Max lugged his backpack to the faculty stairway as usual, chewing on some Hubba Bubba bubblegum. He smiled.
Adam waited in Max's spot, heeding to the plan. Yesterday, they had assessed the situation and decided they would make sure the seniors wouldn't come back and do anything to either of them.
If they came through the stairwell again, Adam would walk up and confront them, asking them why they had scared a disabled kid and that if they did it again, they would warn their coach about their behavior and get them all kicked off the team.
Of course Max wasn't necessarily disabled, just a bit different.
Just then, Max felt heavy footsteps on the stairway. Adam rapped his shoulder. The senior from the previous day scowled at them. He said something to Adam, who clearly wouldn't take anything the kid said for an answer.
Adam began to talk, and Max watched the seniors face change as he listened to Adam. Just as Adam began to laugh, the jock got a look in his eye that made Max nervous.
"Adam!" Max yelled, or what felt like a yell, to Adam, as he turned around unsuspectingly. The jock found the back of Adams collar, and yanked as hard as he could, back and up.
Max was glad he couldn't hear the choked sounds Adam was surely making. He dangled by the fabric, clutching at his throat. The jock smiled. He said something else, and then looked at Max. Adam struggled, but he got himself free, visibly coughing. He motioned for Max to run out. They did, only the jock was following them.
They ran frantically to their bikes, wary of the group of muscular senior football players who converged on them.
When they got to their street, Max yelled "split up!" As well as he could, swerving into the trail that ran through the forest in their neighborhood.
To Max's surprise, none of the bikers followed Adam. Only Max. Max pedaled faster and faster, starting to slide on tree roots.
He panted, looking behind himself constantly. No matter how fast he rode, those kids would catch up. Max stopped with a skid. No need to wear himself out and get caught anyway. He would have to fight.
The group slammed their bikes on the ground. Max stood his ground, holding the most confident stance he'd ever made, even though really, he felt terrified.
"Stay away from me." He tried to say, backing up slowly. The lead jock kept moving foreword. He said something, Max did not know what.
Before max realized it at all, another senior had crept up behind him. A muscular arm wrapped around his neck, shocking Max. The lead guy walked over, punching Max in the gut. He threw another punch at his stomach, which caused Max to vomit, spilling his school lunch on the leafy ground.
He punched Max in the throat next, smiling at him maniacally. Max cringed at the pain. The jock looked max in the eyes, saying something Max couldn't hear. Max clawed at the kid who's arm was holding him. He punched Max in the eye then.
Then he punched him in the jaw, and smirked, saying something else. One of the other kids said something worriedly, and the leader scowled and let go of Max.
Max fell to the ground, gasping, clutching his stomach, curled into a ball. Just as the kid had let go of Max, Adam rode into the scene, wide eyed. He ran over to Max, checking him out.
Adam cursed at the bullies, and they went off, as if nothing had happened. Adam had a frantic look in his eye as he looked over at Max. "Damn" it looked like he'd said when he sat down. Max pointed at his jaw and his stomach and let his pain make his next expression.
Adam was shocked, helping Max mount his bike again. They rode slowly back to Max's house, Max catching his breath.
When Adam told Max's mother what had happened, she looked furious. She walked over to Max, inspecting the bruises that the bullies had left on his body.
A minute later, their mother was writing a note to the school about the incident, and Max sat with an ice pack on his face, clutching his stomach. Adam and him had been shocked at first from the brutality, but now they laughed in disbelief.
Adam called some of his friends to tell them what happened and it seemed to Max that they were getting a bit of popularity from it.
After awhile, Adam went home and Max retreated to dinner. His mother chatted a bit, sharing some things from work.
After dinner, Max went to his room, reminiscing about the fight with the bullies. Well, really it was more of an attack. After all, Max hadn't even thrown a single punch.
Something caught his eye then, disturbing his thoughts. A few papers stuck out against the wall and a paperweight. He got up, going over to them. He took a closer glance, and tears filled his eyes. It was all the band songs.
He backed out of the room, feeling the pang to cry. He ran to the bathroom, slamming the door, tears springing out of his eyes. "This is all because of my stupid self. All of it. If I had just watched the road..." he couldn't hear himself, but it hurt to talk. His head throbbed, and his body ached. He was exhausted. He hurt all over.
He went back to his room sniffling and wiping his tears with his shirtsleeve. He looked out of the window again to the small roof. He looked at the graying sky. He wondered what lightning would feel like.
"Ah, m-mom," he said suddenly, his voice shaking, feeling vibrations through his feet. He sniffled, trying to make it look like he hadn't been crying.
She tapped his shoulder, and he turned around. She had a worried look in her eye. She ran downstairs, and confused, Max followed. She ran out the door without closing it.
Max became worried. His mother never left the door open. Ever. He swallowed, fearing to look outside. He did, and he only realized the scene once he'd looked for a minute.
A girl, bleeding from her mouth, came slowly towards the porch from the road. She wore a tattered black hoodie and jeans, ripped and muddied. She held her stomach, grimacing. Max felt a pang of sympathy for her, and he forced his legs to move towards her. She looked at him, desperate for support. Max looped his arm under hers, and walked her to the porch and into the house.
His mother was actively talking on the phone, probably 911. Who was this girl? And what had happened to her? Max cleared his throat. "Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, watching her face. She didn't respond at all. He said it again, but no response. His mother hung up the phone then, walking over to them. She said something to the girl, and again she didn't react.
Then it hit Max.
"Mom?" He signed to his mother frantically. "Yes?" She signed back. "I think she's deaf-like me." Max signed, feeling hopeful. If she really was deaf, then he would have someone he could finally talk to, who could understand what he was going through!
He tapped her shoulder. She turned her head towards him. Max was about to grab his notepad when he felt her head hit his shoulder. He looked down at her, his breath catching in his throat. He winced, tapping her. She didn't move. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He shook her, lifting her chin up to see her face. Her eyes were fluttering open and closed, and she didn't seem to be breathing.
She seemed to muster all of her strength into pressing down on her abdomen. Max tried to lift her hands off, but she wouldn't let him. She was at the point of over exertion, and she couldn't hold him off for longer than thirty seconds. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she leaned into him. She had passed out.
Max looked worriedly at her abdomen, but nothing seemed wrong. He lifted up the sweatshirt, and gasped. Her stomach had been bandaged so tightly that she couldn't get enough air in without passing out, but it was also blood soaked. If max took the bandage off, she could breathe, but how much blood had she already lost? Which would kill her faster?
"Mom! We need to get to the hospital! Now!" Max hollered, looking for her to zoom around the kitchen corner. She did, and when she saw her, she frantically signed "There's already an ambulance on its way!"
Max sighed with the littlest relief he could get. He swallowed, staring at her. An awkward feeling of love came over him then, and it was all he could do to hug her. Her hair tickled his cheek as he rested his head on top of hers. Her blood trickled down his hands as he held her. He had to keep this girl safe. She couldn't die. She was all he had. The only one like him. She had to live.
A tear slipped down his cheek as he looked at her. He looked at the girls jawline, and watched her still, soft, pale face. This girl...she was beautiful.
Vibrations interrupted his thoughts then, and his mother ran to the door. EMT's burst in with a small cot, carefully taking the girl out of Max's arms and bringing her back to the ambulance. He and his mother ran out to the vehicle, hopping in and watching the girl anxiously. Nurses seemed to dance around the ambulance in a rhythm of order, their only way to find their beat in life. Order, labels, and solutions.
The ride was stressfully frantic and overwhelmingly slow. By the time they'd gotten to the hospital, the nurses wouldn't even let Max or his mother in the same room with the girl.
They made their way to the waiting room, Max grieving every second of time that seemed to pass without satisfaction. He paced around the room, ignoring the four other people that stared at him. He couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours before a nurse came in, her high heels making sharp vibrations in the carpet. She motioned for Max and his mother to come back to the girls room.
Max held his breath as he walked through the door. The same girl sat in a hospital bed, bolt upright, pain and confusion apparent in her pinched expression. She stopped struggling with the nurse holding her arm when she saw Max. She stared at him, till she had to blink the water from her eyes.
Everyone in the room was statues, staring at the girl and Max. Max broke the tension finally, walking slowly towards the bed. He looked long at the girl. He swallowed hard, his throat aching from the strain it took him not to cry.
"Your like me." He whispered. She didn't respond. She just smiled.