The secretary in the main office was staring at a computer screen with a pair of reading glasses on. She must've noticed that I walked in since it was silent, but she didn't look at me. After waiting a minute, I rolled my eyes and debated going to my next class.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, still looking at her computer monitor.

"Yeah, I was wondering if I could talk with the school nurse?" I asked.

"Sorry, but she's out at lunch right now. Do you want to wait here?"

That meant I wouldn't have to go to my next class, and then there was only one last class of the day. It sounded like a good deal to me. I couldn't stand Chemistry class with Mr. Bryant.

"Yeah, I can wait."

I gave her my name, sat on one of the chairs, and looked at my phone, but I didn't have any notifications. Pulling out my math textbook, I tried reading it from the beginning.

Maybe if I started off with the more accessible material and gave it an earnest effort, I might be able to pick it up better.

But I struggled. I was rereading the first page over and over and over again without comprehending any of the words. My mind kept trailing off, thinking about being on the football field and throwing lasers at receivers. Then I'd spot an opening in the defense and take it upon myself to run to get the first down.

"Rollie, the nurse can see you now," the secretary said.

I followed the secretary behind the desk into the hallway where the principals' offices were. We arrived at a place that reminded me of a doctor's patient room. A seafoam green bed with a sheet of paper and a bunch of closed cabinets.

The nurse was putting a piece of paper on her pink clipboard.

"Hey, Rollie, I'm nurse Jill. Got into a scuffle today?" She said, squinting at my black eye.

"Uh, no, I actually had this from a couple of days ago. What happened today was just my anger acting up, I guess. Like, I feel fine, but I had a moment earlier where I got upset, and something strange happened. Uh...”

Nurse Jill nodded, but I paused. “Go on,” she said.

“So, uh, my hand, I guess, caught on fire. But it doesn't look like it because I put it out quickly, but it's freaky. I know it sounds like I'm making this up, and it sounds like a joke, but this happened the other day too."

"Your hand caught on fire? Were you holding on to any flammables, or did you put on some chemical or emulsion on your hand?"

"No, nothing like that. It was so strange––“ I sighed. "Look, I got into a fight on Saturday, but my parents don't know anything about it. No one does. It sucks because I get angry easily, leading to me swinging punches. I don't like doing that, but sometimes I just do it. It feels like the only solution. I probably sound like a complete idiot, but I'm trying to improve. The last time I had an urge to fight was this morning after class. I thought about knocking these kids out who were laughing at me in class, but I stopped when I noticed that my hand was on fire. I searched online for stuff about it but didn't find anything."

Nurse Jill debated writing something on her clipboard, but didn’t. ”So you get upset, and your hand bursts into flames?"

"I know it sounds bizarre, but it's true. At least that's what happened the last two times."

"I think someone has been reading too many comic books if you ask me." Nurse Jill shook her head. She said that so callously that I clenched my fist.

"I'm being serious!" I snapped.

"Thank you for wasting my afternoon. And you should really mind your manners and not talk to adults like that. I could tell you were a disrespectful brat when I saw you."

I was fuming. "What's your problem, lady!"

"I think the real question is, what's your problem?" She yelled, pointing her finger in my face. "You obviously don't have any respect for anyone's time! And anyone with a brain can clearly see that you're trying to skip class by making up some wild example to go down to the nurse's office! What I don't get is why you didn't feign a stomach ache or headache? That's way more plausible!"

"I'm telling you, this is what really happened!" I couldn't stand her shouting, the rage stirred within my chest, and I was ready to sprint out of there. Another word of her verbal attack and I was gone.

Nurse Jill stiffened and dropped her jaw. Her eyes opened so wide they were about to pop out of her skull. She gazed at my palm. I looked down and saw that my hand was on fire again.

But again, there was no pain.

"You see! I wasn't lying about this!"

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.

"Where'd it go?" She asked, reaching into her pocket. "I-I-I was going to take a picture!"

The fire disappeared. "I have no idea."

"Rollie, I'm sorry I hollered at you. But, you said that anger had triggered the flame each time, and I wanted to recreate that."

"I guess it worked. But I don't know why it went away so quickly." I stared at her, desperate for answers. "Any ideas why that's happening?"

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Nurse Jill frowned. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss of words. After all my years of studying anatomy and the health sciences, I can safely say I've never seen anything like that before."

"So what, do you think I can't get angry now? If I do, my hand will just catch fire?"

"I don't know, I wish I had a better answer for you, but I don't. Maybe you should go to a hospital or a laboratory where they can study you. But first, maybe you should go home and tell your parents."

While that sounded like a fantastic idea, I couldn't miss the rest of the school day. "No, I can't. I must finish out today, so I can go to football practice."

"Rollie, I don't think that's such a good idea. What if this happens again as you're in the middle of practice? You could hurt someone, and I'm not willing to take that risk."

"Please, Nurse Jill, I took a risk coming in here today and telling you about this. I knew you wouldn't believe me unless I could show you. Look, we know that it only happens when I get upset. I don't really get upset when I go to football practice. I'll be okay, I promise."

"You realize how much of a medical anomaly this is, right? I feel like I'll have to contact someone else ASAP."

"No, please, don't do anything like that. I don't want my business being out there, and then I'll have to be interviewed a bunch, and I'm just worried about missing out on the football season."

Nurse Jill frowned. "Rollie, I have to contact someone. I've never heard of this, and if we reach out to the medical community, maybe someone has heard of this before. And maybe there's help for you."

I shrugged. "Okay, so maybe it's a good idea to contact someone, but please keep my name out of it. I don't know if you were at the game on Friday night, but I'm now the team's starting quarterback, and I think I might be able to do good this season."

Nurse Jill sighed. "Well, don't draw attention to yourself by letting the fire start again. If you feel upset or angry on the football field, walk away from it. For now, this will be kept a secret between you and me, and I will try and contact some other doctors who might be more familiar with a case like this."

"Okay, thank you so much, Nurse Jill. Do I have to go to my next class? Or are you able to write me a pass?"

Nurse Jill stared at me unamused. "You definitely have to go to your next class. It's the last one of the day. Besides, you'll be arriving about 10 minutes late."

"That works. At least I missed Chemistry." I chuckled.

Nurse Jill wasn’t amused. "If you want to stay on the football team, you must attend your classes at the very least. I know Coach Carlson really cares about his kids passing classes."

"I'll be fine; I'm not worried about it. Thank you, though." I waved my hand.

"Let me just write you a pass, and you can be on your way."

My last class of the day was an elective for environmental studies. I sat at the table with Celia. I thought about asking her what it was like working at Bobby's Drive-in, but I couldn't find the courage to say anything. The class dragged on, and I was utterly silent for the entire hour. It was a welcome change of pace from my other courses. No one laughed at me, and I didn't mess with anyone. I sat there twiddling my thumbs, waiting for football practice.

The final bell rang, and all the students dashed out of the room. I joined in the rush and made my way to football practice. I had plenty of time to talk to Coach Carlson about seeing a tutor before we broke out the pads and started drills.

Although when I went down to Coach Carlson's office, my chemistry teacher, Mr. Bryant, was already in there.

"Care to talk about why you skipped class today, Mr. Magpie?" Mr. Bryant said.

"I didn't skip. I had to go to the nurse's room, and we forgot to get it excused. Chill out," I said.

"Don't you tell me to chill out!" Mr. Bryant yelled and pointed at me.

Coach Carlson sat at his desk and took a deep breath. "Rollie, while I agree with Mr. Bryant that you shouldn't talk to him like that, I don't necessarily agree with his tone. At the same time, I can't have you skipping class."

"I'm telling you, I was at the nurse's office.” I put my hand over my heart.

"Likely excuse. Not to mention, you sound rehearsed. You want to know something, Rollie?" Mr. Bryant said, glaring at me. "I've heard about you from the middle school teachers. They all told me to watch out for you. You have quite the reputation as a troublemaker and difficult student."

"Difficult, how? Just because I struggle with my classes? Hey man, I worked on my attitude this year with making varsity," I said.

"And yet you're arguing with a teacher right now!" Mr. Bryant said.

"That's because I came in here and started getting yelled at out of nowhere!"

"Mr. Bryant, I can take it from here, thank you," Coach Carlson said.

"Let me know what disciplinary measures you take with Rollie. I'll happily collaborate on anything that might guarantee his presence in class." Mr. Bryant headed out.

But before he left, I said, "I was in the nurse's office. We can talk to her right now if she's still here. She'll even vouch for me tomorrow too."

Mr. Bryant huffed, puffed, and approached me inches away from my face. "You don't look very sick to me."

"I was earlier. I'm better now. It's none of your business anyways." I rolled my eyes.

"This is going to be a fun year. I won't be surprised if you spend most of it in detention." Mr. Bryant laughed to himself and finally walked out of the office.

"Rollie, I can't have you skipping class. I don't care what you were doing, nor do I want to know, but if you want to continue being starting quarterback on this team, you have to go to class."

"Seriously, I would have gone to class if I didn't have to go to the nurse's office. I guess we just forgot to excuse the absence. We can talk to her tomorrow to get it all figured out. Please, you gotta believe me," I said.

"I do believe you. But Mr. Bryant is right. You have a bit of a reputation, whether you're aware of it or not."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I made some mistakes."

"Okay, I'll talk to the nurse tomorrow about what happened. That black eye." Coach Carlson studied my face. "That wasn’t there on Friday. Everything else going all right?"

"Yeah. I got punched in the mosh pit at a concert."

Coach Carlson laughed, but it was more from surprise than actually finding it funny. "I've been to plenty of concerts in my lifetime. Never have I been punched. Do what you can to take care of yourself a little better. Playing on the football field is enough of a risk."

"You bet, Coach Carlson. Sorry about that."

Coach Carlson gave a half-smile. “No need to apologize, Rollie. I just don't want to worry about you during the season." Coach Carlson checked his watch and tapped on the desk. "I'm sorry, but was there something you wanted to talk to me about? You came in here and immediately got yelled at by Mr. Bryant. But I figure you must've had something to tell me?"

I rubbed the back of my head. “Uh, yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you about my algebra class. I'm not doing so hot in there, and apparently, Ms. Moore thinks I need a tutor, but the after-school tutoring sessions happen during football practice."

Coach Carlson smiled. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that you're struggling with math, but the good news is, we've had plenty of football players on our roster in the past that have needed tutors. We will absolutely make something work. I'm confident in that. Perhaps after practice, we can get someone from the National Honor Society to get some volunteer hours by helping you out. They can meet at your house a few times a week, or however much you need. Does that sound good?"

"Uh, yeah, but also, I feel like those brainiac kids, and I usually don't get along too well. I just feel like many of them think they're so much better than everyone else."

Coach Carlson shook his head. "You'll be fine. I'll make sure it's a good kid who gets along with everyone. You have nothing to worry about. Now, are you ready for practice today?" He smiled.

"Always," I said.