It takes time. The knuckles always turn red gradually. Then they darken, becoming maroon or purple, depending on how hard you hit. And then they hurt for a long time.

I bend and straighten my fingers, watching the skin stretch over my knuckles reluctantly, as if it's suddenly become too small. The blood has already dried. I pick at it with my nail, and fresh blood appears beneath, bright red.

I look away from my hand to avoid missing the first step on the stairs leading to the entrance of the house. My reflection in the glass looks like a ghost made of dark blue air. It's hard to tell if there are signs of a fight on my face.

Of course, there are...

Wiggins got me good - my cheekbone hurts. And it hasn't healed properly since last time.

I open the door and leave my backpack in the dark corridor. Mom's shoes are by the ottoman, and a moment later, I hear her voice from the living room, "Leighton, is that you?"

Instead of answering, I walk into the room where my mother sits on the sofa in front of a non-working TV. She glances at me, her eyes moving slowly as if she's about to fall asleep. She didn't spend the night at home yesterday, and she wasn't there this morning either, which means she just returned or something like that.

"Did you fight again?" she asks, frowning slightly, making her face look not only weary but also annoyed.

"Yeah," I reply. There's no point in lying. It's not the first time. And definitely not the last. We both silently look at each other. Mom seems to be asleep with her eyes open, but then she shakes herself awake and says, "Are you hungry? I bought pizza."

"Thanks," I say and head to my room. Not to change and have dinner, though. Mom's fatigue seems contagious. I fall onto my bed and close my eyes. But before I can drift away, my phone buzzes. I ignore it, but it buzzes again. Persistent son of a bitch.

On the cracked screen, there are notifications from Tanner. I don't want to read them, but I reach for my phone and unlock it.

"Pete's at 8," reads the first message. "Be there," says the second. "I mean it."

I huff and roll onto my back. My muscles still hum from the fight. I have neither the strength nor the desire to drag myself out of bed. The clock on my phone shows 6:06 PM. I guess I can allow myself an hour's sleep. With that thought, I close my eyes.

"Leighton, don't be late for school!" Mom's voice calls from the hallway, waking me up. As always, she doesn't wait for my response and walks out the door, shutting it behind her. I rub my eyes and glance around the room. I'm still in yesterday's clothes - crumpled and bloodstained.

I check my phone - 8:30. But aside from the time, message notifications catch my attention.

Damn... Tanner's going to kill me. Should I skip school today? But... What's the point in putting it off?

I climb out of bed, swap my hoodie for a cleaner one, and wash up. In the kitchen, I grab two slices of cold pizza and chew on them as I head for the door. Grabbing my backpack, I step outside just as the school bus pulls up.

I quicken my pace and toss the last piece of pizza to Kudo, the neighbor's pit bull. He stands with his front paws on the metal fence. He catches the pizza and swallows it almost instantly, his tail wagging cheerfully.

***
School is the usual hubbub. Students mill about, huddled in groups like schools of fish. I make my way to my locker and start to open it when someone jumps on me from behind.

"Why didn't you come to Pete's yesterday?" Liam asks without preamble, leaning against the door. "Tanner's pissed, so I'd avoid him if I were you," he smirks and pushes his blond hair back as some girls pass by.

"Didn't feel like it," I reply, avoiding his gaze. Liam raises an eyebrow as if I've said something amusing.

"Leighton, I still haven't heard from your mother," says a passing teacher, Ms. Evans. She stops and looks at me, her eyes lingering on the bruise on my cheek.

"She's busy with work, Ms. Evans," I answer, as usual.

"I understand, but..."

The bell rings, saving me from having to talk to Liam and Ms. Evans.

"I'm late for class," I say, making my escape. I don't care much for class, or school in general. PE is okay, especially when we're outdoors. Physics can be fun with all the experiments Ms. Cruz shows us. But other than that, school is boring.

I sneak into the classroom and take my seat in the far corner. Tanner, seated to my right, greets me with a glare from beneath furrowed brows. I avoid his eyes and pretend to read the sheet passed to me by the student in front. He'll have plenty of time to get back at me later; for now, I want to keep my peace. Resemblance of it.

The class drones on, and I get lost in my thoughts. Outside the window, the sky is dark and heavy. December's rain drizzles, marking the glass with crystal dots. Without the sun, the monotonous drone of the history teacher makes me sleepy. What's the point of history anyway? Some shit happened a million years ago. Some king killed a bunch of people and married his sister. Who cares?

When the bell finally rings, I'm about to shake off my sleepiness when Tanner's hand slaps it out of me, leaving a burning mark on the back of my neck. I duck instinctively, though there's no real point. But sometimes, the body works funnily.

"What the hell, jerk?" Tanner's bulky frame towering over me since he's a head taller. All my emotions, if I had any, were lulled by the boredom of the subject and gloomy weather, while Tanner's have been sizzling as never-dying fire in a struck-by-the-lightning log. And now he's even angrier than he was when he greeted me with a scowl. This guy knows how to hold a proper grudge.

"I was tired," I reply, matching my tone to my words. "I had... problems with Wiggins," I say, rubbing my bruised cheek. Tanner watches me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "I took care of it," I add.

A corner of Tanner's lips curls into a half-smile, but he quickly replaces it with another scowl. "What about the pills you promised?" he asks, lowering his voice even though we're practically alone in the classroom.

"Not now," I say. "The bottle's almost empty. She'll notice if I take more. I'll do it when she buys the next one."

"And when will that be?" he presses, growing impatient.

I shrug. "They're pricey, you know. So... I don't know..."

Tanner lets out an exasperated sigh, and his anger seems to deflate, leaving him only slightly annoyed. As we head to another class, a slim guy collides with Tanner. He bounces off Tanner's hard chest and stumbles back, stammering apologies. Tanner smirks as if friendly, but in his predatory smile there is as much friendliness as in the grin of a mad dog, but the guy takes it at face value.

Before he can take a step, Tanner grabs him by the elbow and points to a stain on his light T-shirt. It's then that I notice the guy has a split lip.

"Oh," he breathes out, looking at the red mark so small it's not worth bothering. But not for Tanner. His eyes bore relentlessly into the guy's face. "I... I can wash it..."

"Wash it?" Tanner raises his eyebrows theatrically. The guy looks confused and throws a glance my way, but I dismiss it. This is a one-man show. And you're in it. Just bear with it.

"Buy a new one?" the guy asks uncertainly, subtly trying to free his hand from Tanner's grip.

"A new one?" Tanner grins, "Well, why not?" But before the guy can breathe a sigh of relief, Tanner adds, "But you see, if you buy a new one for me, then my friend over here," he points at me, "will be upset. And when he's upset, bad things happen." He gives the guy a meaningful look.

"Are... are you trying to..." The guy tries to muster his courage, but his voice cracks a little. "Extort..."

"What?" Tanner raises his voice. "I thought you were trying to make it up to me. And now you're accusing me?"

I peek at the clock on my phone. The class is about to start, and I wish Tanner would wrap up his performance. I've seen it too many times already.

"No," the guy replies sheepishly.

"So don't go around throwing big words like 'extortion'," Tanner says airily. He releases the guy's hand and even pats his shoulder, adjusting his jacket. "And watch your step next time," he adds in a lower voice, sealing the message with an unkind half-smile. The guy retreats almost instantly, causing Tanner to grin. His mood noticeably improved. We make it to class just before the bell rings.

Mr. Edwards gives us an annoyed look as we come in. I think he still hasn't forgotten the incident with the projector when Tanner glued an outline of a dick onto the lens. It was stupid but funny. No one snitched, but it certainly didn't help dispel Edwards' suspicions.

Tanner strides toward the last desk, where Rory is already sleeping. Tanner prods him on the shoulder, and Rory jerks awake, looking around wildly. He really was asleep. Recognizing Tanner, Rory's tense fists relax, and his face softens slightly.

"Hey," he says, forcing a smile, though his eyebrows still knit together. Tanner takes a seat next to him. I nod and choose a desk right behind Liam. Throughout the lesson, I find myself staring at the back of his shirt, watching the fabric fold and unfold, creating abstract patterns that are more interesting than anything on Edwards' slides.

The bell finally rings, releasing us for lunch. I rummage through my pockets. Did I take the money mom left on the table this morning? Did she even leave them for me? Sometimes she forgets, or sometimes there's nothing to leave. Maybe she thought I'd take leftover pizza? But I didn't.

Still, I head down to the cafeteria with the crowd.

Tanner lazily grabs a tray and heaps food onto it, casting a sidelong glance my way. "Forgot your money again?" he asks casually.

I shrug. "I'm not hungry."

Tanner grunts and continues serving himself, no longer paying attention to me. Up ahead, he spots the same skinny guy from this morning, the one who bumped into Tanner. Dried blood crusts his split lip.

"Oh, buddy!" Tanner exclaims. In surprise, the guy first tucks his head between his shoulders and then turns around. Seeing Tanner, his eyes dart around the cafeteria. I wonder if the people around give him a sense of safety or, on the contrary, a feeling of exposure as if everyone here will be watching his downfall.

"Hey," he replies quietly.

Seems like it's the latter.

"I've got just the thing you can do for, you know, bumping into me, messing up my T-shirt, and calling me an," Tanner pauses dramatically, covering his mouth as if he's about to say something shameful, "extortionist!" He widens his eyes and gasps as if utterly scandalized. What a clown.

The guy squints at Tanner's tray. "What... what is it?" he asks meekly.

Tanner's eyebrows rise slightly, and his gaze drops to the tray. Apparently that's where they meet, because immediately after a pause, the guy says, "S..sure... let me treat you. And... we're even." He sure hopes so, because his words do not bear a shred of a statement. It's a plea at best or a timid question.

"Sure thing, pal," Tanner grins, slapping him on the back. The guy hurries off as quickly as possible. "Take your pick," Tanner says, glancing my way. "My treat," he grins.

I grab a couple of turkey sandwiches and a soda, adding them to Tanner's tray. The cafeteria lady rings us up, and the guy who paid for our meal quickly walks away.

Tanner leaves the tray for me to pick up. I follow him to the table where Rory and Liam are seated. As soon as I sit down next to Tanner and grab a sandwich, Tricia jumps onto his lap. Their initial greeting kiss stretches into a full-on make-out session. Unfazed, I start eating.

"Cut it out already!" Liam snaps.

Reluctantly, Tricia pulls away from Tanner and shoots Liam a look filled with undisguised disdain. "Are you jealous?"

"Are you fucking dumb?" Liam retorts, sneering. "What's there to be jealous of? That you're sucking face with Tanner? Or that Tanner is sucking face with my sister? I want to eat in peace, but you're making me want to throw up!"

"Are you going to let him talk to me like that, babe?" Tricia chirps into Tanner's ear. He just smiles and squeezes her hip. Then she turns back to her brother. "Leighton seems to be eating just fine!"

I take a sip of my soda and don't respond. The sandwich is really good.

"Leighton doesn't give a damn about anything!" Liam objects. "But even he would be disgusted if someone made out with his sister!"

"Alright, enough," Tanner's voice cuts down Tricia's unspoken answer that remained on her parted lips. "See you later?"

"I have practice today."

"Babe, why do you need practice?" Tanner laughs. "You're already the best."

Tricia eats up his every word with a smile.

"I'll text you," Tanner says, gently pushing Tricia off his lap. She plants a few more kisses on his lips, seemingly to annoy Liam further, before finally leaving.

The rest of the lunch passes relatively quietly. Liam is clearly fuming but keeps his mouth shut. I finish my meal and stand up to head to the next class.

"Meet me after the last period," Tanner says. "Don't bail on me this time. I mean it."

I simply nod at his serious expression and walk away.