tiles beneath my feet.

 

“This could be what you need, Anon,” Principal Rock said, his voice steady and reassuring. “A fresh start in a new environment. A place where you can leave the old you behind and become someone better.”

 

I nodded, my frown still etched on my face. “Can… Can I call you?”

 

A playful smirk danced across Principal Rock’s lips. “Didn’t think you had a soft side.”

 

“I DON’T!!” I barked, my voice echoing against the walls of the empty office. “I just might need your number, that's all! You know, in case I lose my card or something.” I crossed my arms defensively, turning my gaze away from him.

 

“Ah, there it is,” he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Sure, Anon, sure.”

 

He reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a slip of paper, and quickly scrawled his number, “Call me every once in a while.”

 

I snatched the slip from his hand, stuffing it into my pocket with a mix of reluctance and gratitude. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

 

Principal Rock chuckled again, a warm sound that filled the otherwise stark room, before settling back into his chair, propping his hands thoughtfully on the desk. “Now, I think it's about time you pack your things. You’ve got a looooong trip ahead of you.”

 

I nodded, “Yes, Principal Rock.”

 

With a gentle smile and a wave, he said, “See ya, Anon.”

 

As I closed the door behind me, the soft click resounded down the quiet hallway. A few stragglers lingered nearby, their whispers trailing off as they glanced back at me, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation.

 

“The hell are you looking at?!” I snapped, my irritation surfacing.

 

They jumped, eyes wide with surprise, and scurried away like a bat out of hell.

 

Dumbasses.

 

I shook my head, pushing down the lingering frustration as I walked through the familiar corridors one last time, slinging my worn backpack over my shoulder. 

 

I could say I was going to miss this dump, but that would be a lie. I was honestly relieved to be leaving this hellhole behind. This school had been a wasteland of bad memories, a place that had done little more than amplify my pain. There was nothing here that I would genuinely miss... except for him.

 

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. Principal Rock had been nothing but understanding through my struggles, a steady presence in the chaos. It was a shame I had to leave him behind.

 

Just as that thought struck me, I dug into my pocket and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper, an unexpected smile breaking over my face.

 

Well, I guess I’m not really leaving him behind.

 

Chapter 2: Sugar, Spice and Nothing Nice

Summary:

A rocky start

–Anon–

 

Damn. So this is really my life now, huh?

 

I sat up, propped against the thin, lumpy mattress, staring at the popcorn ceiling of my cramped apartment. The texture seemed to ripple under the fluorescent light, while the faint odor of cheap paint lingered in the air. Honestly, everything felt surreal—like I was trapped in some bizarre dream that I could wake up at any moment, and I’d find myself back in that hellhole of a house, confined to my barren room. I could almost smell the stale stench of cigarette smoke clinging to the walls, echoing the constant bickering from my parents that filled the air like a toxic fog.

 

But thankfully, that nightmare was behind me.

 

Sitting up, I glanced over at my cluttered desk, where my alarm clock blinked brightly—about forty minutes left before school started. 

 

I guess I could eat something before school. With a sigh, I slid off the bed and made my way to the kitchen. Flicking on the light switch revealed a fairly small space, with mismatched cabinets and a dusty countertop that had seen better days.

 

Approaching the fridge, I pulled it open to find an assortment of microwavable meals cluttering the shelves. Options ranged from frozen breakfast burritos to other unidentifiable meals that looked like they needed minimal brainpower to prepare. 

 

It’s probably for the best—I’d rather not end up burning the whole kitchen trying to make scrambled eggs. I plucked a breakfast burrito from the crowded shelf, carefully unwrapping it from the packaging. With a decisive motion, I tossed it into the microwave and set the timer.

 

A minute later, the microwave beeped insistently. I hastily pulled the burrito out, excitement bubbling in my stomach, but my eagerness got the better of me. As soon as I took a bite, a jolt of pain shot through my mouth; the filling was scalding hot.

 

Shit! Why did I do that?

 

Grimacing, I carefully blew on the burrito, letting it cool for a moment before attempting another bite. This time, I savored it slowly, the flavors mingling with the chaos of my new life.

 

….

 

After a quick breakfast burrito, I fastened my worn brown boots, the laces frayed from countless uses. I slung on my green military-style jacket, a ‘gift’ from my deadbeat father—a constant reminder of his absence and irresponsibility. Every time I slipped it on, I felt the weight of his neglect, but for reasons I couldn't quite understand, I couldn’t bring myself to part with it.

 

Shaking off those unsettling thoughts, I took a deep breath and stepped out of my small apartment, the door clicking shut behind me.

 

I made my way to the bus stop, hoping that I wouldn’t have to wait long for a ride to school. Just as I arrived, a public transport bus rumbled into view, its double doors swung open, and I shuffled inside, quickly paying the fare with a crumpled dollar bill I fished out of my pocket. I made my way to the back, settling into a seat that creaked slightly under my weight.

 

As I glanced around, I caught the eyes of a few groups of saurians. Their curious, somewhat judgmental stares bored into me, and I shot them a glare of my own, one that promised I wouldn’t back down. 

 

Fucking meteor dodgers—acting like they’d never seen a human before. 

 

With a huff of frustration, I turned my attention to the window, watching the cityscape flash by—rows of cookie-cutter buildings interspersed with the occasional graffiti mural bursting with vibrant colors. I could feel the rumble of the bus beneath me and the chatter of passengers around, but I barely registered any of it.

 

I let out a deep sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. Please, just let today be easy, I silently pleaded.

 

…. 

 

Stepping off the bus, I walk down the sidewalk with my destination in mind, the school shouldn’t be too far from here according to Gruugle maps.

 

After just a little more walking the view of the building came into view, the bold words of Volcano High came through the thick fog of the school like some sort of horror movie location.

 

Maybe I could skip.

 

I quickly shake away that thought. No, I can’t just flake on my first day, I already messed up at my last school. I would rather not start doing that here. 

 

I begrudgingly shuffled my feet, my boots skidding against the uneven pavement. Each step felt like a battle, but slowly, steadily, I was making my way through the bustling throngs of students. I pushed past clusters of laughter and animated conversations, my gaze firmly fixed on the ground, intentionally avoiding the knowing glares and judgmental stares that pierced through the air.

 

Even though I attempted to shield myself from their scrutiny, their voices slithered into my ears, sharp and taunting.

 

“Dude, look! It's a human!”

 

“Why is a skinnie here? Shouldn’t they be in SkinRow?”

 

“I thought one spear chucker was enough, but now there’s another one.”

 

Just ignore it, Anon.

 

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. The thought of being perceived as weak or cowardly gnawed at my insides like a relentless tide. Against my better judgment, I mustered the courage to look up. What I saw was exactly what I had dreaded: a sea of contempt, pure and unrelenting disgust.

 

As I glanced around, a mixture of expressions caught my eye—some were curious, others outright repulsed. Yet, one figure stood out starkly among the rest: a ptero, her expression as stoic as a statue. She scrutinized me from head to toe, her gaze dissecting every inch of my being with a chilling indifference before settling on me with a look that radiated utter damnation. 

 

My jaw clenched as my chest tightened as my muscles began to tense up, the sudden urge just to lash out at anyone and everyone began to grow. It's a feeling I knew all too well.

 

I gotta get out of here, I turn around not too quickly before walking down the stairs of the school before rounding the corner of the school finding a lone bench with no one around, a perfect place to cool off.

 

I pull out my phone, seeking refuge from the anxiety bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to boil over. The screen flickers to life, and I start doom-scrolling, mindlessly swiping through a cascade of alarming headlines and flashy images.

 

After a minute or two of this, I finally feel my heart rate begin to settle. Just as I'm about to stand up from the bench, it emits a sudden crunching noise, evidently struggling to bear my weight, and without warning, it gives a heave.

 

“SHIT!” 

 

In an instant, my body collides with the cool, damp grass beneath me, and I'm left staring up at the mournful sky, a canopy of dark clouds and the faintest hints of blue peeking through.

 

“I wanna go home,” I mumble, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

 

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?!” A peachy-sweet voice calls out, cutting through my disorientation.

 

Standing above me is a cream-colored para clad in formal attire, her expression a mixture of concern and embarrassment. “I'm so sorry! I told the council to have that bench replaced,” she sighs heavily, her eyes wide with genuine worry. “Here, let me help you up.”

 

The para extends her hand toward me, but I swat it away, pushing myself to stand with a huff.

 

“I’m fine,” I grumble, brushing off specks of grass and dirt from my clothes.

 

“I'm really sorry again,” she insists, fidgeting as she tries to maintain eye contact.

 

“It's fine,” I mutter, trying to dismiss the awkwardness that hangs in the air.

 

The para, undeterred, puts on her brightest smile and straightens her posture as if to reassert her authority. “I’m Naomi, the president of the student council. And you are Anon, correct?”

 

“That’s me,” I reply, my tone laced with indifference.

 

“Wonderful! Me—”

 

“Naomi!” A voice calls out from behind her.

 

A dark brown ptero jogs into view, “Naomi, you can’t just run off like that! I—” He halts mid-sentence, taking in my presence. “Oh, so you found him.”

 

I look between the two of them, my confusion mounting. “Uh, what’s going on now?”

 

Naomi clears her throat, attempting to regain control of the conversation. “Well, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted…” She shoots the ptero with an annoyed glance. “Me and my boyfriend here, Naser, are your welcoming committee.”

 

Oh no. This is the last thing I want.

 

“We—” I raise my hand, cutting her off again. “No, no, no, I don’t need any sort of welcoming committee.”

 

“Yes, but—” She attempts to continue, her smile wavering.

 

“But nothing! I don’t need or want any sort of special welcome or anything. I just want to go about my day,” I insist, my impatience spilling over.

 

Naomi looks genuinely befuddled, clearly taken aback by my brash dismissal. She glances over at Naser, who just shrugs in response, a bemused expression on his face.

 

“Oh, uh, okay,” she falters, her eagerness crumbling slightly. Fidgeting nervously, she tries to regain her composure. “Well, um, take this.” She hands me a small pamphlet, her hand trembling just a little.

 

I reluctantly take it, inspecting its contents. The cover reads ‘Volcano High, your first steps into adulthood,’ embellished with vibrant illustrations of students engaged in various activities.

 

Flipping it open, I am greeted with a barrage of information about academic programs, extracurricular activities, and a host of clubs and events the school has to offer, all meticulously designed to sell the promise of a bright future.

 

“We at Volcano High welcome you with open arms,” Naomi beams, her enthusiasm unwavering despite my lack of response. I don’t say anything, just giving a curt nod in acknowledgment.

 

The silence stretches between us, palpable and awkward, as we stand there, each unsure of what to say next. I can tell they didn’t expect such a stark rejection of their hospitality.

 

Naser cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders as he spoke. “Well, with that out of the way, Principal Spears is expecting you. We’ll show you the way to his office.”

 

Naomi perked up, her enthusiasm evident as she nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, we’ll help you get there! As the student council, it’s our responsibility to assist new students,” she chimed in, her voice dripping with a syrupy sweet tone that felt almost rehearsed.

 

I waved them off dismissively. “No, I can find my way there just fine,” I replied, lifting the brightly colored pamphlet I had been clutching. “There’s a map in here, right?”

 

Naomi nodded slowly, her expression shifting to one of concern. “Yeah, but—”

 

I cut her off. “Good, then I should be able to get there just fine.”

 

With that, I turned on my heel, ready to make my exit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be on my way.”

 

I flipped the pamphlet open to the map, my eyes scanning for the main hallway, when I suddenly felt a jolt as a hand reached out and gripped my shoulder.

 

“Wait, you—” 

 

I spun around, heart racing, and shouted, “Don’t touch me!” My breath came out in ragged gasps, and I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of adrenaline course through me.

 

Naomi jumped back, her eyes wide with shock, and even Naser seemed taken aback, clearly unprepared for such an explosive response.

 

As their startled expressions registered in my mind, I started to calm down, my tense muscles gradually loosening. “Just… don’t touch me,” I said more softly, the sharpness in my voice fading slightly.

 

Naomi, still visibly shaken, nodded vigorously. “Y-Yeah, sorry. Um…” she said, fidgeting with her hands as she cautiously extended one towards me, revealing my device. “Your phone fell, and...” Her voice trailed off, the awkwardness hanging in the air.

 

I nodded in acknowledgment and took the device from her hand, my fingers brushing against hers for just a moment. “Uh, thanks,” I said, pocketing my phone while stealing a glance at the panicked expression still etched on Naomi’s face.

 

With a quick two-finger salute, I made my way toward the entrance of the school building, feeling the eyes of the two bore into me as I stepped through the double doors.

 

Thankfully the map was accurate as I made my way through the corridors of students finally stopping at a big door with a plaque saying principal’s office gloating above the door.

 

Guess this is it.

 

I approached the solid door, and gave it three firm knocks. “Come in,” a gruff, authoritative voice beckoned from within.

 

Turning the heavy brass knob, I stepped inside and was immediately struck by the pristine interior. The walls were adorned with an array of plaques and trophies, relics of successes from the past. In the center of the room were two plush chairs, meticulously positioned in front of a robust desk that showcased the behemoth of a man himself, Principal Spears.

 

“Sit,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

 

I complied and settled into one of the deep, cushioned chairs, feeling the fabric mold comfortably around me.

 

Spears shifted slightly in his seat, straightening his posture, his bulk casting an imposing shadow. “I think you’re already aware of why you’re here,” he said, his voice gravelly yet firm.

 

I bobbed my head in agreement, a wave of disinterest washing over me about the conversation that was about to unfold.

 

With an audible sigh, he continued, “Well then, let’s cut to the chase. Anon, you’re walking on thin ice here. I’m not sharing this to intimidate you; I genuinely want to provide you with a heads-up. The antics you pulled at your old school won’t fly here. I run a no-nonsense operation. Fighting, yelling, or any form of disruption will not be tolerated.” 

 

I nodded again, my mind beginning to wander.

 

“Seriously, Anon,” he pressed, his brow furrowing. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Rock and I advocated tirelessly to get you enrolled at Volcano High, especially given your track record. It took convincing the board, and I’d hate for you to squander this chance.”

 

Once more, I nodded, feeling the weight of his expectations settle heavily on my shoulders.

 

“So please, make the most of this opportunity to better yourself.”

 

“Yeah, got it," I sighed, “No fighting, no yelling, just don’t be a troublemaker. Is that all?”

 

“Actually, no,” he replied, softening slightly. “I wanted to express that we’re genuinely pleased to have you here, Anon.”

 

“Uh, thanks?” I shrugged, uncertain how to respond.

 

“Now, do you have any questions or concerns?” he asked, leaning forward, his interest evidently piqued.

 

I contemplated for a moment before finally speaking. “My schedule. I wasn’t told what classes I would be taking.”

 

“Ah, yes! Let me print that out for you,” he said with a nod, turning his attention to the laptop perched on his desk. His fingers danced across the keyboard, and the machine hummed to life, filling the room with soft mechanical whirring. A printer whirred to life behind him, the sound echoing as it churned out the document. After a few tense moments, he retrieved the paper, scrutinizing it briefly before presenting it to me.

 

I glanced through the list of classes, my eyes scanning the names with mild interest. English, P.E., Science, Math, and…

 

“Culinary Arts?” I exclaimed, looking up from the paper.

 

“Your principal, Rock, thought it would be a valuable class to help you develop some essential cooking skills,” Spears explained, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone.

 

“Okay, but why not Home Ec? I don’t exactly plan on becoming a chef,” I countered, skepticism dripping from my words.

 

“Because it was a last-minute decision,” he replied. “Home Economics was already full when you arrived, so Culinary Arts was the next best option.”

 

A frown creased my brow. “Is there any chance I could change it?”

 

Spears shook his head firmly, the dismissal evident in his posture. “No, unfortunately, nearly all other electives are filled at the moment.”

 

I slumped back into the plush chair, disappointment coursing through me.

 

Chuckling lightly, Spears tried to alleviate my frustration. “It’s not as bad as you think, Anon. It’s actually a pretty good class. Everything you prepare in class, you get to eat afterward. Think of it as a delicious little perk.” 

 

I couldn't help but let a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth at the prospect, even if it still felt far from ideal.

 

I perked up a little. “Ah, I see that got your attention.” 

 

‘Then I guess it couldn’t be that bad,’ I muttered, trying to convince myself as much as him.

 

Spears’ smile widened. “That’s the spirit.” He rummaged through his desk, pulling out a small plastic card adorned with my name in bold letters. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.

 

I examined the card, brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s this?”

 

“Your lunch card! Rock took the liberty of signing you up before your first day. You’ll need it for meals. Do you want me to go over how it works?” 

 

“Nah, we had something similar at my old school, so I get the gist,” I replied, my tone casual.

 

Spears nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Good to hear. Now, are there any other questions or concerns that you feel I should know about?”

 

I stood up, feeling the sudden rush of anticipation that often accompanied a change of scenery. “No, sir. I think I’m good.” 

 

“Oh, and Anon,” he called just as I reached for the door handle.

 

I turned around, slightly curious. “Yeah?” 

 

“Volcano High also offers counseling services,” he started, his tone turning more serious. “So, if you ever feel overwhelmed or need someone to talk to—”

 

I cut him off, the words tumbling out more bluntly than I intended. “I don’t need it, I’m doing just fine on my own.”

 

Spears grimaced, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Okay, but just remember, you’re always welcome to reach out for help if you change your mind.”

 

I nodded, acknowledging him, before stepping into the now crowded hallway, the sound of laughter and chatter washing over me like a wave. Closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath, grounding myself in the bustling atmosphere. Okay, so what was my first class again? 

 

English with Tsuki. 

….

Well, that wasn’t that far, walking through the doors I kept my head down slipping past groups of students and taking one of the vacant chairs in the back of the classroom. Out of sight and out of mind, I hope I’m not getting any weird stares again, I can’t stand that one bit.

 

The bell rings signifying the beginning of class, hopefully, this can pass by without issue….

 

I feel like I’m forgetting something.

 

“Anon prease come tū the front of the crass.”

 

Right, I remember now. Being the new kid meant I had to introduce myself. 

 

With a reluctant sigh, I pushed myself up from the comfort of my seat and shuffled toward the front. Each step felt heavier than the last under the weight of my own apprehensions. 

 

As I stood before the class, the teacher, who had a kind but tired expression, gestured for me to speak. “Uh, hey, I’m Anon. I just moved here. I like games and movies,” I said, my voice flat and lacking enthusiasm. 

 

That was all I had to offer—brief and to the point, leaving no room for further inquiry. 

 

Turning back toward the teacher, I asked, “Can I sit down now?” 

 

Tsuki, the teacher, waved his hand dismissively, clearly having heard enough. Just as I started to make my way back to my seat, a hand shot up from the middle of the classroom. It belonged to a raptor girl with glasses; her brown hair framed her delicate face, and her light brown scales peeked out from beneath her gray sweater. 

 

“Where are you from?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

 

I frowned slightly, the question prickling at my discomfort. “Nunya.”

 

“Nunya?” she echoed, her brow furrowing.

 

“None of your business,” I responded, my tone sharper than I intended.

 

Laughter erupted, reverberating through the classroom. I noticed the raptor girl shrink back, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as the merriment swelled around her. 

 

“Arright thatsu enough! have a seat Anon,” Tsuki interjected, his voice tinging with annoyance and an undertone of disappointment.

 

I shrugged off the scene as I made my way back to my desk, my feelings of detachment wrapping around me once more. I stared out the window, watching the leaves flutter aimlessly in the light breeze. A heavy sigh escaped my lips. 

 

I could go for a good nap right about now.

 

….

 

RING

 

I jolted upright from my desk, a wave of sleep washed away by the sudden noise that shattered the silence. The remnants of slumber clung to me, and I wiped a bit of drool from the corner of my mouth, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to my cheeks.

 

Thank raptor Christ.

 

Gathering my belongings in a hurried motion, I glanced towards Tsuki, who wore a disapproving expression that pierced through my groggy haze. Shaking off the moment, I reminded myself that next on the schedule was P.E. and bolted toward the exit. 

 

It shouldn’t be that far from here, checking the map it’s a little way down the hall. Weaving through the clusters of saurians I carefully narrow my way through the halls.

 

I see the big door that says gym overhead. Just as I’m about to reach my destination I feel a sudden bump to my left, knocking me into a wall.

 

“Dude watch where you’re going!” An annoyed-looking para calls out above me. He had shaggy hair and wore a black hoodie with dark blue ripped jeans, his scales were a deep crimson, and his eye-piercing eyes were an amber color.

 

I scowled “You’re the one that bumped into me, asshole. How about you watch where you’re going meteor dodger.”

 

“What did you just say to me?!” That seemed to get a rise out of him as he stepped closer, baring his teeth as he tightly clenched his fist. 

 

A rational person might have interpreted that display of aggression as a clear signal to retreat, recognizing the danger posed by those sharp claws and menacing fangs. However, for me, this intimidation tactic falls flat. 

 

I take a step closer puffing out my chest “I think you heard me loud and clear, dodger. Watch where you’re going or you might get hurt.”

 

“Is that a threat?” He squinted.

 

“No it's a promise dumbass, bump into me again and I’m laying you out flat.” I crossed my arms defiantly.

 

He smirked “I’d like to see you try.”

 

I extended my hand, deliberately leaving my guard down. “Come on, fucking touch me and see what happens,” I challenged, my voice laced with defiance.

 

His brow shoots up looking at my open invitation, he seems to be thinking about it as he examines every inch of my character, judging whether or not it was worth the trouble. After a minute of waiting he scoffs backing away.

 

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” he turns away.

 

I scoffed, yeah that's what I thought b–

 

Just as I thought that I felt a slight yank across my jeans, looking down I saw a sizable rip across the leg of my jeans. It's not something you could just cover-up or ignore either, this is definitely something that needed to be sewn back together.

 

I could feel a slight boil of frustration bubbling to the surface, it took almost every ounce of willpower not to just beat his ass right here and now.

 

Looking up I could see the para turn around with a snarky grin “Oops sorry this thing just has a mind of its own.” he says in a mocking tone.

 

Oh, so that’s how you want to play it.

 

Looking down I spot the culprit of the crime lazily swaying its way on the ground. In a swift motion I approached behind the unsuspecting dino and in a quick motion I gave the tail a good stomp with my boots, steel toe to be exact.

 

He let out a painful yelp as he quickly retracted his tail beside him. He does a quick one-eighty turning around, and spotting me. I could see the veins begin to show as the hamster wheel in his head began to piece everything together.

 

“Oopsie, my foot slipped,” I say in a sarcastic tone while shrugging.

 

He growls “THAT’S IT!! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD!!!” He shouts while lunging at me.

 

TWEEEET

 

“Enough!” a gruff voice called out, reverberating through the bustling hallway.

 

I turned to see an ankylosaurus striding toward us, his muscular frame evident beneath a white shirt that stretched taut across his chest. Thick sunglasses obscured his eyes, giving him an air of authority. He sported bright red shorts emblazoned with the school’s mascot.

 

Judging by his imposing presence, he was clearly the gym teacher.

 

Meaning we were definitely in trouble.

 

He positioned himself between the para and me, his expression hardening. “What’s going on here?!”

 

The para, on the defensive, pointed a claw at me. “This sk— guy stepped on my tail.”

 

The coach shot me a cautious glance, his brow furrowing slightly. “Is that true?” 

 

I crossed my arms tightly, “Yeah, because dipshit over here ripped my pants.”

 

With a swift downward glance, he noted the jagged tear in the fabric before shifting his scrutinizing gaze back to the para. The tension was palpable.

 

“Yeah, but only because you tried to start a fight,” He interjected, his voice dripping with indignation.

 

“Bullshit. You fucking rammed into me!” I shot back, my frustration bubbling to the surface.

 

“I said sorry!” he retorted, his voice rising defensively.

 

“No, you fucking didn't! Why the hell are you lying?”

 

“I’m not—”

“ENOUGH!! The both of you,” the coach interrupted, his voice thundering as he turned his attention towards the para. “Anderson, this isn’t the first time you’ve tried to pull this little stunt, so don’t lie to me.”

 

“Coach, I didn’t do it! I swear!” Anderson protested, panic creeping into his eyes.

 

“Oh really? Do I need to get the camera footage to see what really happened?” The teacher’s tone was unnervingly calm, but it sent a shiver down Anderson’s spine. 

 

Anderson’s scales drained of color as dread washed over him. “Uh, I…”

 

The coach leaned in closer, narrowing his gaze. “Do I?”

 

Anderson shuffled back, his tail dropping in submission. “No sir,” he muttered, his bravado completely evaporated.

 

“Then I advise you to straighten that attitude of yours. I’ve given you more than enough warnings. Next time I catch you jostling students around again, I’m sending you to the principal’s office.” The coach’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. 

 

Anderson nodded, visibly deflated.

 

“And you.” The coach turned his attention toward me, his finger pointing in my direction. “I advise you to watch that mouth of yours. I’ll let it slide this time since you’re obviously new here, but next time I won’t be so lenient.”

 

I shrugged, giving an annoyed grunt. “Whatever.”

 

He stepped forward, an intimidating presence looming over me. “You got an attitude problem?”

 

I returned his intense gaze without flinching. “And what if I do?” I remarked, my defiance unyielding .

 

His scales began to shift, deepening into a rich shade of crimson that almost glimmered in the fluorescent light overhead. “Then maybe the principal can help sort that out,” he said, his tone laced with an underlying tension.

 

My heart sank, a heavy weight settling in my chest.

 

‘Anon, you’re walking on thin ice here.’

 

Damn it, it's the first day, and I’m already fucking things up. I took a deep breath, feeling the air fill my lungs, but my shoulders felt heavy as if they bore the weight of my mounting anxiety.

 

“No, I’m just pi— uh, mad that my jeans are ripped, sorry sir.” I forced a smile, but it felt strained, like a façade that could crumble at any moment.

 

He studied my face intently, his eyes searching for any sign of dishonesty or hesitation. After what felt like an eternity, his expression gradually softened, the crimson hue in his scales retreating back to their more familiar, muted tones.

 

“It’s fine, just… don’t let that happen again,” he said, his voice losing some of its earlier edge.

 

I nodded, relief flooding over me, but my mind still raced.

 

He clasped his hands together, a gesture of finality. “Now, as for your pants, we have a gym uniform that you can wear. You can put that on for the rest of the day if it’ll help you feel more comfortable.” His eyes softened as he spoke, and I could sense that he genuinely wanted to help.

 

I sighed, “Thanks, uh…”

 

“Coach. Just coach,” he replied, his expression earnest.

 

I raised an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and curiosity flickering across my face.

 

‘There’s no way that’s actually his real name.’

 

He turned away, a hint of frustration creeping into his demeanor. “I’m working on getting it changed, okay?”

 

I had to resist the urge to chuckle at the sudden shift in his attitude. “Okay, coach. So, where are the changing rooms?”

 

“Follow me,” he said, leading me down the brightly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing slightly against the linoleum floor as I hurried to keep pace beside him.

 

….

 

I take it back; I'd much rather wear ripped jeans than this. 

 

The outfit I found myself in today was a glaring yellow striped shirt paired with blue shorts that flaunted the school mascot—a cartoonish creature that seemed to mock my fashion choices. 

 

This is so not my style at all. 

 

TWEEEEET

 

“Alright! Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Physical Education. I’m your teacher, Coach, and today we’ll be warming up with some light push-ups!” 

 

A collective groan rose from the class, the sound echoing in the gymnasium like an unenthusiastic chorus.

 

TWEEEET

 

“Momma didn't raise a whiner! I want all of you with your bellies on that floor, and I expect thirty of your best push-ups. Now, hup to it!” 

 

The groans grew even louder, mixed with a few grumbles of disbelief.

 

Thirty push-ups? Seriously? What is this, Pre-K? I could do that in my sleep.

 

TWEET

 

We all dropped to the floor, positioning ourselves for the dreaded exercise.

 

“You better be counting, ‘cause I sure am not. Now down, up!”

 

“ONE!” we shouted in unison, voices echoing off the gym walls.

 

“Down, up!”

 

“TWO!” 

 

“Down, up— Hey! Get those knees off the floor!” Coach barked, his eyes darting around the room. “Do it again and we’re starting over.”

 

“Now, down, up!”

 

The rhythm became a monotonous cycle, our bodies rising and falling in harmony, reaching the count of thirty. It was nothing I couldn't handle. But that couldn’t be said for others. A few groups of students were hunched over, clearly struggling, while one small purple and tan Microraptor wobbled, on the edge of collapse.

 

“Now that those bones are all warmed up, how about a game of dodgeball?” 

 

The class erupted in cheers, the energy shifting as everyone sprinted to pick their sides.

 

‘Hell yeah, dodgeball!’  

 

‘Trish, don’t throw them too hard this time.’  

 

‘Hopefully, the new kid doesn’t die too soon.’

 

I shrugged off the banter and picked a random side, my heart racing with anticipation. Coach evaluated the teams, ensuring fairness before nodding, satisfied with the placement.

 

“Now, what’s the number one rule of dodgeball?” 

 

Everyone exchanged puzzled glances, a silent question mark lingering in the air.

 

Coach grinned widely, “Have fun!”

 

With that, the whistle blew, and chaos erupted—a cacophony of laughter and shouts mixed with the sharp sound of rubber balls slapping against the gym floor. Red dodgeballs zipped through the air like missiles, flying past me with terrifying speed. My reflexes kicked in, and I ducked and dodged with surprising agility, narrowly avoiding a barrage of red projectiles. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I gathered my strength to return fire.

 

In a split second, I spotted Anderson on the other side—a smirk crossed my face as I hurled a ball straight at him, the satisfying thud as it hit his stomach echoing in my ears.

 

He crumpled to the floor, curling up in pain, and I couldn’t help but revel in my small victory. Ahhh, nothing like poetic justice. 

 

Just as I allowed myself a moment of triumph, I quickly ducked low, narrowly avoiding what could have been a headshot, the whoosh of the ball flying overhead reminding me that the game was far from over.

 

I ducked under the barrage of balls flying through the air, picking up two dodgeballs with my fingers closing around them. Steadying my stance, I locked my gaze on an unsuspecting student a few paces away, drew back my arm, and released. A satisfying pop echoed as the ball struck its target.

 

Like clockwork, I slipped into a rhythm of dodging and throwing, my body moving instinctively as I focused on the game. Most of my throws found their mark, striking my targets with precision.

 

Just as I reached for another ball, a sudden instinct kicked in. I caught a glimpse of something hurtling toward me at breakneck speed, and before I knew it, I was dodging backward, narrowly avoiding the missile that whisked past my head, creating a thunderous pop that reverberated against the gym walls.

 

Turning around, I spotted a girl in a purple trike, her body coiled like a spring, preparing to launch another assault. Her gaze was unwavering, filled with a mix of concentration and mischief.

 

“What's your problem? You nearly took my head off!” I shouted, frustrated.

 

With a sadistic smirk spreading across her lips, she shrugged nonchalantly, “Sorry, I just don't know my own strength sometimes.” 

 

I smirked back, still pissed. “It’s alright, here let me give it back.” I quickly scooped up the dodgeball and hurled it back at her with equal ferocity.

 

She barely had time to react, instinctively ducking to the side as my ball whizzed past her. “Hey! What’s your problem?” she exclaimed, her previous confidence momentarily shaken.

 

I gave a playful shrug, feigning innocence. “Sorry, I just don’t know my own strength sometimes.” 

 

“Ohh, so that’s how you want to play it!” With an exaggerated huff, she stormed over to a pile of balls, grabbing one and taking aim at me with fierce determination.

 

I effortlessly dodged the incoming ball, my reflexes honed from previous games of dodgeball at my old school. With a swift motion, I returned a powerful throw of my own, watching as the trike deftly evaded it. At that moment, the game ignited; we were locked in a fierce back-and-forth, both of us determined to outlast the other. As the match progressed, however, the trike’s throws began to lose their precise accuracy. I could feel fatigue creeping in, my energy slowly depleting with each exchange.

 

Then, I noticed a glint in her eye—the kind that revealed fierce determination. Her grip tightened around the ball, and I could see she was gearing up to give it everything she had. It was a moment of intensity as she began to charge her throw, coiling like a spring ready to release.

 

Seizing the opportunity, I steadied myself, the weight of the ball grounding me momentarily. This was my shot—the one I had been waiting for. I took aim, focusing intently on her movement as I tensed every muscle in my body, feeling the rush of adrenaline course through me. With a decisive motion, I released the ball, propelling it forward with all my strength and speed, faster than I had ever thrown before.

 

Caught off guard by the sudden burst of velocity, the trike instinctively loosened her grip. She spun around desperately to execute a last-minute dodge, but I could see that my throw was on a trajectory too quick for her to fully avoid. 

 

In that fleeting moment, I held my breath, fully convinced that my aim was precise. Unfortunately the bright red ball just barely skimmed her cheek, narrowly avoiding her face.

 

Damn it.

 

Yet this near miss did not slow the ball's momentum; it hurtled onward with unwavering speed. With the trike now out of the way, the ball set its sights on the small Microraptor perched just behind her. The one I had seen before was now next in line. 

 

Shit.

 

Notes:

That’s gonna leave a mark

Chapter 3: The Yeast I Can Do

–Anon–

 

As if everything had descended into slow motion, the vibrant orange dodgeball hurtled through the air, zeroing in on the oblivious Microraptor. With a sickening thud, it collided squarely with their forehead, the sound echoing through the gym like the crack of a thunderclap.

 

 The impact sent the small dinosaur sprawling, skidding backward across the polished floor, an exaggerated scene reminiscent of a cartoonish tumble, finally coming to a stop, out cold. Gasps and muffled winces rippled through the crowd.

 

I grimaced, knowing all too well the nature of dodgeball: survival of the fittest. Someone was bound to get hurt amidst the chaos. They should have dodged, ducked, blocked—anything! It wasn’t my fault they found themselves on the receiving end of a well-aimed throw.

 

Yet, an uncomfortable knot twisted in my stomach. 

 

So Why do I feel like a complete ass?

 

TWEEEEEET

 

“Time out! Time out! Hold your balls!” Coach bellowed, waving his arms in a frantic gesture, rushing to kneel beside the fallen Microraptor. 

 

He scrutinized the student for a heartbeat before delivering a couple of gentle smacks to their cheek—his face a blend of worry and, finally, resignation as he deemed the raptor unconscious. A frown settled on his features, swiftly morphing into an expression of sympathy that quickly turned to frustration.

 

“ YOU TWO!! ” he thundered, pointing an accusatory finger at me and the Triceratops. “ MY OFFICE, NOW!! ”

 

I let out a sigh, great.

 

“Becka and Stella, please take Sage to the nurse's office while I handle these two.” His voice softened as he turned back to us, trying to maintain some semblance of calm.

 

The lime-green Stegosaurus and that brown raptor from English class glanced my way, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and disgust. It was a look I recognized too well, and I could only assume she was directing it at me before she rolled her eyes and redirected her attention to the still form of the Microraptor.

 

With my feet dragging like lead weights and hands shoved deep in my pockets, I trudged to the Coach's office, following the Triceratops with reluctant steps.

 

Inside the cramped space, chaos reigned among piles of disheveled papers sprawled across the small desk, each one a testament to the disorganization of the room, cabinets standing haphazardly like sentinels of a forgotten order.

 

“Sit.” His command brokered no argument.

 

We complied, sinking into the chairs that seemed almost too small for his imposing frame, the way he occupied the seat making him resemble an irritable man-child. I’d have found it amusing if his icy glare didn’t send a chill racing down my spine.

 

“Something funny?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing.

 

I shook my head, stifling a smirk. “No, sir.”

 

“Good, because this situation is no laughing matter,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly wrestling with the weight of the moment. “What you two did led to someone getting seriously hurt.” 

 

His voice was steady but taut, reflecting the tension in the air. “I encourage a good rivalry, but you took it too far. This game is meant to be enjoyable, not…” He waved his hand in exasperation, searching for words, “dangerous.”

 

The Triceratops crossed her arms defiantly. “Then why didn't you stop it before it escalated? If anything, the blame falls more on you than us. We were just playing the game.”

 

I wanted to argue or at least lend her some support, yet silence enveloped me. Deep inside, I knew we had crossed a line. 

 

I expected Coach to scold her, to lash out in anger for deflecting the blame, but instead, he paused, rubbing his temples as he pondered her words before exhaling a heavy sigh.

 

“Yes, Trish… you’re right,” he admitted, his tone reluctantly conceding as he rested his gaze on her. “The responsibility does rest with me, as I am the overseer for everyone in this gym. My job is not only to get you in shape but also to ensure everyone’s safety.”

 

Trish scoffs “Some good that did.”

 

He grimaced as he rose from his chair, towering over us with an expression that could summon a storm. “But that doesn’t excuse your actions,” he said, gritting his teeth, barely containing his fury.

 

“Do you two even realize that someone got hurt because of what you did? Do you feel any remorse at all?” His piercing gaze darted between us, searching for signs of guilt.

 

Trish shrugged, completely unfazed, as if this whole incident was merely a joke to her. Coach let out an exasperated sigh, turning his gaze toward me, hoping to find some trace of regret. I bit my lip and looked away, unable to endure the weight of his scrutiny.

 

“Are you just going to lecture us, or are you gonna send us to Spears? I have class in a few minutes, and I can’t afford to be late again,” Trish shot back, frustration edging into my voice.

 

He sighed, clearly exasperated by our indifference. “No punishment this time, just a warning. Think twice before pulling a stunt like that again, alright?”

 

Trish rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can I go now?” Her impatience was palpable.

 

Coach waved her off. “Go on. I’ve got an incident report to fill out.”

 

With that, Trish stood, storming out and slamming the door behind her with a frustrated thud. Coach shook his head as he rummaged through the cluttered cabinets, finally pulling out a piece of paper and slamming it down on his desk with a sense of resigned annoyance.

 

He pulls out a pen from his pouch already writing up a storm, seeming to block out everything around him, even my presence as he continuously keeps writing. I thought I would be completely invisible before Coach cough brought me back to reality.

 

“You're free to go,” he says again, sounding a bit annoyed.

 

“Right,” I mumble, finally standing up.

 

I reach for the door handle and twist it just a bit but stop. That familiar, nagging feeling creeps back in, making it hard to turn the knob. My grip tightens, knuckles going white as I wrestle with the urge to just push the door open.

 

Why am I just standing here like an idiot?

 

Why do I feel so bad?

 

I shouldn’t feel guilty for anything. I've done worse to people for less, so why is my conscience bothering me right now? I shouldn’t feel anything, so why—

 

“Anon?” A voice cuts through my thoughts. “Are you okay? You've been standing there for a minute.”

 

I turn back, still holding the knob. “Huh? Oh yeah, just… checking to see if I grabbed everything.” I give my pockets a little pat like I'm looking for something.

 

The coach perched on the edge of his desk, his brow furrowed, clearly unconvinced by my attempt at a façade. “Anon, I’ve spent a lifetime teaching students. I can spot when something’s off, even if they’re good at pretending. You’re the ladder, and it’s obvious something’s been bothering you since you walked in.”

 

I pressed my lips together, biting down on the inside of my cheek to keep quiet. “N-Nothing’s wrong,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.

 

“Really?” he replied, one eyebrow raised. “Then why did you look so guilty just a moment ago?”

 

Silence enveloped the room as I struggled for a response.

 

With a heavy sigh, he leant forward. “You’re worried about Sage, aren’t you?”

 

The mention of her name made me flinch, his words striking right at the heart of the matter. A small chuckle escaped him as he noted my reaction.

 

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s so funny?” 

 

He shook his head with an amused smile. “Nothing, nothing at all. But if you’re so concerned about Sage—though it seems you’re not—you might want to pay her a visit in the nurse’s office. Just a thought.”

 

“Why would I do that?” I shot back, feigning nonchalance.

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he shrugged dramatically, “maybe it’s just a hunch. Old age has its quirks, after all. But if you really are worried about her, room 101 isn’t too far from here.”

 

I scoffed and felt my confidence swell. “Whatever,” I muttered, swinging open the door with newfound determination and stepping out, ready to confront whatever awaited me.

 

“Oh, and Anon…”

 

I turned around, my frown deepening as I met Coach's gaze. “What?” I responded curtly, the sharpness of my tone cutting through the air.

 

A grin spread across Coach's face, his eyes twinkling with approval. “That’s some damn good playing you did out there. Keep up the hustle,” he said, his voice warm and encouraging before he returned his focus to the papers scattered across his desk.

 

With a shrug, I stepped out, the door clicking shut behind me with a finality that echoed in the empty hallway. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, my feet kicking up imaginary dust as I ambled toward the locker room, the weight of the day's practice still buzzing in my bones.

 

My footsteps echoed with a rhythmic click as I made my way down the corridor, the familiar scent of sweat and clean linoleum wafting through the air.

 

“Hey, baldie.” The sharp voice sliced through the ambient noise, instantly making me groan, as I recognized the voice. I turned to face her, and there stood the purple trigga herself, she changed out of her gym clothes for a vibrant yellow hoodie and relaxed sweats. Her expression was less furious than before but still retained that fierce edge.

 

“What?” 

 

Her lips pressed together, a sign that whatever she had to say was weighing on her. “For a skinnie, you’re pretty good.”

 

I sneered at the compliment, “And for a pint-sized trigga, you’ve got some muscle on you.”

 

I braced for an explosive reaction after throwing out the t-word, but instead, her expression remained cool and indifferent.

 

A sly smirk danced on her lips. “What? Expecting a meltdown?”

 

“Well yeah, this is usually the part where you flip out and try to beat my ass.” 

 

She chuckled lightly, her laughter almost surprising in its ease. “Well, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want me to get mad. Maybe it’s time to up your vocabulary a bit.”

 

I scoffed, my confidence unfazed. “I don’t need a midget telling me how to insult.”

 

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever. Just wanted to say I’m watching you.”

 

“Uh-huh.” 

 

Shrugging her off, I pushed past her and stepped into the men’s locker room, the air thick with the scent of sweat and men’s body spray. I could feel her gaze boring into the back of my head, as if her eyes were trying to melt away my resolve with sheer intensity.

 

There's no way I'm sticking with this school gym uniform for the rest of the day. I ditched it for my ripped pants instead. Luckily, I found some tape stashed in my backpack to patch up the hole. 

 

Don't ask why I have tape in there—it’s a long story.

 

My boots echoed sharply against the school floors, the emptiness of the hallways amplifying the sound. It seemed Coach must have let us go a bit earlier than usual—though I wondered if that was even allowed. But honestly, who cares? More time for me to screw around…

 

Or, I could make a detour to the nurse’s office.

 

I dismissed that thought with a shake of my head. Why was this bothering me so much? It was just an accident, but that gnawing sense of guilt clawed at me, intensifying with every passing moment. It was like a shadow I couldn’t escape, consuming my thoughts as I walked through the desolate corridors.

 

I let out a tired sigh, “fuck it.”

 

I took a quick detour, carefully recalling Coach's instructions, making several turns before finally standing outside the nurse’s office. The unmistakable scent of antiseptic and sterile air wafted through the slightly ajar door, almost beckoning me to step inside.

 

With a few firm knocks, I rapped on the smooth, painted surface of the door. “Come in,” a voice called out, tinged with exhaustion.

 

I swung the door open, stepping into the subdued light of the room, where the calming yet clinical atmosphere enveloped me. door as I’m greeted to a polish white interior, the room had a few rows of bed with some curtains being the only thing separating one another. Sitting in a stool was a grey, tired looking ptero, she looked like she’s seen better days as the bag under her eyes is a tall tale communicator of daily life as a school nurse.

 

“What’s going on this time? Sore throat? Stomach bug?” She stretched out her hand. “No, wait—let me guess, you've got a bad case of ligma.”

 

“Uhh… no.”

 

She leaned back, her hands tucked into her pockets. “Then what's your excuse this time?”

 

“Excuse?”

 

Her expression shifted, a hint of surprise crossing her face. “Wait a minute. Are you not here to skip class?”

 

“Uh, no. I came to check on someone. I think her name is Sage.”

 

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Raptor Christ. You wouldn’t believe how many students try to skip classes in the nurse's office.”

 

‘Does it really happen that often?’

 

“Yes! Every single day. They cook up these elaborate excuses to stay, and I can’t turn them away because of school policies. That means I have to write a report on every silly symptom—”

 

I interrupted her mid-rant. “Yeah, that sounds rough, but is Sage here or not?”

 

She huffed and gestured. “Just over there.” She pointed to the far end of the room. “I’m stepping out for a smoke break.”

 

I nod moving past her as I make my way toward the end of the room. There sat Microraptors with a bag of ice covering her left, she traded out her gym uniform for a form of overalls and a short-sleeved shirt, she was peering out the window completely oblivious to the outside world around her.

 

I cleared my throat, trying to get her attention. 

 

“Oh, it’s you,” she remarked a hint of surprise in her voice.

 

“Um, yeah, it’s me,” I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling a bit sheepish.

 

After what felt like an eternity of intense eye contact, I finally found my voice. “About… earlier, I’m really—”

 

“It’s okay,” she interrupted with a wave of her hand, dismissing my concern.

 

“What?”

 

“I said it’s okay. It was just an accident,” she explained, her tone surprisingly easygoing.

 

I hesitated, biting my lip as that familiar pang of guilt washed over me. “No, it wasn’t just an accident. I feel responsible for what happened to you. Sure, the ball wasn’t aimed at you, but I shouldn’t have thrown it so hard in the first place.”

 

To my surprise, she smiled and chuckled lightly. “Really, it’s alright. It was sort of my fault too. I probably shouldn’t have tried to catch a dodgeball with my face!” 

 

“Next time, I’ll try to dodge,” she added, her enthusiasm palpable.

 

That was… different. Usually, in these situations, people would have yelled at me to “leave them alone” or “get lost.” I was half-expecting her to scream at me, but instead, she was being kind? It was an odd feeling.

 

“What? Did you think I was mad at you or something?” she teased playfully.

 

I blinked, taken aback. “No— I mean, yes. I kind of expected you to loathe me or something. Honestly, I didn't think you’d even want to talk to me after that.”

 

“And why would I want to hate you? Do you want me to hate you?”

 

“Um, no? Yes? I don’t know. I just… I haven’t had the best luck with social interactions. Most of the time, I either end up pissing someone off or scaring them away.”

 

“This is probably the furthest I’ve gotten into a somewhat normal conversation, so I’m a bit lost here,” I admitted.

 

She giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, for starters, why don’t you have a seat? You look like you're about to fall over.”

 

Nervously, I nodded and sank into the chair beside her. She leaned in slightly, a hint of curiosity in her expression. “Sorry if this sounds rude, but what’s your name again?”

 

“Anon.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Anon,” she said warmly, extending her hand. 

 

I eyed her hand suspiciously for a moment before taking it. She shook it with genuine enthusiasm. “It’s great to finally see a new face around here. It gets so dull seeing the same people every day.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“So, how’s your first day been? Made any new friends yet?”

 

“Not really, and I don’t plan to either. I mean, I’m not exactly the friendly type, and I definitely don’t look like someone who wants to sit down and ‘chat,’” I replied bluntly. 

 

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Have you tried smiling? No offense, Anon—”

 

“Anon,” I corrected, a hint of annoyance creeping into my voice.

 

“Right, Anon. You do kind of look scary, frowning all the time. Maybe a smile would help with that.”

 

I cringed at the thought. “Uh, no thanks. I’d rather not.”

 

“Oh come on! Turn that frown upside down!” She reached out, playfully attempting to poke the corners of my mouth with her finger, but I quickly, yet gently swatted her hand away.

 

“Don’t touch me,” I said firmly.

 

Her eyes widened with surprise, and then she laughed lightly. “Oh, sorry! I guess it is a bit rude to touch someone you barely know.”

 

“It’s fine,” I replied, keeping my tone short.

 

“But a smile can brighten someone’s day,” she countered, her voice light.

 

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet skeptical. “And why should I care if someone’s day is bright or not?”

 

“Because you’re not the only one in this world. One day, you might need a smile too,” she said, her gaze steady.

 

I let out a scoff. “As if.”

 

“You’ll see… eventually.”

 

“Can we change the subject, please?” I waved my hand dismissively.

 

“Sure! What are your hobbies? Mine are baking, cooking, gardening, and I’m fascinated by science,” she said with enthusiasm.

 

I glanced away, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Mine’s not really that special.”

 

“Don’t say that! It’s probably really interesting,” she insisted, her warm smile pulling me back in.

 

I paused, studying her. Why was she so friendly? It was as if she didn’t find me intimidating at all. Didn’t I at least repel her in some way?

 

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the silence?”

 

I shook my head. “Nothing. I enjoy playing games and working out.”

 

“You work out?” she asked, clearly intrigued.

 

“Yeah, but I need to find a new gym. I don’t want these muscles to go to waste.” I rolled up my sleeve, flexing with a smirk.

 

A slight blush crept onto her cheeks before she composed herself. “That’s nice! I’m not really the athletic type, as you may have noticed, but I want to work out more. Maybe you could be my workout buddy?”

 

“Uh, no thanks, Sage. I prefer to work out alone,” I replied, trying to sound firm.

 

She shrugged, undeterred. “Suit yourself, but it’s kinda rude to turn down a cute girl, you know.”

 

“Cute?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

 

With a playful jab to my chest, she shot back, “Jerk!”

 

Normally, I’d react aggressively to such a poke, maybe even lash out, but with her, it felt… different. Was this what genuine conversation felt like? It was… nice.

 

Sage giggled, pointing at me. “Made you smile!”

 

What? I instinctively covered my mouth with my hand, realizing she was right. I had a full-on grin stretching across my face. A faint warmth crept to my cheeks.

 

She laughed even harder. “You’re so silly, Anon.”

 

“I am not!” I protested, trying to keep my composure.

 

“Keep telling yourself that, Mr. Big and Serious.”

 

“Agh, whatever. I need to go.” I stood up, slinging my backpack over one shoulder.

 

“Yeah, probably for the best. Class is about to start.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “See ya, Anon.”

 

“Uh, see you too… Sage.” I offered a two-finger salute, feeling a strange mix of hesitation and anticipation.

 

Just as I turned to leave, I collided with someone—of course, it was that familiar raptor from earlier. She was balancing two sodas and shot me a glare that could freeze fire. Her frown deepened at the mere sight of me. 

 

Great.

 

“What are you doing here?” She huffs, crossing her arms defiantly.

 

“Just checking on Sage, that’s all,” I reply, trying to keep it casual with a shrug.

 

“Why? So you can gloat about pelting her?” she snaps back, skepticism painted on her face.

 

“What?! No! I just wanted to apologize!” I shoot back, frustration bubbling up.

 

She scoffs, her eyes narrowing as she sizes me up. “Apologize? Really? You didn’t look even the slightest bit sorry when you hit her.”

 

“It was an accident, okay? If you don’t believe me, ask Sage yourself!” I gesture toward the room’s far corner where Sage is.

 

“Even if Sage told me you apologized, I still wouldn’t believe it. I know exactly what kind of trouble you bring, Anon. I don’t want you anywhere near her. She’s already dealing with enough issues without you complicating things.”

 

I take a bold step forward, feeling the heat rising. “And what the hell does that mean?!”

 

She narrows her eyes, stepping closer, her presence commanding. “It means you’re trouble, real trouble. The last thing I want is for my friend to get tangled up in your mess.” 

 

“Becka,” Sage calls out.

 

Becka glances over my shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

 

She jabs a claw into my chest, her warning sharp and clear. “Last chance, leave Sage alone.”

 

I huff, pushing past her, anger simmering. “Whatever. I didn’t want to be her friend anyway,” I grumble under my breath.

 

Becka huffs as she steps inside, her expression shifting instantly as she greets her friend. 

 

“Sorry I ran into some… trouble,” Becka says, a hint of concern in her voice.

 

And honestly, she isn’t wrong. I’m trouble incarnate, a whirlwind of chaos that follows everywhere I go. Maybe I should appreciate Becka for wanting to protect Sage; it’s clear she’s a loyal friend, one who’d fight to keep her away from people like me.

 

Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing from my old school—a friend who gives a damn and who’d stand up for me. I chuckle bitterly, the thought bittersweet. But that probably wouldn't have mattered anyway, Rock couldn't even keep my ass out of trouble and he’s a principal.

 

I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

 

No, enough brooding. Time to focus on getting to science class without being tardy. The bell's about to ring, and I can’t afford to slip up now.

 

Raptor Christ, that’s two classes down and just one more to go.

 

Science felt like a grueling slugfest, the air thick with the murmur of nerdy jargon—something about magnetism, I think? It all sounded like an indecipherable language to me, a jumble of terms and theories that flew right over my head. 

 

Math was an outright nightmare, to put it mildly. Numbers danced before my eyes like a chaotic storm, and no matter how hard I tried to grasp the concepts, they slipped through my fingers like sand. 

 

I’ve never considered myself a “math person,” nor a “school person,” for that matter. Honestly, I can't stand any of these subjects that clog up my days. I often wonder if any of this so-called knowledge will ever serve a purpose once I finally escape this institutional hell.

 

I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of frustration pressing down on me.

 

You’re having another one of those “talking to yourself” moments.

 

I know, brain! But can’t you just take a backseat and let me wallow in my misery for a minute without the judgment?

 

Still holding a conversation with yourself, huh?

 

Fuck you, I’m going to lunch.

 

And fuck you too, pal.

 

I stormed into the cafeteria, kicking up a frenzy of dust as I marched toward my next destination: lunch. Honestly, I was crossing my fingers that the brochures were telling the truth about the food here because I was ready for a break from the endless cycle of microwavable dinners. Rationing? It’s a nightmare.

 

As I pushed through the double doors, I was met with a scene straight out of a battlefield. Chairs were flying, and Dino nuggets soared through the air as students grappled for the last tray of mystery meat and whatever casserole creation was on the menu. 

 

I think I also saw someone being used as a battering ram at one point.

 

Where the hell is security? Or Spears for that matter?!

 

I looked around the cafeteria and there he stood, the caveman himself, Spears was standing with his hands behind his back spectating the chaos. Is he really just standing there watching all of this? Does he not care or is this just a daily occurrence for him?

 

Whatever it is I have no time to think about it as for now I need to think about what I’m going to get for lunch. The carnivore line is currently Wrestlemania 2000 as Jeff Hardy jumps off the top rope onto some poor unsuspecting student. The herbivore line is relatively tame but I rather eat something besides salad at the moment.

 

Looking around I spot a pizza bar in the corner. And there’s not a line in sight, today might just be my lucky day.

 

I hastily made it to the front ordering a single slice of pepperoni pizza, it's cheese drip with a delightful goodness, its pepperonis were rich, not to mention the crust looked absolutely good. My stomach was already growling in anticipation.

 

Thank Raptor Christ I haven’t eaten all day.

 

I find a secluded spot in the cafeteria setting down my tray eager to take the first bite of my cheesy-deserved goodness.

 

I stop mid-bite.

 

Why do I feel like someone is watching me?

 

I do a quick take looking around the cafeteria spotting nothing out of the ordinary— well as ordinary as you could get. The students are still fighting and the rest of the students are too engrossed in their own conversation to even be looking in my general direction.

 

 Christ, I must be going schizo.

 

I shrugged and dove back into my pizza, savoring the first bite. The flavors exploded in my mouth—a delightful dance of salty and sweet. The marinara sauce was perfectly paired with the gooey cheese, and the pepperoni was the cherry on top of this delicious masterpiece.

 

"Hey, An—"

 

" RAPTOR CHRIST!! " I yelped, nearly dropping my slice.

 

I whipped around to see Naser standing there, hands raised in a mock defensive pose, wide-eyed as if he’d just witnessed a crime scene.

 

"Naser, what the hell!"

 

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Sorry, Anon. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

 

“Well, you did,” I grumbled, still recovering. “You could have just tapped my shoulder or something.”

 

He shuffled his feet, looking a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, I thought about it, but I wasn’t sure after your, um... ‘situation’ this morning.”

 

“Oh, right.” I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly reminded of the awkwardness. “Thanks for at least remembering. Usually, people just ignore it entirely.”

 

He nodded with a casual grin. “No prob.”

 

I felt myself relax a little. “So, what’s up?”

 

“Not much, man. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re holding up.”

 

“I’m good, just staying out of the way.” 

 

“Gotcha. Did you find your class okay? No trouble, right?”

 

“Nah, the brochure had all the info I needed, and the numbered classrooms made it a breeze.”

 

He nodded, satisfied. “Good to hear.” Then he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

 

“Is that it, or...?”

 

“Well, yeah and no,” he said, gesturing behind him. “I was hoping you’d come sit with us. Naomi’s been eager to talk to you.”

 

I cringed a bit. “I’m good where I am, thanks.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You look a little lonely, man.”

 

“I promise I’m fine,” I reassured him.

 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just wanted to extend the invite.” 

 

As he turned to walk back to his table, he suddenly pivoted back toward me, jogging a few steps in my direction. 

 

“Oh, one more thing!”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“There’s a concert at the end of school—my sibling is playing, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come.”

 

“Ehh, crowds aren’t really my thing.”

 

“There’ll be pizza!” he added, trying to sweeten the deal.

 

“Ehhh.”

 

“You can grab a box or two if you come. I ordered way too much and could use some help getting rid of it,” he smirked.

 

I looked away, contemplating. “I’ll think about it. What kind of music do they play?”

 

“Music,” 

 

“Uh, what kind of music?” 

 

“The kind you like.” 

 

I frowned. “You have no idea what I like, do you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Alright, well I’ll see about it,” I said, feeling a twist of curiosity.

 

He nodded enthusiastically. “If you decide to come, just swing by the auditorium after class. I’ll be waiting outside the doors.”

 

“Alright, see you later, Naser.”

 

“See ya, Anon. And, uh, enjoy…” He pointed to my tray

 

I glanced down, horror washing over me. “What the hell!”

 

My once appetizing pizza had transformed into a sad-looking slab of cheese and cardboard. Had my chat with Naser really taken only a minute? How the hell did my lunch end up like this?!

 

I picked it up, knocking it lightly against the table. It sounded like a drum.

 

I cursed under my breath. 

 

There goes my lunch.

 

My stomach grumbled in protest, desperate for something to appease it. Maybe I could snag another slice before—

 

RIIIIIING!

 

Damn.

 

Guess I’m going hungry.

 

I stood, grabbing my tray and dumping its contents into the nearby trash can with a sigh. Next time, I needed to get to lunch earlier before it devolved into a free-for-all.

 

Maybe I should check out the auditorium after school. After all, who was I to pass up free pizza?

 

Stuffing my backpack into the cramped confines of my locker, I felt a rush of satisfaction as the metal door slammed shut with a definitive clang. 

 

Finally, I was free.

 

Today had been too many emotions for me—an exhausting blend of stress, relief, and anticipation—but now I could finally put all of that behind me. I took a moment to gather my thoughts as I rifled through my pockets for the folded map of the school, squinting at it under the dim fluorescent lights. After a brief search, I spotted the auditorium's location marked with an oversized star.

 

With a resolute nod, I navigated my way through the eerily quiet, vacant hallways, each step echoing off the linoleum floors. The usually bustling corridors were deserted, amplifying my sense of solitude. Soon, I stumbled upon a set of heavy double doors. Leaning casually against the wall nearby was Naser, absorbed in his phone, his expression decidedly indifferent as he tapped away, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.

 

I approached him, clearing my throat lightly to announce my presence.

 

He perks up quickly, pocketing his phone into his pocket.

 

“Honestly I didn't really expect you to come.”

 

“Well, here I am.” 

 

He nods “That I can see. Come let's get inside before it gets too crowded.” he nudges inside while holding the door open.

 

I began to follow him inside but was briefly stopped by an enormous hand. 

 

“Hold it Mous, me and you need to have a little… talk .” The voice is ominous.

 

Looking up, Spears stood tall adorned in his suit, his expression still unreadable as ever. 

 

Naser nodded “I’ll wait for you inside.” 

 

He closes the door leaving me with the behemoth of a man. The tension was palpable as neither one of us spoke a word. It felt like an eternity as Spears’ gaze bore a hole in me, his jaw finally unclenched.

 

“How’s your first day of school been treating you?” Spears asked, a keen glint in his eye.

 

“Fine, I guess. Nothing too exciting,” I shrugged.

 

One of his brows arched skeptically. “Really now?” 

 

“Uh… yeah?”

 

He leaned back, a knowing hum escaping his lips. “That’s not quite what the report on my desk suggests. Something about you and Ms. Patricia getting a bit too carried away during a dodgeball game that left one student injured. Ringing any bells?”

 

“Um…” My mind raced.

 

Spears let out a heavy sigh. “Anon, we need to talk about this.”

 

“It was an accident! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone—I just got a bit caught up in the moment.”

 

“And that moment resulted in someone getting hurt. You’ve got to learn to control yourself, Anon, before it gets serious.”

 

“I know! If it helps at all, I apologized.”

 

“Really?” His interest piqued.

 

“Yeah. I went to the nurse’s office right after class and said I was sorry. We even chatted about some other stuff,” I added, a bit defensively.

 

Spears studied me for a moment, a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “Good. It’s great to hear you took responsibility and used your words. Most people would just duck and hide when things go wrong.” He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “And solving issues with words rather than resorting to your fists? That’s a step in the right direction.”

 

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “I only did that because I didn’t want to get in trouble, alright?”

 

He smirked playfully. “If that’s what works for you. But there’s one more thing I want to share—just a bit of advice from your principal.”

 

“What’s that?” I asked, curious.

 

“You’re not the only one in the world.” 

 

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Huh, Sage told me the same thing today.”

 

His brow shot up in disbelief. “Really? Guess you could say she shared a little ‘Sage’ advice!” He chuckled, wiping away a tear of laughter.

 

I winced at the pun, my embarrassment peeking through. “Can I go now?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

 

“Sure, sure. Go on!” he replied, still smirking.

 

He holds the door open beckoning me inside as the loud chatter of students seeped out from the auditorium. I nodded stepping past him inside, the auditorium really didn’t look all that different from my old school, with rows of chairs pointing towards the stage, a big red curtain. 

 

Yep just looks like a copy and paste of any old school auditorium albeit slightly bigger.

 

“Finally done? Spears didn’t give you a hard time, did he?” Naser chimes in as he walks beside me.

 

I shake my head, a hint of relief in my voice. “No, we just had a little misunderstanding. We’re good now.”

 

Naser grins and gives me a thumbs-up. “Great to hear.

Pizza’s this way.” He gestures to a table across the room.

 

We weave through a crowd of chattering students, and when we reach the table, Naser lifts two boxes of pizza, handing one to me with a triumphant smile. I nod appreciatively, my stomach already rumbling. 

 

“No problem!” he replies 

 

I flip open the box, and an intoxicating aroma of melting cheese and savory toppings wafts up to greet me. My mouth waters at the sight—this looks miles ahead of that cafeteria cardboard pizza. I can’t help but wonder… how is it going to taste?

 

I eagerly grabbed one of the slices, sinking my teeth into it, and was immediately enveloped by an explosion of flavors. A satisfied hum escaped my lips, a delicious harmony that my stomach echoed back with a loud growl, demanding more. I devoured the first slice in no time, earning a playful snicker from Naser.

 

“Good, isn’t it?” he teased.

 

“Hell yeah, it’s amazing! I haven't had anything decent to eat all day,” I replied, reaching for another slice, barely able to contain my excitement.

 

“Well, glad I could help,” Naser said, his grin widening.

 

I couldn’t help but ask, “Quick question—where did you get this? This isn’t your usual run-of-the-mill pizza.”

 

Naser leaned back slightly, a glint of pride in his eyes. “Got it from a place in Lil Tru called Dino Moe’s. My uncle owns the joint.”

 

“Nice! I might have to check that out later,” I said, nodding appreciatively.

 

But suddenly, Naser fished out his phone, and just like that, his smile vanished, replaced by an unsettling indifference. 

 

That’s strange; he was just all laughs a moment ago.

 

“Anyways, I gotta go. See ya around, man,” he said, turning to leave.

 

Wait, what? He’s leaving already? He brought pizza for his sibling’s concert and is just going to bounce like that? Doesn’t he want to stick around… or is he just not allowed to?

 

I bit my lip, feeling a sudden rush of urgency. “Yo, Naser!”

 

He turned, surprise etched on his face at my raised voice. “Uhhh, yeah?”

 

“Um…”

 

How do I even ask this?

 

“Uh, are you… gonna grab any of this pizza before you head out?”

 

Ugh, that’s not quite what I wanted to say!

 

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion in his gaze. “Uh, no, I’m good, but thanks for asking.”

 

And as he stepped through the double doors of the auditorium, I could have sworn I saw his shoulders slump just a bit, like the weight of something unsaid hung heavily in the air.

 

I let out a frustrated sigh, fuck me. 

 

Why is it so tough to just ask someone, “Are you okay?” It feels like such a simple question, yet it trips me up every time. Why is it that my default mode seems to be anger or passive-aggressiveness instead of kindness? Sage is right, I really need to work on being more approachable.

 

I grumbled as I took a bite of the pizza, but the cheesy delight did little to lift my spirits. 

 

‘Dude, this is gonna be an absolute train wreck.’

 

‘I mean, why even bother?,

 

‘Total losers, if you ask me.’

 

What were they talking about? Were they referring to the band? I leaned in closer, curiosity piqued.

 

“They did this last year, and it was a total disaster. Seriously, why don’t they just save themselves the embarrassment?” The voice was dripping with disdain. “If I were them, I’d just call it quits.”

 

That was harsh, even for me. I shouldn’t stick around and let them catch me eavesdropping, so I took another bite of pizza, bracing myself for the impending train wreck I could feel brewing.

 

Just then, the lights dimmed, the only brightness focused on the stage. The curtains swept back to reveal a pink raptor, Trish, and… oh no, it was her.

 

That girl from earlier—the one who couldn’t stop glaring at me.

 

No way. 

 

That’s Naser’s sibling?!

 

Every instinct screamed at me to leave, but I forced myself to stay put, reminding myself that Naser had hooked me up with free pizza. The least I could do was stick around, even if the thought of her made my skin crawl.

 

After striking a pose, the trio finally began to play, and calling it a disaster would be putting it lightly—this was barely music; it felt more like torture. Then I realized they were attempting to do double bass. Even someone like me, with minimal musical knowledge, knew that’s just asking for trouble.

 

Despite the crowd’s jeers, they fought through the chaos, but it became obvious that it wasn’t working. The pink raptor quickly retreated from the stage, while Trish looked on the verge of tears. The ptero, though? She was furious, livid beyond reason.

 

“ FUCK YOU!! FUCK ALL OF YOU!! !” she shouted, flipping the bird.

 

“ NO ONE WOULD WANT TO FUCK YOU ANYWAY!!! ” an audience member shot back.

 

Suddenly, something flew through the air, narrowly missing the ptero as she ducked to avoid it. But before she could unleash another string of curses, another slice of pizza smacked her right in the face.

 

Pepperoni bits clung to her snout, making it look like she had thepox. The crowd erupted into a chorus of laughter, some pulling out their phones to capture the humiliation.

 

At that moment, the ptero looked utterly defeated. Her arms hung limp at her sides as she dashed off the stage, tears threatening to spill.

 

A pang of guilt washed over me. I may not have liked her, but even I could see this was too much. I sighed, tucking the pizza box under my arm. 

 

I’ve seen enough.

 

I stood, pushed through the crowd, and made my way to the double doors. But as I stepped outside, something solid blocked my path. It was Spears, and he did not look happy. His eyes dropped to the pizza box in my hand, and I could sense the gears turning in his head as he put two and two together.

 

“It’s not— I didn’t do that.” 

 

“I don’t want to hear it, Mous. I believe you,” he snarled, his fury barely contained. His fists were gripped so tightly that his knuckles had turned a ghostly white, and I could see the tension radiating from his shoulders like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

 

With a sudden, sweeping motion, he stormed past me. The weight of his frustration hung in the air, and as the heavy doors of the auditorium slammed shut behind him, I caught a glimpse of the chaos brewing within him. 

 

“ NOW WHICH ONE OF YOU THREW THAT FUCKING PIZZA?! ” he bellowed each word a thunderclap that sent shivers through the crowd.

 

I wasn’t even the one in trouble, yet a chill ran down my spine. Note to self: don’t cross the man who looks like he could bend steel with a glare.

 

As I stepped outside, the fresh afternoon breeze hit me like a gentle wave, washing away the tension of the day. Just as my foot hit the ground, an exuberant surge of students erupted through the doors, their hurried movement a frantic ballet. The palpable energy around me buzzed with life.

 

“The caveman is mad this time!” one voice shouted, a mix of fear and excitement threading through the words.

 

“I told you not to do that!” another cried, panic tinging their tone.

 

Guess those are the dumbasses who threw that slice.

 

I couldn't help but feel a pang of contempt for them. How could anyone be so hateful to someone who didn’t deserve it? 

 

Why am I even defending her?

 

Today had turned into an emotional rollercoaster, and all I craved now was the refuge of home.

 

Quickening my pace, I hurried down the steps and onto the concrete path that led me back. Skipping the bus seemed wise; I could save my pocket change and stick to my well-worn route. Familiarity tinged every step; I wasn’t worried about getting lost.

 

The vibrant sounds of the bustling street enveloped me—a chaotic symphony of chatter, the blaring of horns, and the relentless hum of activity. It was easy to lose myself in this whirlwind of noise, to temporarily escape from my worries.

 

But then, a sudden chill danced across my skin, a sensation that felt all too familiar. Something in the air shifted, pricking my instincts like a warning bell.

 

That gnawing feeling, the same one I’d sensed back in the cafeteria, crept back in—only this time, it was sharper, more insistent.

Someone is following me.

 

Notes:

Does Anon actually have a conscience?

Chapter 4: Battered and Bruised: I

Summary:

Not enough...

 

–Anon–

 

Tracing my steps, I instinctively made four rights, a maneuver that felt almost automatic in the mounting anxiety. The shadows stretched unnervingly around me, and I could still feel it—that ever-looming presence that clung to my heels.

 

Yep, I am indeed being followed.

 

Clenching my jaw, I tried to suppress the growing sense of dread. Creep wants to follow someone, right? Then I’d give them something interesting to chase.

 

I quickened my pace, intentionally projecting an air of confidence as if I’d sensed their presence all along. Suddenly, I broke into a full sprint, tucking the pizza boxes tightly beneath my arm, the smell of cheese and pepperoni wafting in contrast to the growing panic. I darted down the street, heart racing, but even with the adrenaline surging through me, I could still feel that ominous figure trailing behind me. Guess shaking this guy wouldn’t be as simple as I hoped.

 

Change of plans—I veered into an abandoned alleyway, a narrow passageway littered with forgotten debris. I weaved and ducked, knocking over a few discarded boxes and rusted cans in a desperate bid to slow my pursuer down. With each step, the sound of my racing heart seemed to echo off the crumbling brick walls.

 

Turning around, I caught a fleeting glimpse of my pursuer. He was still hot on my trail, a menacing silhouette against the dim light. Wreathed in a black hoodie that obscured his features and dark blue jeans that melded with the shadows, he exuded an air of danger that made my skin crawl.

 

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was—

 

No, focus. Shake him off.

 

I took a series of detours, twisting and turning through winding pathways that began to warp into unfamiliar territory. The environment blurred, the once-familiar streets morphing into a disorienting maze of uncertainty. Just when I thought I might be able to escape, I took one last turn and skidded to a halt.

 

Shit!

 

It's a dead end.

 

Panic surged through me as I whipped around, desperately searching for an escape route. My heart sank when I saw him—a menacing figure now blocking the alley’s entrance, his presence suffocating as he took slow and deliberate steps toward me. The soles of his shoes scraped against the grimy pavement, scattering cockroaches and creating a sickening crunch beneath his weight.

 

I felt my hand instinctively dip into my pocket, fingers searching for the cool metal of the pocket knife. As I flipped the edge with a steadying breath, my knuckles tightened against the handle, bracing myself for whatever was about to unfold. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, and I knew that this confrontation was unavoidable

 

“No one to save you now, skinnie.” The voice called out.

 

What a second!

 

“Anderson?!” I called back.

 

“So you finally figured it out.” He pulls down the hood, his shaggy hair falling out.

 

I let out a sigh of relief, flipping the blade back into place.

 

“Dude. What’s wrong with you? Why the hell were you following me all the way to SkinRow?!” I exclaimed.

 

He points an accusatory finger “You know exactly why! You think I’d actually let you get away with the shit you did!” He shouts.

 

What I did— oh.

 

“Hey, let’s be real for a second. We’ve had our blow-up, and yeah, we both said some pretty harsh shit—maybe even did some even stupider shit. But you know what? It’s time to close the chapter on this. There’s no point in dragging it out any longer. Let’s leave this behind us and forget it ever happened.”

 

He shakes his head “No there’s no amount of talking to get you out of this skinnie, we’re finishing this right here and now. So don't try to pussy foot your way out of this now.”

 

I grimaced, “Can’t we just talk this out?”

 

He gives a toothy smile “No can do.”

 

I really don't want to hurt him. Dude might be a major dickhead but the last thing I want to do is fight him.

 

I let out a heavy sigh “Anderson… please just listen to me, I don’t want to—”

 

Before I could utter the next words I felt something hard smash against my cheek, cutting me off mid-sentence. I fall backward dropping my boxes of pizza as my back smacks against the brick wall.

 

“STOP. TALKING.” He gritted.

 

I raised a hand against my cheeks, a faint metallic taste began to fill my mouth, I spit on the ground some dribblets of blood came out smacking against the concrete. My fist tightened at the sight. 

 

Well, I tried.

 

He smirked “What? Never—”

 

I did let him finish his sentence before delivering a right hook to the side of his snout causing him to jitter back. He stumbles backward before regaining his footing. He looks shocked, as if not expecting me to deliver such a blow. 

 

I held my hands up high to protect my face and head clenching my fist but releasing them slightly I kept my elbows close to my body while keeping my weight evenly distributed on both feet. An almost perfect stance.

 

Rule 1: Fighting a saurian is never a fair matchup; they hold all the cards. With their claws, horns, and razor-sharp teeth poised to rip you apart at a moment's notice, they have the upper hand. 

 

If I want to come out on top, I must do everything in my power to tilt the scales in my favor.

 

Anderson didn't wait a second longer as he began charging at me with his head down.

 

I dodge out of the way light on my feet as I let the raging dino slam into the wall. He hit it with a hard thud causing yelp in pain.

 

I quickly move, delivering a clean jab to his jaw. His head recoils but I’m not done just yet as I deliver two more blows striking somewhere on his body. This doesn't seem to faze him as he throws out a wild hook, I quickly put up my guard blocking the blow but the blunt force that came with it quickly shook me.

 

He goes to deliver a jab to which I quickly dunk while delivering a counter blow to his side, sending him kneeling slightly over but not enough to stagger him as he starts to follow up with another. I quickly jumped back just barely avoiding it.

 

Damn, he’s a bit tougher than I thought, but that's not enough to discourage me. It's mostly his saurian genes that give him the advantage, those scales dulling my blows from their full impact not to mention that strength is no joke. I can tell he has never really been in fights much as his skills are a bit sloppy but maybe I could use that to my advantage.

 

With no hesitation this time I’m the one to initiate contact delivering a solid punch to which Anderson tries to respond with one of his own but I quickly shut that down before delivering a crooked left jab that landed directly on his snout stunning. 

 

I cease the moment delivering a flurry of blows hoping to get some form of damage in. It seems to do the job as Anderson hurls over.

 

I grab him by his hair delivering a quick and decisive knee to his snout, and a sudden crack rings out.

 

“AARGH!!” He yells out.

 

Good, Now—

 

I'm cut short as Anderson grips me by my jacket, his claws dig into my back causing me to hiss in pain. This is just what he wanted as quickly uses all of the strength he can muster to lift me off the ground before slamming me into the concrete below with a sickening thud, knocking the wind out of me.

 

I wasn’t even given time to recover before he shifted all of his weight on top of me, and relentlessly delivered a series of blows to my face. Off of pure instinct I put my hands up to shield my face as I try my damnedest to protect myself from the onslaught of blows.

 

“YOU THINK SOO FUCKING TOUGH HUH?!!! WHAT ABOUT NOW!!” He yells as he viciously delivers blow after blow.

 

Think Anon. There’s gotta—

 

Before I finish that thought he delivers a heavy blow to my abdomen. 

 

“YOU THINK SOME BIG SHIT JUST BECAUSE YOU MOVED HERE? WELL NEW FLASHED. YOU’RE! NOT! SHIT!” He punctuated every word with each blow getting harder than the last.

 

I could feel the fight draining from me with every punishing blow, the weight of my arms growing heavier as I began to slip into the abyss of unconsciousness. 

 

‘Are you really that weak?’ taunted a sinister voice, its laughter echoing in my ears like a chilling reminder.

 

‘Maybe your father was right about you….’ The words twisted like a dagger in my heart, deepening my sense of despair.

 

With a surge of adrenaline and a hint of rage I find a second wind to deliver a brutal headbutt to the nose of him.

 

“FUCK!!” 

 

I quickly took leeway as it pushed it against the ground, swapping positions as I was now the one on top of it. I quickly delivered blow after blow to his face. Each one of them held a piece of my built-up anger over the years.

 

WHACK

 

Not enough.

 

CRACK

 

Not enough.

 

WHACK

 

Still not enough.

 

Blow after blow I continued my assault with no signs of slowing down with each punch growing heavier and more brutal with each connection. I didn't stop; I couldn’t stop.

 

With a desperate attempt to stop the beating he reached up using his sharp claws to swipe at my neck, his reach fell short as he could manage to slash my chest.

 

Whether it was the adrenaline talking or just whatever it was just pure anger I ignored it and continued my whaling on him. My fist pounded against his face again and again, slowly flattening him, I wanted nothing more than to turn him into red paste against the floor.

 

"Please… stop," He implored, His form quivering at the edges, an embodiment of raw desperation that spoke of profound, buried fears. There was a quaking in his voice, a trembling that resonated with the weight of regret. 

 

“Please… I swear I won’t do it again,” it pleaded, the words spilling forth in a frantic rush, as if trying to grasp at fading strands of reason that had long since slipped away in my mind.

 

‘Not enough,’ a cold, echoing voice whispered in the back of my mind, a persistent reminder that haunted me like a specter.

 

It’s true—what lay before me still fell short of any forgiveness. I raised my hand, the air heavy with anticipation, poised to strike once more.

 

It’s. 

 

Not. 

 

Enough.

 

“PLEASE!!” One final, agonizing plea rang out, a raw and desperate cry that pierced through the silence before everything succumbed to darkness.

…..

I struggled to catch my breath, each gasp a frantic attempt to draw in some oxygen. My chest felt like it was on fire, a wave of searing pain coursing through my body as the chilly air stung my skin.

 

“What? What… hap—”

 

My words were cut short as my gaze dropped to the ground. Anderson lay sprawled on his back, his face was a bloody mess as his face was almost unrecognizable, his eyes swollen shut as he laid there completely motionless. It was as if he were a marionette whose strings had been abruptly severed.

 

A jolt of shock surged through me, and instinctively, I stumbled back, my heart racing as I scrambled to put distance between us. 

 

It happened.

 

I finally lost control.

 

I quickly crawled my way over towards him, I gave him a few smacks on the cheek to elicit some kind of response but got nothing in return. 

 

Shit! 

 

I checked again. He’s still breathing but damn he’s out cold.

 

My hands trembled as I fished my phone out of my pocket, quickly dialing 911. My fingers danced wildly over the buttons as I tried to stay calm, but just before I could hit 'call'—

 

‘What do you think you’re doing?! You think calling an ambulance is a good idea, what will they think when they see a skinnie standing over a bloodied and bruised saurian? You’ll be in the back of a squad car before you know it, and do you really want that?’

 

My fingers clutched the phone with a desperate intensity, its shrill sound piercing the air as the grip on it tightened with each passing second. 

 

‘Then grab your shit and go, and don't look back.’ the voice demanded, cutting through my fog of panic.

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, I sprang to my feet and bolted out of the alley, not daring to glance back. The world around me felt distorted as if I were submerged in water, muffling the chaos behind me. But there was no room for doubt; all that mattered in that moment was one singular thought…

 

I just want to go home.

Notes:

"You think just because I'm a skinnie I'd be weak!?"

"Think Anderson Think!"

Notes:

Something I thought about while sitting in bed. Are there any Sage lovers out there?