My parents aren't home by the time I get back from school, and I'm a total mess compared to how I was this morning. My cheek is black and blue, and my legs are totally scratched up. Alex kindly walked me home. He's done so much for me.

"You didn't have to walk home with me, y'know," I say to him when we arrive at my house.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home safe. That guy punched you really hard. I didn't want you fainting or anything on the way here if he hit your head really hard."

I'm not an expert on head injuries, but I know that you could receive a fatal injury from a hard hit from your head. I only know that because I've had personal experiences before.

"I should get going now," Alex adds.

"Oh, right," I say, turning around to walk into the house.

"Hey, um, I wish we could... talk a little more. I'd like to know more about you."

I look at him. "Like... texting?"

"Sure!" he says. "We could do that."

I pause. "Oh... I don't have your phone number." I freeze when I recognize what I say. Does that count as a smooth move? I really don't know. I mean, what Alex said did lead into this.

"Here..." he says, taking out his phone. He shows me the screen, and it has his phone number on it. I pull out my phone and put his number in my contacts. I show him mine too and he copies it down.

I'm actually sharing my phone number with Alex. This would be all I could've ever dreamed of in eight grade. Getting anyone's phone number would've been great, but this is Alex's.

"Thank you for... this," I say, putting my phone back in my pocket.

"You're welcome," he replies. "You can text me anytime. Or call."

"Anytime?"

"I mean, yeah, but I may not always answer soon."

I smile to myself, but I try to hide it. I look at the ground. "Okay," I say. "Bye."

Alex waves his hand goodbye as he walks away. I watch him walk down the street, becoming smaller and smaller as he walks further and further away from my house. When I can't see him at all, I turn and walk into my house.

He's so nice, I think as I set down my backpack on the floor. He saved me from probably getting severely injured and has helped me during gym class. I sit down at the dining room table with my phone, staring at his contact of the screen. I should thank him again. I click on the contact and press "send an message". I'm sure he won't mind if I text him now.

I sit there for a while, thinking about something to say. I want this first text to him to be good. After a little bit, I type something up and send it:

Me: Hi Alex, I just wanted to thank you again for everything you did for me today.

I have to wait for a few minutes, but he replies:

Alex: no problem! i'm glad to be helping you! how are you feeling?

Me: I'm okay. Just a little sore.

Alex: that's normal. i would always get hurt when i played sports when I was younger.

Me: You would get this badly hurt?

Alex: not that bad, but it's definitely normal.

I hear knocking on the front door, and I walk up to it and look through the small glass window on the door to see who it is. My mom would always tell my sister and I to always check who was at the door in case it was a stranger.

And it is my mom. She's home very early. I open the door for her and turn around so she doesn't see all of my cuts and scrapes and bruises.

"Hi, Earnie," she greets, walking inside.

"Hi," I say, walking up the stairs.

"Hey, you didn't kiss me."

I keep walking. "I-I have to go do homework."

"You have time. Are you trying to avoid me? Turn around and look at me," my mom says as if she could read my mind.

I stop at the top of the stairs.

"Come down the stairs, Earnest."

I slowly turn around and walk back down the stairs with my head low. I can already predict what will happen.

My mom rushes over to me. "Oh my god! Earnest! What happened?"

"I just got hurt a little bit in gym class," I say, brushing it off. "It's not a big deal."

"How did you get so beat up from just gym class?" she asks. "You're not telling me something."

"That's it," I say. "That's it."

"I don't believe you," she says as she always does. "I'm worried."

"You don't believe anything I say." I walk to the stairs again, away from my mom. "I have to start homework."

"Not so fast," she says as she grabs my wrist gently. "Tell me what is going on."

"Nothing! You want me to do well in school, right? You're always telling me to do my homework, and now you don't want me to? Can you make up your mind?"

"That's not what I'm saying, just—"

"Just leave me alone, for a little while!" I shout, breaking free from her grip and running up the stairs.

I run into my room and slam the door closed. "Just for a little while," I say softly to myself, sitting down in my swivel chair. Outside my room, I hear the soft creaking of the wood by the door, getting louder and louder, meaning that's someone's walking towards my room. It can only be my mom.

I stay silent as the creaking stops. I wait for a few seconds, and I hear the creaking again, this time getting softer and softer as my mom walks away from my room. I guess she wanted to talk to me, but she didn't anyway.

Whatever. I don't want to talk to her anyway.