7. HERO

It was Monday. As me and my friends entered the school we were met by cheers and congratulations. Ah. It felt nice to be on top.

Our first class today was PE and due to one teacher catching a severe case of 'i hate kids' we were joined by a class we usually had nothing to do with. It happened to be Timothy's class. I was glad to see him. Why was unknown to me.

His PE outfit consisted of black sweatpants, omnipresent All Stars and a thick black hoodie with the hood up. And once again there was no chance to see his eyes. Just a grim reaper with a little blonde sticking out of his cap.

We stood on the gleaming, ice cold field. It was a nice frosty morning and I was excited to watch dweebs slip and die.

"Alright, class. Welcome." Our PE coach started. "I'm happy to guide you all into the land of physical exertion."

Most people sighed and looked annoyed. I was alright with it. I had great endurance so this was usually a nice little break from football which was actually strenuous.

"We're joined by another class today. Make them feel welcome. Since we have such a nice variety of people here I think you should all pair up with someone from the other class."

The teacher proceeded to number us and those with the same number had to pair up.

I very discreetly switched with the nerd next to me and was suddenly in a team with emo boy.

"Looks like we're stuck with each other." I said as I approached him.

He said nothing. I smacked his shoulder. "Timothy."

"Huh?" He looked up at me. Wow,  his eyes looked even bluer outside. "Oh. Hey Josh."

He said my name so casually and still it gave me butterflies. I wanted to smack myself.

"We're in a team together." I repeated.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I suck at sports." He said while staring at the frosted grass.

Kinda figured as much. This was gonna be fun.

"Me too." I teased.

"Ha-ha." Timothy walked into the distance where all the other people were. We were supposed to throw the baseball and the other person was supposed to catch it in their mitt. Easy-peasy.

"Get your hands out of your pockets or I'll hit your face!" I yelled.

Timothy did as I said. Though I could barely see his face I knew he was wearing a grimace.

I decided not to go easy on him. Where's the fun in that?

I threw the ball fast and hard (just the way I liked it) and it flew right over Timothy's head.

He glared at me.

I laughed at him. He was pathetic.

"Do you want me to go easy on you, little girl?" I teased.

Timothy just shook his head to himself.

I threw the next ball much slower than before and right when it was in his hands, Timothy dropped it.

"What are you doing!" I started laughing.

"I'm sorry!"

"What, are you allergic to the ball?" I continued to laugh. "You know, that's really ironic. I thought you liked balls.."

Everyone there stared at him and Timothy's already pink skin become even more flushed. He pulled his hood further down.

The next exercise was to hit the ball using the bat. The other person had to catch.

Timothy was the first batter. I hoped his batting was better than his catching. I quickly learned not to hope for much when it came to Timothy and sports.

He threw the ball in the air swung the bat right under it or right above it every single time. He was horrible

"You suck!" I commented.

"I warned you!" Timothy said.

I made my way over to him as balls were flying all around me. "Yeah, well, I didn't think this bad could be possible. You haven't even hit it one time. This is just painful."

"Here," I grabbed the bat out of his hands. "Your swinging is terrible. You're supposed to swing from underneath, see?" I demonstrated my movement. "And you hold your hands close together like this. And when you've hit the ball, always point to it so you know where it's going, got it?"

I looked into Timothy's clueless eyes. "I can't do all that at once."

"I do it."

"Yeah, well you were made for this. I wasn't."

I took a step forward. "Are you saying what I think I you're saying?"

"Which is what..?" Timothy looked wary.

"You think I look sporty. You think I'm hot. You're flirting with me, aren't you?"

Timothy just stared at me, completely confused. "N-no, I just-"

I punched his arm. "I'm just messing with you."

"Oh." Timothy looked away.

"Get over here," I pulled Timothy in front of me and pushed the bat into his hands.

"Just pull it back like this," I put my hands over his. He was ice cold.

"And then swing from underneath." I demonstrated the movement, our hands clasped together.

"Great. Now we're gonna use your favorite object: the ball."

Timothy sighed. "You're not funny. Or original, by the way."

"So you say." I threw the ball in the air and swung the bat back. I hit with great force and it flew all the way across the yard.

"Jesus."

"No, that was all me." I smirked.

Timothy shook his head.

"Alright, you try."

I took a step back.

He sighed and swung the bat back, he did the whole curve from underneath thing and he hit..... nothing!

"Dude!"

"This isn't my thing, okay? And it's too early for this." Timothy handed me the bat.

"You really are a girl, aren't you?"

"Because girls aren't good at sports?"

Just as he said that Lizzy Tompson hit the ball further than mine went. I frowned.

Okay, so maybe they are-

"I'm gonna go take a seat. I don't feel so good.." Timothy mumbled.

"What's wrong?" He didn't look good at all. I took a step closer and cupped his cheeks in my hands.

"You're freezing cold..!"

"I'm always like this.. don't worry about it."

"It's because you don't eat, right?" I asked.

Timothy was silent. I noticed he was shaking and his teeth were clattering.

"Come on," I grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the coach.

"He's not okay. I'm taking him to the nurse."

"Yeah.. alright.." The coach agreed, looking concerned. The only thing he should be concerned about is his job. It was freezing outside, what did he think would happen?

"Can you walk?" I asked.

"Josh, I'm fine, I promise."

"That's what they all say. Come on." I dragged Timothy along to the nurse's office.

She gave him a blanket and heat pack. His dad was probably at work cause he didn't pick up his phone. I offered to drive Timothy home.

As I was driving to his house he was dead quiet and he was so pale.

I put my hand on his forehead. He was starting to feel like a human again.

I reached into the dashboard and grabbed a muesli bar.

"Eat this."

Timothy looked at it for a while. "I'm oka-"

"Timothy, I swear to God, if you don't eat this I'll shove it down your throat myself."

Timothy sighed and grabbed the bar.

"Since when do you care so much?" Timothy mumbled as he took the tiniest bite.

Good question.

"I was the last person with you before you got ill. They're gonna think I killed you." That was the lamest excuse ever. Still, it beat having to think about why the fuck I was actually doing all this.

Timothy gave me a look. I ignored him.

"Eat it." I demanded.

Timothy took another bite the size of a mouse.

I grabbed the bar and pushed it into his mouth. He spit it right back out.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm trying to get you to look alive again!"

"Don't bother! I can take care of myself!"

"Yeah, I can see that! You can't swing a baseball bat for shit, you freeze at the smallest gust of wind-"

Timothy opened the car door while I was driving. I came to a screeching halt.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"If you don't want to be near me, no one is forcing you!" Timothy got out of the car and began to walk towards his house. Wow. He was actually mad.

I sat there for a while deliberating what to do. I mean, I wasn't going to apologize, of course but I couldn't just let him walk home on his own. He'd probably freeze to death or get like kidnapped or something.

I drove the car at his speed. He just stared ahead.

"Get in the car, Timothy." I tried calmly.

Timothy only glanced at me but didn't say a thing.

As much as I wanted to scream or get out and throw him in the car... there were people around, so..

"I'll be nice." I promised.

"It's not about that." Timothy replied.

"What's it about, then?"

Timothy paused. I stopped the car.

He finally turned to me and rested his hand against the door.

"You don't have to take care of me."

His eyes were piercing as he looked at me. I felt like they were melting my heart. Dammit, what am I doing! I should turn around and leave! Run! Go plan that date with Jennifer, but all I want to do is make sure he got home okay.

"I want to." I said. It was the first honest thing I'd said to him.

Timothy's blue eyes widened in surprise. "Why?"

I could hear my heart banging against my chest. Jesus, what was going on?!

"Because.." His eyes never shifted. God, he could kill someone with those.

"Because your dad's a butcher. I figure if I play my cards right I'll get free meat." I smirked. Ah, I'm great at excuses.

"Ah," Timothy nodded. He looked a little disappointed.. but not surprised. He pulled away and continued walking. That little...

"Fine!" I jumped out of the car. "You wanna play hard ball?! I can play!" I lunged forward and scooped Timothy off the ground.

"Hey!" He protested. "Put me down!"

"Oh I will!" The car door was open so it was easy to stow him inside.

I got a bunch of weird looks from people on the sidewalk.

I gave them a sheepish smile. "He's my little brother. You know how it is.." I laughed.

"I sure do." Some old man shook his head. "A true pain in the neck, those little ones."

"You know it." I chuckled.

I ran inside and locked the doors.

"If you touch that door handle again I'll chop your arm off." I warned as I sped to Timothy's house.

Timothy crossed his arms and leaned against the car seat. I admired the shape of his button nose. He bit his bottom lip and when he let go it was bright red and wet..

Then he looked at me. His eyes were lined as usual and super distracting... as usual..

"Josh? The road?" He said ever so calmly as if he didn't care if we got in a car crash.

"Shut up, nerd." I ripped my eyes away and looked back at the road.

"I thought you were going to be nice-"

"That was before you pissed me off."

We drove into the parking spot in front of Timothy's house.

I opened the doors and we got out. Timothy fished a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

"Alright, you can go now."

"Nope," I forced myself inside. "Mr. Nightingale? Mr. Night-"

"Josh!" I heard that familiar pirate's voice. "It's good to see you!" Joe slapped my arm playfully. "What brings you here?"

"Timothy got sick at school-"

"I'm fine." Timothy mumbled, leaning against the door frame.

I shot him a glare.

"I brought him home." I smirked.

"Thank you, Josh. That's really nice of you." Joe went over to his son. "I only saw your calls now. Are you okay?"

Timothy already attempted to sneak away. Joe took a hold of him anyway.

"I'm fine, dad."

Joe placed his hand on Timothy's forehead.

"What happened?" Joe asked, looking at me again.

"Timothy almost fainted in PE today. We were playing baseball outside and he was basically hypothermic."

"I was not! Dad, he's overreacting."

"Go lie in bed. I'll bring you some soup."

Timothy sighed. "Fine." He disappeared into the hallway.

"Hey, I really appreciate you dropping him off. He can be stubborn."

"Yeah, I've noticed. What a pain in the ass. All I'm trying to do is help!"

"Yeah, that's Timothy." Joe's eyes darkened for a moment. "He never wants to take help from others."

Joe went into the gothic looking kitchen I followed. He grabbed a big pot from the fridge and turned on the stove.

"Hey, why don't you stay for dinner? I can cook us up a real meat feast."

That sounded like music to my ears. I grinned. "Yeah. Gladly."

Joe seemed relieved. It must be hard living alone with a guy that didn't eat meat and constantly wore eyeliner.

I sat down at the black kitchen island and rested my hands on the white shiny top.

"Hey.. Joe?"

"Hmm?" He stirred the pot of soup.

"What's wrong with Timothy?"

Joe looked up.

"I mean.. he doesn't eat much, and then today he almost fainted and you... you talk about him like he's ill, I mean.. I don't wanna intrude or whatever but-"

"Oh, it's that obvious, huh?" Joe smiled sadly and turned back to the food.

He stirred the pot once more and put the lid on top.

"It's a long story."

"I have time." I shrugged.

"Shouldn't you get back to school?"

"Nah.. I'm still sore from Saturday. I could use a sick day." I smirked.

"I don't know if I should be enabling this kind of behavior. School's important."

"You can't distract me, Joe. My dad's fine with it. Now tell me."

Joe stared at the tiles in front of him. It seemed he was thinking of how to say something.

"Timothy..." He began.