VICTOR

Victor's eyes slowly opened when his loud alarm went off. It was Thursday, and his mom was making him go to school today. Victor didn't want to go back to school today, in fact, he never wanted to go again. He wasn't worried about the work, he was worried about what people would say. He was worried about hearing the two words, I'm sorry, from everyone passing. Everyone knew they were good friends, well after it all happened. Victor finally grabbed his ringing phone and swiped the alarm off. He got up, pulling the blankets off him, then walked over to his dresser. He opened the drawer third from the top, which held all of his shirts, and picked out a shirt that said, 'Don't Talk To Me, I Won't Reply.'

"Perfect." Victor whispered to himself.

He threw off his shirt he went to bed in, exposing his bare chest, then quickly, put his fresh, clean shirt on. He opened the drawer directly below the shirt drawer and thrust his hand in and grabbed a random pair of jeans. The jeans had two big holes where his knees would be, and was loose where it would fit around his ankles. Victor slipped off his dirty pants and pulled his new ones on, then opened his door into the hall, heading for the uninhabited bathroom. As he walked down the hall, he touched the railing that spread across the right side of the hall, overlooking the living room and the front door. Then, he walked into the unattended washroom and closed the door. As he passed the mirror on his way to the shelving to retrieve his brush and toothbrush, he looked at himself, his shaggy hair was a mess, and acne had shown up on his skin. What these last few days had been doing to him... He finally tore his eyes away from his mimicked self and walked to the shelves. He looked around the shelf where his stuff like; hair gel, deodorant, brush, toothbrush, lofa, and shampoo and conditioner were and couldn't find his brush but found his toothbrush. Victor searched all the shelves for his brush but still couldn't find it. Finally, he gave up on trying to find it and brushed his teeth at the sink.

Suddenly, Vic heard a soft knock on the bathroom door.

"Yes?" Victor asked.

"Hurry up, dear. You need to be ready in 5." His mother told her son.

"I will." Victor sighed.

Victor heard his mother leave the door and walk down the staircase. Victor ran his fingers through his hair then left the bathroom. His mom was waiting on the couch downstairs with her small purse, wearing black yoga pants and a light blue top with a dark blue flower on it. Victor slipped on some sneakers and grabbed his backpack from the coat hook.

"Why's my backpack here? I thought it was in my room." Victor pointed out.

"Oh, I grabbed it from your room for you." She answered getting up from their white sofa. "Let's go."

The two left the house and crowded into their vehicle. As the car engine hummed Victor stared out the window.

"Don't listen to the other kids, Victor." Mrs. Angelose said, looking at him from the corner of her eyes.

"Ya, I know." Victor replied.

"I'm serious, Victor." She said firmly.

"I know, Mom." Victor repeated.

"Okay. Now, listen to me. You have missed a lot of school, so, get your work done." She demanded.

"Only two days." Victor saw his mother's face then agreed, "Yes, ma'am."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded, then drove out of the driveway. Victor looked out the window and sighed. Next thing he knew they were pulling up to the side of the two-story building the public called a school. Victor grabbed his stuff and opened the car door. He stepped out and inhaled the familiar smell of pine trees and fresh-cut grass. He waved at his mom and shut the car door, then started towards the large school. Victor felt like people were staring at him, but when he looked around all he saw was kids riding their bike and stepping out of their vehicles. No one was watching him, he knew that, yet it just felt like they were. He stomped up the stairs, looking at his worn out sneakers, he only looked up to open the school's front doors. When he entered the school's hallways he looked around at everyone talking to their friends. Then, he looked at the students playing on their computers in front of the doors of the auditorium. Then, he walked to his locker on the boys side of the 6th grade hall. He knelt in front of his orange locker and put in his combination. The first time he did it didn't open, but he tried again and it opened. He had almost missed his locker, the pictures of him and his mom in front of the Eiffel Tower, and one with him and his father when Victor was four years old, standing in their old backyard, playing a popular French game called Pétanque. Victor took his backpack off his left shoulder and took out everything in it, then he shoved his backpack on top of his locker shelf. Victor felt a finger poke his shoulder, so he turned around to find Marick standing behind him.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" Marick asked as Victor gathered his stuff and got up from the floor.

"Hey." Victor greeted him.

Victor smiled. Then walked to his computers class, which was in the same room as his math class. Marick followed him with his stuff in his folded arms, like a dog following his owner. When the two passed the girls lockers Victor looked at one that stood out. It had a bunch of pictures of Angelina and get well cards taped onto it. The locker was most likely Angie's locker, no doubt about it. Victor tore his eyes away from the locker and continued down the hall into his class, sadness flooding over him. He entered the room and immediately sat in the chair he always had sat in since the first day he got here. Victor sighed as he shoved his stuff under the desk. Marick did the same, but gentler, then turned towards Victor.

"Did you do the science worksheet, the one that was assigned the day before you stopped going to school?" Marick asked, avoiding what happened that day.

"Ya, it's in my locker. I bet I'm really behind on all of the school work." Victor replied, rolling his eyes.

"That's good." Marick said. "We have had a few assignments in social studies on Europe, and we have started to learn about physical reactions in science. Then, in math we are learning about absolute value."

"I've already been taught about absolute value, when I lived in Paris, of course. Then, did you forget I lived in Europe? Plus, physical reactions aren't hard to learn about." Victor stated.

"Oh yeah," Marick replied, rubbing his neck embarrassingly.

Victor laughed. Then, the bell music started playing. More kids piled into the room, all of them talking about what they're doing over the weekend. Victor rolled his eyes then slumped down into his chair. The bell rang and the teacher walked into the room. She then called roll call.

"Victor?" She called.

"Here."

"Good to see you again." She said, then continued the roll call.

After she finished roll call she got up and sat at the table with the projector. She tapped the desk a few times with her long, sharp fake nails. Kids stared nervously at the woman, wondering what she'd say. Finally, she cleared her throat loudly.

"Today is Thursday, as you all know. Today, I will be giving you guys a 5 paragraph essay on what we learned yesterday."

Victor raised his hand hesitantly, "I wasn't here yesterday. "

The teacher rolled her eyes, "Of course you weren't." She sighed. "Just write one about what we learned on Tuesday. "

"I wasn't here on Tuesday either, Mrs. Kendall."

Mrs. Kendall moaned, "Just read an article that I'll email to you. Or is that too much work?"

The class giggled. The teacher quickly glared at the kids, making them fall quiet. Victor sank even farther into his chair.

"Was anyone else gone?" Mrs. Kendall asked, clearly annoyed.

When no one raised their hand she sighed, "Good. Now that we got that done with, let's actually learn."

Victor quickly zoned out of the lesson and just doodled on a piece of paper with a pen. He was quite surprised the teacher never got after him, or saw him.

When Victor was drawing the sad eyes on the small figure he was drawing, someone kicked him lightly on his ankle. Victor was surprised to see Sabastian looking at him. Victor glared at him. Sabastian passed Victor a note with Sabastian's messy writing on it. Victor didn't want to open it, because the last note Sabastian gave Angelina was about Sabastian supposedly knowing Angie's and Victor's big secret.

Victor slowly looked at the writing which was written on it. It took Victor a minute to figure out what it said, but when he did, he looked up with wide eyes of fear. He knew he shouldn't have read Sabastian's note. The small piece of paper read:

'Wasn't the palace just the coolest thing ever?'

Sabastian was the weirdest dude he had ever met in his whole life.

"What are you talking about?" Victor whispered to Sabastian.

"You know what I'm talking about," Sabastian answered, turning towards the front of the room.

* * * * *

"How has your morning been, Vic," Marick asked as they sat on the grass at lunch.

"It's been... interesting. How 'bout you?"

"Oh, you know. I have to say though, the math test was hard. You have math in two periods, right?"

"Wait, math test?" Victor cried.

"You didn't know? It's on what we have been learning."

"Have you forgotten I've been gone for three days? I'm totally going to fail!" Victor cried.

"Yep, you're going to fail."

"Marick! You are supposed to be helping me!"

"Sorry, just looking at reality." Marick apologized.

"You're not helping," Victor said, getting off the ground, and then started walking away.

As Victor walked he kept his head down and his dry hands buried in his pockets. He thought he felt people staring but he knew no one was. Because no one really knew that Angie and Victor were good friends. But, everyone knew something was up with Victor. They knew his ex-best friends are the ones that put Angelina into a coma. Most of them think Victor had a part in it, they believe Victor was just like Zeke and his 'crew.'

"You should've gotten expelled, Victor Angelose." Someone growled into his ear.

Victor spun around and glared at the 8th grader. His name was Damien Carter. Damien was popular, charming, and was considered a 'bad' boy.

"I didn't do it!" Victor growled back.

"Sure you didn't. We both know you did. Admit it, Victor." Damien demanded.

A small crowd developed around Damien and Victor. A few girls and mostly boys, mainly Damien's friends. They stood there, the boys faces thirsty for a fight, the girl's scared.

"I swear on my life, Damien Carter."

"Ooo he swears on his life. I'm so convinced." Damien laughed.

"Stop it, Damien. You don't know a thing, you just listen to the false rumors." Victor growled.

"Do you mean the true rumors?" Damien scolded.

"I mean the false rumors. Just cut it out, Damien, pick a fight with someone your own size."

"Ooo 'pick a fight with someone your own size,' I'm so scared. You wanna hear something, Victor, I am your size, quite literally. " Damien laughed.

"Shut up," Victor demanded.

Damien looked at Victor with an angry look then shoved him to the ground, "Do not tell me to shut up, Victor Angelose. Take that as a warning."

Victor's wrist throbbed with pain. Damien walked away, then the crowd lessened. Victor rubbed his wrist with his other hand, still lying on the ground.

"Here, take my hand." A girl told Victor, standing over him, her hand outstretched for Victor.

Victor sat up onto his rear and grabbed her hand, then, she pulled him up onto his feet.

"Thanks," Victor told her.

"Anytime." She answered.

"I'm Victor," Victor said.

"I know. My name is Charity. Nice to meet you."

Charity had long, brown hair all the way to the middle of her chest. She also had black, bifocal glasses that set perfectly on her small nose. Her green eyes had a light sparkle whenever she talked.

"Nice to meet you too, Charity." Victor said, brushing his light brown hair behind his ear.

"Yeah. I better get going. Try to stay out of fights, okay?" She laughed, walking away.

Victor laughed then put his hands back into his pockets. He then felt a hand land on his shoulder. Victor turned around and saw Marick standing there with a frightened look.

"What were you thinking, fighting with Damien?"

"He accused me of helping put Angie into a coma, what else could I have done, just brush that statement off and walk away, um, no way!" Victor cried.

"Yes, yes you were, Victor," Marick answered.

"I couldn't just let him say those awful things to me," Victor whispered with an ashamed voice.

"I know, Victor. Just be careful." Marick replied. "I got to go, bye."

"Ya, whatever" Victor sighed.

Ringgggg.

All of the teenagers pushed their way through the huge crowd to the doors that were now wide open. Victor let the rest of the crowd go in, making him the last, he didn't feel like being pushed down the basement stairs that were right by the door. He knew just as well as everyone that the eighth graders would. Victor honesty didn't understand why everyone was making such a big deal over Angelina, most of the school didn't even know her. They just believed what the rumors said, and didn't even think to ask if they were true. Typical teenagers. After just about everyone went in, Victor finally walked in. He went over to his locker and grabbed his things for his next class, language arts.

When he entered the room, he grabbed his binder, and sat in his assigned seat. He immediately opened his book and read until the bell rang for class to start. Mrs. Dorten walked to her podium in front of the classroom, then looked at the children sitting patiently in their seats.

"Victor?" She called from her list of students, obviously getting used to the fact he probably wasn't there.

"Here." He called.

"Nice to see you back." She said surprised, then continued on.

"Like, every teacher has said that to you today," Marick whispered to him.

"I know, right," Victor whispered back.

"Okay everyone, today we are starting a novel. It's called The Peasant and The Prince. Has anyone read it? Or is reading it?" The teacher asked.

Victor was the only one to raise his hand.

"Hmph, only Victor? Ok, well that means this will be new ground for the rest of you."

One of the kids in the class, Andrew raised his hand.

"Yes, Andrew?" Mrs. Dorten sighed.

"What kind of book is it? Comedy? Non-fiction?" He asked.

"Neither, it is a romantic." Mrs. Dorten answered, making the class moan.

"Ew! And you like this book, Victor?" Andrew laughed, making the rest of the class erupt in laughter.

"Enough! All of you will read this book, am I clear?" Mrs. Dorten growled.

"Yes, ma'am." The class agreed.

"That's what I thought. Everyone in the back of your row, grab a book for everyone in your row please."

All of the kids in the back of the rows got up and went to the window and grabbed books for everyone in their row.

Andrew dropped one of the books right on Victor's arm, which was rested on his desk. Andrew gave him a smug look then walked back to his seat. Victor shook the book off his arm and then looked back at Andrew laughing with all of his friends. They kept glancing at Victor, then kept snickering. Horror spread over him. Something his mother had said to him crossed his mind. He took a deep breath, counted to ten then directed his eyes to the front of the room.

"Okay, we will read the first chapter together. Victor read the prologue please."

"Um, okay. '' Victor replied. "I, Amberlee Lynch Carsonlona, live in a small medieval village in a shack. This shack of mine is a large help, although its roof leaks and it is quite small. I am 20 years old and have no work. I search the streets for food, money, and needed supplies. Life is hard, but all you need to get through each day is a positive attitude. That really is all you need, that and a kind heart. They're something the rich don't have. Well, that's what I thought until I met him."

"Very good, thank you, Victor. Now may I ask all of you what those sentences show? Anyone?" Mrs. Dorten asked.

Victor raised his hand, hesitating slightly, his eyes droopy, "It shows you how the poor people live, in a shack with leaks, depending on the streets to supply them with food, money, fabric for making clothes, and logs for the fire. Amberlee is right about something the poor have the rich don't, a heart, well at least most rich."

"Bravo, Victor, you're completely right. I hope all of you were listening to Victor." Mrs. Dorten said.

Victor's face heated up with embarrassment. Then, Mrs. Dorten called on someone else to read. Before Victor knew it, it was time for his next class, math.

Victor walked the halls to his orange locker, opened it, then grabbed his math notebook and textbook. Every time he passed the girls' side of the hall, he tried not to look at Angelina's locker. Sometimes he fails, sometimes he was pretty good at keeping his eyes set on his feet. This time he failed, once again. He looked at it, and immediately his eyes began to tear up. He would be glad to go back to Angie in Elysia.

Suddenly every single whisper and word became so clear to him. So clear he could hear everything. His head began to spin, throbbing with large amounts of pain, making him extremely dizzy. He dropped his books and threw his hands to his head, crying out in pain. Everyone in the hall stood there and mocked him, erupting in laughter. He began to sway, his eyesight restricting him to see. He hit the ground with a thud and passed out.