Victor snuck a look at Connor. The light from the PowerPoint presentation revealed his friend's blank face staring at the screen. He tried to focus, but the laws of sines and cosines were not holding his interest.

Since gym class, Connor and Summer had been acting strangely toward him. Summer couldn't stop smiling in his presence. It brought him some discomfort, but ultimately, it was harmless. Connor, on the other hand, had an entire change of demeanor. His sarcastic and playful personality seemed to have completely disappeared. When Victor tried to start a conversation, he got short and frank answers. The test results still weighed heavily on his mind, and even though his pride wouldn't allow him to admit it, he was in desperate need of his old friend.

The last bell of the day rang, and the school came to life as students flooded the hallways.

"See you guys tomorrow!" Summer exclaimed as she got into her grandmother's pickup truck. Her permanent smile somehow gleamed behind the tinted passenger side window.

Victor and Connor walked along the concrete path that wrapped around the school. Connor was still refusing to speak, and his gaze was glued to the ground. "I think I'm gonna walk home today," Victor blurted, ending the unbearable silence. Connor's eyes widened as he looked in Victor's direction for what felt like the first time since that morning.

"Why?"

"I have a lot of energy today for some reason. I just need to walk some of it off before I get home." Victor was staring at the row of buses to the right of them, wrapping around the corner like a yellow snake.

"Lemme walk with you then."

For what? So we can stare at the ground together? Connor had been ignoring him all day, and Victor hadn't felt an ounce of comfort in his presence. "Nah, I'll meet up with you later. Go ahead and take the bus home."

Connor squinted. "Ok bro, I'll see you later." He spun around and walked toward a bus parked on the opposite side of the street.

***

Connor jogged up the bus' steps, choosing a seat with a clear view of the sidewalk. He anxiously pulled out his phone and feigned interest in his unlocked screen, periodically raising his head to peek at his friend still walking away from the line of buses.

Victor peered in his direction.

Connor turned back to his phone and repeatedly tapped on its black screen. After a few seconds, he raised his head, using his eyes to follow Victor until he was almost out of his field of view. With the coast clear, he frantically picked up his backpack and ran to the front of the bus. "I forgot I have something to do after school today!" he yelled while hurrying down the steps. The bus driver glanced in his general direction and sounded a grunt of affirmation before returning to the game on her phone.

***

About a mile from the school, there was a steep grassy decline attached to a main road. Victor ran down the decline and entered a narrow path, leading to a large clearing surrounded by trees of various shapes and sizes.

Victor scanned the area, his gaze focusing on the base of each tree. Eventually, he saw a large gray rock leaning against a tree that was a few shades lighter than the others. Puke-green moss coated the bark, and its trunk had a slight bend. Water from the nearby creek rustled as he loped toward The Slouching Giant—brilliantly named by Victor.

He lifted the rock to reveal a small bottle of clear liquid. His shoulders loosened. The bottle was hot to the touch and the label read: Rocky Hill Quality House 100 proof vodka. It shocked Victor to see that the bottle was still there. His liquor always eventually came up missing, no matter how clever the hiding spot.

Victor took a swig of the warm spirit. He held back a cough and swallowed. His eyes watered and his chest felt like he was lying on a bed of burning coals. With his hand balled into a fist, he repeatedly punched his chest while releasing a flurry of coughs. The thought of running over to the creek and using the murky water as a chaser crossed his mind, but the raging fire within eventually subsided, leaving behind a feeling of complete bliss.

He heard footsteps heading in his direction. Victor froze and turned to the partially shaded figure standing near the entrance of the clearing. He dropped the bottle in a panic and sprang up, trying to hide it with his body.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Sharing is caring," the figure said. It was the voice of a man. The prominent lisp he spoke with betrayed his otherwise menacing presence. He stepped into the sunlight, revealing his light-blue collared shirt with Carlisle High School etched onto the breast pocket, his face still partially hidden.

He lifted his head and reached toward his eyes, removing his contact lenses. Victor was reminded of the month Connor gave contacts a try, but the act of removing them never went this smoothly. The stranger reached into his wrinkled khaki pants and presented a pack of cigarettes. He meticulously took one out of the packaging and cradled it between his lips.

Victor leaned forward, desperately trying to get a better look. The man pulled out a lighter and with a flick, illuminated part of his face, bringing attention to his striking blood-red eyes.

Victor tensed up, recognizing him as the strange janitor he locked eyes with during gym class. Why was he following me?

"When you look at me, what do you see?" the janitor asked before taking a long drag on his cigarette. Victor furrowed his brow and looked him up and down. "I asked you a question," he added.

The combination of fear and confusion left him mute. He stared into the sea of red in the janitor's eyes. Victor tilted his head upward to signal that he was not afraid, but his vocal chords refused to work. His hands turned into fists as his heart violently pounded in his chest.

"Hey, lush, I'm not going to fucking repe—"

"V! Run!" exclaimed a familiar voice from the clearing's entrance. Connor appeared from the pathway with his shoes caked in dirt. "V, get out of—ahhh!" Connor collapsed and began writhing in pain. Wisps of smoke rose from the crushed cigarette that the janitor had pressed against his forearm. The red-eyed man's quick and jerky movements left Victor dumbstruck—feeling as if he had just watched an old claymation movie being played at three times speed.

The janitor stood over Connor's body, his back turned to Victor. "Don't fucking interrupt!"

The sight of his friend in pain formed a knot in Victor's stomach, and the thought of potentially losing him turned his fear into rage. Without thinking, he bolted toward the janitor and aimed a punch at his temple, but he whiffed, and his forward momentum almost made him fall over.

The janitor turned around, locking eyes with him. Victor caught the hint of a smile on his face before smoothly weaving to the side, avoiding a blow.

With a grin still plastered on his face, the janitor performed a front kick, hitting Victor in his chest. He flew backwards, landing on his back. He narrowly avoided getting stomped on by rolling to his side.

Victor leapt up and got into a fighting stance. Keep your base wide. Even amid combat, his father's words still reached him. His mouth twisted into a smile. It had been a long time since he felt the rush of a good fight.

He dashed forward and missed a punch to the man's kidney. The janitor landed another powerful kick to Victor's chest, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to drop to his knees. He then yanked out a bundle of Victor's dreadlocks, making him reflexively grab the top of his head—a sharp pain now radiating from his scalp. He casually tossed Victor's dreadlocks to the side, as if throwing freshly pulled carrots into a basket. Victor let out a blood-curdling scream while writhing on the ground, feeling for his newly created bald spot.

The janitor collapsed, reaching for the back of his head while releasing short grunts of pain through gritted teeth.

Connor stood over the fallen janitor, displaying a fighting stance of his own. There was a fierceness in his eyes that almost made him unrecognizable.

Connor? Victor thought, shock-stricken.

The janitor quickly recovered and started a two hit combo. Connor easily dodged both punches before landing a graceful tornado roundhouse kick to the janitor's cheek. The kick stunned him for a moment, but he shook it off and charged at Connor's legs. Connor performed a side flip, causing him to fall face first onto the grass.

Connor frantically patted his pockets. After failing to find what he was looking for, he kissed his teeth in frustration.

Victor tried to process what he just saw, but the sharp pain in his chest and the dull sting at the top of his head made that an impossible task. Connor looked in Victor's direction for a brief moment, and that was all the janitor needed to catch him off guard.

He put most of his weight into a shove that sent Connor flying several feet away. He then ambled toward him, as if ready to finish his prey.

Victor tried to get up, but the pain was too great. A feeling of helplessness began seeping in, but his blinding fury put that to rest. He settled for staring daggers at the back of the janitor's head. He imagined it flicking away from his neck like a topper being thumbed off of a pencil. His eyes continued following the janitor until a familiar feeling began wrapping itself over him like a warm blanket—a sensation eerily similar to how he felt in gym class.

There was a tingling feeling in his hands. He rose and felt light as a feather. The pain in his chest didn't just diminish, it completely disappeared. His dark-brown eyes turned a bright, yellowish-gold and in less than a second, he was directly behind the janitor.

Victor inhaled deeply and landed a punch to the side of the janitor's head, flinging it into a tree. His body turned to dust, and the remains messily fell to the ground.

Victor peered at Connor with his gleaming eyes of gold, a warm smile stretched across his face. "Are you o—"

His head swam. He tried to balance himself but his legs betrayed him.

***

Connor caught Victor's collapsing body just as his head was about to smash into a large rock. He reflexively searched the area for help until he noticed a small bottle lying on the grass. After gently placing Victor down, he ran to the bottle, holding it up to read its label. Not this again, Connor thought before chucking it as far as he could, causing a faint splash in the distance.