"Die! you little brat," Nadia screams at the cracked screen on her iPhone 7.

We wait at our usual lunch spot, with the aroma of soggy fries and vomit soda hovering from the close proximity of the cheap lunch line. Our friend, Scarlett waits in line for the cafeteria lunch. Nadia plays her addicting games, as she always does when she's stressed. Her dyed pink and purple flops on top of her head, in a low bun, and I wonder how her strict fashion mother let her leave the house.

"Why are you so mad?" I ask, already regretting it the moment that Nadia visibly blows red before I'm finished the sentence.

"These stupid middle school kids are killing me, taking my loot, while they should be listening in class, rather than ignoring their teachers. 

I slowly nod my head, like I understood anything she said. Wishing that Scarlett could come back quickly so that I don't have to deal with a sad and angry Nadia at once. This was bound to happen to her, as she has the biggest test of the year, and judging by her aloofness, something that she still hasn't studied for.

 I look up to see Scarlett balancing her phone in one hand, texting, and holding the lunch tray in the other. And she's not alarmed at all. She better not drop that on the floor, because I'm not going to be the one to pick that up.

"Scarlet! Sit down quickly!" I ask as she approaches the table.

She looks up at me, away from her lit-up phone, "I'm coming to the table, what else?"

I shrug, mentally trying to get rid of this situation at this moment. I feel like this day just keeps getting worse, as Nadia has almost lost her mind with this coming test, and Scarlett is just being her usual risk-taking self.

"Babe, don't you have a test to study for?", Scarlett asks Nadia, and she looks at me worried when she doesn't get a reply.

I worry about Nadia too, but there's nothing I can do when she does this to herself. She has the hardest test in Math, which has never been her strong suit, and she's deliberately putting off studying for it. She knows her parents are really strict, and will probably ground her for this, but she's procrastinating.

"Hey, do you need some help, I can look through some of it, and help you out." Scarlett puts down her phone, which is constantly lighting up with messages. I feel a pang of admiration for my friend, who is willing to put away her addiction with whoever she's texting, to help a lost soul like Nadia.

"I'm okay, my parents are already mad because of Haris anyways, so none of this matters."

Scarlett's smile disappears, and her eyes shut close; she runs a hand over her forehead. We both know what Nadia's parents are capable of. Individuals that are swimming with riches, but their riches lack emotions and kindness to Nadia.

I squeeze Nadia's shoulders, lacking the words to comfort her in this dire state.

Scarlett pushes her fries towards Nadia because food is the only comfort when words aren't enough.

"But I'm going to meet him next week, with or without my parent's approval."

"That's our girl!" I state, smiling.

Scarlett nods her head, in an animated manner, "And one test doesn't matter at all, just do what I do, bullshit your way through it, life works better that way."

The noise goes off on Nadia's phone, the dance music from her game, and she turns it off with a click. "Of course, you're right, Star, what's up with you?"

I smile, nudging Nadia's shoulders playfully, "Don't think we didn't notice that smile on your face with whoever you're texting put on your face."

"We notice everything like baby Yoda." Nadia laughs, which is barely audible, a signature laugh of hers.

She looks down, smiling that shy smile that I've never seen before, and my eyebrow furrow, "It's no one."

I look at Nadia beside me, eyebrows raised, mouth pushes back in disbelief.

"Don't look like that, it's seriously no one. Alright, tell me, which one of you is coming with me to the hockey game next period."

I laugh, "That was an epic conversation changer, but I guess I am, we'll pray for you, Nad."

Grabbing Nadia by her shoulders, I hold her in my embrace. I can tell by now that procrastinating was a mere medium to distract herself from the huge monumental task in front of her. Haris is a good guy, it's too bad that her parents can't see it, just because of dumb, insignificant differences.

"Aww, now I feel lonely," Scarlett complains, putting out her hand to Nadia who holds her hand.

When we pull back, Nadia has tears in her eyes, and she wipes them away. I smile at her, not talking about what I saw. It's sometimes enough to acknowledge the reaction, but not have to talk about it.

The bell rings, eliciting a sudden reaction from students. Lunches are thrown away, students slowing down to get that last word with their friends. Scarlett stands up, dumping her tray away into the trash.

"You sure you don't want to skip and come with us to the game," Scarlett asks, as she maneuvers herself between me and Nadia, hooking our arms together. She leads us out of the emptying cafeteria, walking with the hundred of students rushing to get to class.

Nadia breaks out of the connection, and runs in front of us, "Wish me luck, babes, I'll be off to fail like the boss that I am. Skipping in the hallway, talking with everyone like the social butterfly that she is, mixing with everyone like she never showed her vulnerable side just a while ago. I never did understand how she managed to do that.

Then she turns around again, "Also I got to pick up my brother's pills and take care of him after school, so can't skip today, but next time, for sure."

The students have all rushed out at this point, leaving only a couple loitering around, other than me and Star.

Hockey games aren't as big of a sport as other sports, such as football, but the spirit stills pour out of the student's soul for the big hockey game happening in the gym. Our schools don't do the games after school, as that is deserved for the more popular sports, like football or basketball.

There are howls and sad cheering that enter my ears as soon as we walk into the cold gym. The hair on my arms stands up, creating goosebumps as the cool air hits my skin.

"Let's sit closer to the bottom, so we can see them clearly." Scarlett takes my arm, leading me between the huddled students, and sitting right in the middle of the seats.

I take my phone out, hitting play on my calming music so that I don't have to hear the obnoxious cheering done by students that are way too excited for a Monday morning. Or maybe they're just excited that they have a legitimate reason to skip class. Like they wouldn't do that either way.

The cheering gets louder as the team rushes in, adorned with our school colors, yellow and purple. I just noticed that Scarlett dressed up with a frilly purple shirt paired with her black shorts like she is making a statement. For something, or someone.

They skate onto the ice, making two lines, as they wait for their opponents. My eyes hurt from watching the game, as they look so far away, floating on the ice, in their own world. The puck slides off into the side of the ice, as both team's captains head to head in the face-off.

The sudden ringing of my phone has me standing up in alarm. Suddenly aware of the worried glance that Star sends me, I wave at her, signalling that I'm on a call. I walk through the way that we came, standing outside with the few students that are buying snacks from the vending machines, I pick up the call, sliding my finger on accept.

"Hey, mom!"

I hear her walking, and then a loud thud like she's just slammed the door echoes in the speaker. She sighs loudly, sitting on what seems like her bed, as the volume echoes in different vibrations.

"You need to come home now." My mom's soft voice says angrily, but her voice breaks like she's afraid.

I sit down on the cold metal floor by the stairs. This always ends up happening to me. A day will go by without any worries, feeling like I'm floating on a cloud, like nothing can bother me when I'm on a good day's high. But then something terrible will come up, break me out of my trance, and more often than not, it's something to do with my parents.

"I'm with Scarlett, we're at the hockey game."

My brain nearly explodes when she yells in the mic. "What part of 'come home' do you not understand, Melanie. Your dad came home drunk, and he knows how you get." Her voice drops to a low whisper like an octave.

"Alright ... mom, I'll be there in 10."

Dropping my phone, my hands drop onto my head, holding them in a protective manner. Heart dropping to my feet, and the world spins.

This was inevitable. I knew a day like this was too good to be true.

The chill hits me again, but this time the heat of my anger simmers the frigid temperature of the ice. The thought hits me that some things are different. People are standing up, watching what's happening in the arena. The loud hooting and annoying clapping have stopped, and I ignore the exasperated looks that I receive when I have to pass through the tight rows a second time.

"What happened?" I ask Scarlett, who looks like a ghost when she looks up at me. The color has drained off her face.

She tries to speak, but she bursts into tears. Her hands cover her mouth, and I scoot over to her. "Mel, he got hurt."

The arena is in eye's distance from where I'm sitting, but I don't understand what's happening. It's cleared up, only the other team skates around in circles, and I try to comprehend. Our principal is on the ice talking to the coach, and the nurse sits on the other side. A pair of eyes stare at me across from the penalty box. But without my glasses, I don't know who it is, and they look away before I see who it is.

"He beat him black and blue, I wanted you to meet him."

Drawing circles on her back, I try to comfort her. "Who?"

"Marcus... the boy I've been talking to. The sad part is that he got beat up by his own captain."

Scrunching my eyebrows, I look up to see the nurses holding ice to the poor man's shoulder, who I think is Scarlett's Marcus.

"Isn't it sad the one who was given the position to help the team win, is fighting with his own teammates, making them look like cavemen?" Scarlett looks up at me with tear-rimmed eyes, and my heart goes out for her.

But there has to be more. Every story has two sides. And everyone tells the version of the story that makes them look good.