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Cracked

Known Problems

Again, we're crowded around the blue training mat, in a cold, dark empty room.
"I'll have you go first, Jeremy," The instructor is unusually hostile with me today. Even the teachers have found out of my 'accidental' punching Louis, and I guess he's the instructor's favorite student. Well, boo-frickedy-hoo.
He demonstrates the entire combo of the fighting technique, explaining all the steps while trying them out. I pay careful attention, as I have in all the classes. There are more than just this certain one, there's a weapon class and much more combat than weapons. ABB prefers body over machine. That's one of their quotes.
I pay as much attention as I can, but it never helps. Every single time, I either don't do it good enough or do it half-good-enough but still I get scolded.
Life isn't fair.

I pay attention, but then I catch Louis's gaze planted straight on me. With a knowing smirk plastered on his face but still a sort-of dreamy expression. When I turn my head to meet his eyes, he turns his head back and glares at the instructor, cheeks turning red. His smirk disappears but there's a slight trace of it on his lips.
How cute. I wish I had a camera - I could blackmail him so easily.

I finally get the time to try out the fight. I jump and kick and punch, but all I get is a curt, approving nod from the instructor. No "good job," no "bravo." Nothing like that. not even a 'nice try.' I should be used to being ignored by the teachers, but I can't help but want to kick him to try out the new technique on a person.
My mental comment startles even me. I guess ABB made me crave blood, to see people crumple to the floor.

Not really, but about 1/5 of my personality is now my "Fight Side."
Once we finish in this lesson, everyone rushes to the lunch room. I walk quickly next to Jessa and make sure we're not near Louis, meeting my gaze to that person's and they nod at me.
"Er.. hi.'

"Don't talk to me." It's a guy now, I can see, wearing the standard training uniform but his hair is long.
Jessa slumps her arm over my shoulder. "You're so grumpy," She makes a ridiculous grumpy face, seemingly copying my expression.
Why is it when you make a neutral face, everyone thinks you're sad and they ask "if you're okay?"
"It's my face, isn't it?" I motion with my hand over my face.

"Aw, c'mon. We're gonna see who we fight with. I bet they paired you up with one of the weakest kids. You'll do great!" She smiles brightly at me.
"Not," I add on to her optimistic sentence. I look at her. "I am the weakest kid," I reply miserably.

"No you're not." Jessa assures me as she flips a lock of her black hair with purple streaks to the side. "And besides, you never know. Let's go see."
She pulls me towards the 2nd training room, where the bulletin board in front says the names who we'll be paired with. I'm tall enough to see but some people crowd around it, so I have to wait. I almost get my jaw broken in the process. Well, that's exaggerating, but I do that.
When the crowd starts to get smaller, some people stare at me as they walk past. My stomach twists in a knot. When some of them click their tongues and shake their heads or whisper "You're dead," to me, I feel like I really am. I know, I knew it, I knew that from his smirk he knew something I didn't want to know.

"I'm with Jaylene. Typical," She says sourly. I shake my head furiously. "Look who's talking!? Look at my name!"

Kalle Jeremy VS. Louis Tomlinson

"No, no, no!" I squeal as I fling away the board, only tilting it forward. I bury my face in my hands.
"Crap!"

"Hey, it's not all that bad," Jessa tries to assure me uncertainly, but I only continue whining, but I don't cry. I need to and I would have cried in a moment like this.. but I don't.
"It's not all that bad for me. Because we all know who's going to win," Louis smirks behind me.

"Fuck!"
I drop my head and mouth "Prick," just so I can get it out of my system, but I feel his cold fingers lift my chin up, so my light, soft eyes meet his dark, cold, michevous green-blue ones.
"What did you call me?"

I feel a stinging sensation in my cheek as I stumble back. He slapped me. I knew it was too good to be true, for him not to hurt me - but it's strange. I know he could have hit me harder.
He pulls down the sleeve of his uniform over his arm. Weird, again. Whenever he hits he never pulls up his sleeves.
"See you next week, where I'm allowed to beat you to a pulp," He smirks.

I fucking knew this would happen.