gives you hell (Cyn!)

[Deleted]

Spanish was evil. Ulyssus stared at the assignment sheet, and then again at the textbook. It didn’t look like a real language. It looked like gibberish. Sighing, he looked up at the teacher. If this continued for too long, he was going to have to ask for help. You could always re-take Spanish in Summer School, his homeroom teacher had told him. But he didn’t want to do that. Didn’t they get it? He had spent three years in this grade. He wanted to pass like a normal kid. Though, at the rate he was going, that wouldn’t happen. His mind was all jumbled, and all he could think about was what happened at the dance.

Though, he wasn't thinking about what had happened to him. Instead, he thought about what he had done. That girl--was she still alive? He had risked everything for her. He couldn't help it. The only teacher in the room had just been murdered. Next thing he knew, the Sniper was going after a girl. She looked so scared, he had to do something.

"Stop! Leave her alone!" he had yelled out, picking the person up. Next thing he knew, he felt a sharp pain shooting through his face. His cheek had blood trickling down it. Yelling, he let go, dropping the Sniper and putting his hand to his cheek."

Everything else was all a blur. He didn't even remember what happened next. According to the doctors, he had been knocked out with a blunt object (though, nobody had been able to tell him what he was with hit with), and the Sniper’s knife had gone in deep, just an eighth of an inch away from a blood vessel in his spine. Had he continued, the vessel would have raptured and he would have died. Ulyssus had no idea what any of that even meant. All he heard was you were knocked out and stabbed, blah blah blah. He had no idea why he wasn’t finished off, but he was thankful that he wasn’t. But when he asked about the girl, nobody knew what he was talking about. He had been hoping to find her, but he never even knew her name.

This was his first day back. He hadn’t really seen much of anyone since the dance. There was a long scar on his cheek, that when he first discovered it he had looked to his brother and jokingly said “Look, I’m Scarface!” And that was the attitude he had kept up. A few people stared, but most of them already knew why he had it. His father said he had been brave. He had said that it took a special kind of kid to risk his life for someone like that. A hero never goes unnoticed, he promised him. Not that it made any difference to him. He didn’t try to save her, so that he could have attention. He did it to save her.

A hand went through his hair as he, once more, stared at the paper. This wasn’t working. He didn’t get it. He was going to fail miserably. Frustrated, he slammed his textbook shut and stood up, going to the back wall. It was something he did when he got overwhelmed. He leaned against the wall, looking at his classmates. And that was when he noticed him.

Was that—It was! Dalton Stone. Ulyssus remembered him well, back before the boy had been kidnapped. He had often wondered what had happened to Dalton. Honestly, he always assumed that he had been murdered or something. He was glad to see that it hadn’t happened. Without thinking, he headed to his desk, dragging the desk next to his closer. “Hey! Do you remember me?” He asked Dalton with a grin. Sure, he was way taller than he used to be, and now he had this scar, but he was the same old Ulyssus! He hoped he remembered him. Uly could use a friend.