I looked awkwardly around the hallway, exhaling a long "uhm..." in response. I wasn't sure why it mattered, or why he asked. "Myself, why?"

"Because you drive a manual car, Lucas. That's your shifting hand, and I wasn't born yesterday." He said bluntly. I stuttered, shocked that Coach even remembered that little fact about me. "Your father drive you by chance?" He added, and his expression turned into a bit of a scowl.

"N-no... he didn't. It was a friend, a friend drove me, alright?" I sighed, throwing my hand up with frustration. "Look, Coach, why does it even matter? I saw a doctor, okay? They took care of my hand and I'll be fine. Isn't that enough?" The look on his face said it all, and I think for the first time, my injuries just... I couldn't explain them away anymore. How many lies had I told him I wondered, and how many had he not believed?

Coach sighed and shook his head. "Sure, Lucas."

"Then... I'll be going to the office now; I'll see you at practice." I nodded and spun on my heel to leave, walking briskly to avoid any further conversation with him. I could feel him looking on at me as I left, but I didn't care, and I didn't intend on being truthful about my situation just because Coach stared me down. I needed to drop this and get to pre-Calc, which had already started by now. I rounded the corner and entered the main office, finding the secretary sitting there tapping away at her computer. Everything was decorated for Fall, with pumpkin cut-outs hung across the desk, and school spirit signs on the walls, I even thought I smelled the scent of a pumpkin-apple wall plug-in emanating from somewhere. Lingering there in front of her, I hoped she'd notice my presence, but it took a few minutes for her to stop and look up from her work.

I studied her badge, not recognizing "Erin Rowe" as the lady Jae may have talked to. She was a stout, plump woman with an ash-blonde Pixie—the cut looked almost severe on her round face, and she looked to be in a less than gracious mood.

"Are you just gonna stand there, or do you have something for me?" She groaned impatiently, reaching to take a sip of what I saw was a "pumpkin-spice, extra foam, extra pumpkin" latte.

"Um, yeah, I have this absence note from the doctor." I said, sliding the form across the desk. She put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses and eyed me suspiciously as she snapped it up.

"Doctor's note for what?" She questioned, eyeing it.

"Um... I'm pretty sure I don't have to tell you. Isn't that like private health information or some shi-I mean, s-something?" I pushed back, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Or something." She chuckled, taking her glasses off to study me. "Who are you exactly?"

"Uh... Lucas, Price? It's literally on the paperwork. Jae—I mean, m-my uncle called earlier and talked to a lady here about my absence. I had to go to the doctor, and um, this is my note... I just need to drop it off so I can get back to class."

"Well, he didn't talk to me." She yawned, getting up to scan my note.

I frowned, not sure how to respond to Erin with the bad hair. She really would benefit from a better haircut, but her nosy, rude demeanor was the cherry on top. Deciding it was best not to engage her, I simply said nothing, only observing as she worked. After a minute she returned with the note and filed it away into a cabinet, and then typed away for several more seconds.

"There, it's in your file. Need anything else, Lucas?" She stifled another yawn, slipping her hand into the drawer beneath her desk to pull out a packet of skittles. I love skittles and couldn't help but be slightly jealous; taste the rainbow and all that.

Shit, I really am gay. Heh.

"Hey!" she snapped her fingers a few times. "I asked if that was all, is that all?"

"Uh... no, does that mean I can go?" I blinked, realizing my had brain rabbit-trailed again.

"I already said it's in your file." She smirked, shooing me away with a manicured hand. "Go away, get to class." I nodded, more than happy to disappear.

It was a short walk to pre-Calc, and I tried to slip into class as quietly as possible. Mr. Song was in the middle of talking, and he made a point of studying me as I maneuvered myself into the seat.

"No hello, Lucas?" He smirked, pulling his glasses off to look me over. Song was a petite, slight-statured man, and very handsome in a sort of nerdy, and effeminate kind of way. He always kept his hair about collar-bone length, and it always reminded me of silky black licorice; always half-up, with soft bangs framing his face perfectly. Really, Song is quite beautiful, and for some reason I always wondered if he was maybe queer like me. He never talked about his personal life outside of class though like some of the other teachers here—he was very private, and soft-spoken, and all I knew was that he was working on his Master's. In general, everyone who takes his class adores him. He's in his mid-twenties, and by far the youngest teacher on staff. I suppose I'd always had a bit of a crush on the man; I mean, I know many of the girls do too.

I was still somehow an inch or two taller than him, which was amusing, because I'm not a tall dude. Ellis Song couldn't have been any bigger than five foot three at the most. Sure, maybe I'd daydreamed about running my fingers through his soft-looking hair here and there. Maybe I'd had brief imaginings of doing naughty things to Song a few times, but I knew better than to cross a line like that in real life. Fantasies were fantasies, and those specifically would stay locked deep in the vault that was my smutty golden-retriever brain.

"Lucas, did you hear me?" He repeated, rolling the sleeves of his Mushroom sweatshirt up neatly to the forearm. Mr. Song loves mushroom décor, and mushroom stuffies, especially if they have cute little faces on them; he has several on his desk.

"Uh... what?" I grinned awkwardly, realizing I'd not quite heard him the first time; I was too busy creeping on his appearance. He looked really cute today.

"You didn't even say hello, Lucas, and what's more is you're late." he said gently, sliding his glasses back on. I love those black-rimmed glasses on Song.

"Sorry Mr. Song..." I blushed. "I uh, I had sort of a little medical mishap this morning and had to go to urgent care." I raised my splinted hand and shrugged, shooting him an apologetic grin. Song's dark, almond-shaped eyes widened a little, and he raised his brow. "I assume you have an absence note then, yes?"

I nodded. "Yeah, the office lady scanned it or something and put it in my file. Do you need a copy?"

He shook his head and slid his hands into his pockets, but his gaze was unwavering.

"Those bruises also from the same medical mishap?"

"Uh... no, not really." I responded, forcing another smile. I was about to scream if one more person commented on my injuries. Sure, I'd come to Song's class with a few bumps and bruises before, but he always seemed to accept the explanations I had for them—I played soccer after all, soccer can get a bit rough, and I'd taken many a tumble during scrimmages and games. "K-karate!" I blurted out, pointing at my face, while also hating myself for again using Karate. What was it with me and Karate being the first thing I thought of?

He tilted his head and ran his eyes over me once more. I think he knew I was full of shit about the Karate thing, but he didn't argue.

He stared for a moment longer then sighed, mouthing a hushed "okay", before turning his attention back to his notes. "Go ahead and get started trying to solve what's on the board, Lucas."

I gave him a thumbs up with my good hand, faltering as I considered that solving equations with my non-dominate hand had never been something I'd attempted before, but I was determined to try nonetheless; I had six weeks with this stupid splint, so I'd have to make do.

It was slow going, trying to write lefty, but I managed. Class seemed to drag by, not because Song's lecture sucked, but because my hand fucking hurt and I couldn't write well. It took me about forty minutes to figure I probably needed somebody to help me take notes, but I wasn't sure how to ask for that, or who to ask. I'd never not had a usable hand before, and I began contemplating how I'd jerk myself off realistically. Jerking it with my left hand was going to feel super awkward, but I guess I'd have to make do with that, too.

A tap at my shoulder drew me from my thinking, and I found Jordan behind me, an earnest expression on her made-up face. My heart sort of faltered, and I racked my brain, wondering how I'd not noticed her when I walked in. We shared this class together, but I guess this time... this time I wasn't looking for her. I gave her a little nod, and she discreetly gestured to her phone.

After a few seconds I felt mine buzz, and I tried my best to fish it out of my pocket without Song noticing. He was a doll, but he was known to confiscate phones until the end of class if we couldn't keep our noses out of them, and I couldn't exactly blame him.

I opened the text awkwardly, keeping my head up as best I could to watch the board. After a few discreet glances, I read her text.

Jo: sorry about your hand. What happened to it? Also, how have you been? Ian said u weren't at chem this morning and Massey was acting like a wild witch