Victor cautiously jogged down the stairs, making sure not to hit any of the framed medals and ribbons hanging on the walls. He was about to greet his father when a news story grabbed his attention.

"...near Douglas elementary. Information about her death has been labeled as confidential by the CMPD, but we expect the truth to come out eventually..." His father was seated on the couch, watching intently.

"They found another one?" Victor asked. His father smiled—a tinge of despair in his eyes.

His dad turned the TV off, choosing instead to start blasting Jamiroquai's Emergency on Planet Earth out of his recently purchased sound system. Victor groaned the moment he heard the warped didgeridoo at the beginning of "When You Gonna Learn." That stupid album had been a thorn in his side since before he could even walk. It was his dad's favorite album. That or it was the first album he ever heard, playing it damn near everyday out of stubborn loyalty.

"Morning. I heard you're getting your ACT scores today.”

Victor's shoulders slumped as his school counselor's words echoed in his mind:

Your future is at stake.

"I saw how much work you put into studying for this test," his dad added. "Even if you don't get the score that you want, it won't be the end of the world." Victor's shoulders rose, but the residue of concern was still present. "Did you make your bed?" Victor was shocked. Of course he made his bed, he always made his bed. "Do me a favor and check again."

Victor reluctantly headed back up the stairs and found his comforter on the floor. "How did you know?"

"When you're feeling down, you always forget to make your bed," his dad said with a smile. Victor masked his embarrassment by swiftly remedying the mistake.

Victor's dad threw an arm around his son, gripping him tightly. Even though he was in amazing shape, Victor still found himself startled by his strength. The specks of white peppering his father's hair were the only noticeable indicators of his age. Without that, he could easily pass for someone twenty years his junior.

His father was a Vietnamese man in his early forties, rocking his typical buzz cut and goatee combo. His slightly faded, tight fitting green t-shirt did little to conceal his muscular frame. Victor couldn't remember the last time he felt his father's embrace. They had transitioned to the handshake stage of their relationship and he was comfortable with that, but he appreciated the extra affection.

His dad pulled back while keeping a hand on his son's shoulder. "Make sure you head straight home after school for training, okay? Your uppercuts still need work. Love you."

"Love you too."

Victor glanced in the mirror hanging in the foyer.

Perfect.

He inspected his white sneakers for scuff marks and bolted out the door.

The second Victor stepped outside, a memory hit him.

Shoulders back, chest out, and keep your head up, V. Open yourself up to what the world has to offer.

His father's words always seemed to come to him at the perfect moment. He adjusted his posture, lifted his head, and started toward the bus stop.

As his foot hit the crack riddled sidewalk, his neighbor Connor exited his house and headed toward Victor's side of the street. Connor wore a crisp white dress shirt, blue jeans, and navy blue slip on sneakers.

Despite wearing the same shoes every day, they were always clean and somehow free of creases. Connor was about three inches taller than Victor, and he especially noticed the height difference that day. He was slight of frame and he always stood with perfect posture. His milky white skin was clear of all blemishes and his dark-rimmed glasses matched his jet black hair.

"What's up?" Connor said with his eyes half-closed. Victor responded with a head nod, and they walked toward their neighbor's menacing oak tree—the branches protruding out every which way like the tentacles of an octopus. There was one particular branch that hovered over the sidewalk. Every morning, Victor and Connor would jump and try to grab it. Neither of them ever came close to touching the branch, but they would spend the rest of the trip to the bus stop arguing about who came the closest.

As Victor scuttled toward an empty seat at the back of the bus, he caught the eye of a girl he had never noticed before. He gave her a cool smile, making sure to not appear too interested. She responded with a toothy grin before lowering her head and blushing. Her auburn hair fell swiftly.

"What happened to Bridgette?" Connor groaned.

"She wanted something that I couldn't give her," Victor said, matching Connor's tone.

"And what's that?"

Victor ran his fingers through his long dark-brown dreadlocks. "Monogamy."

Connor cringed and huffed at the same time. "I'm sure that sounded way cooler in your head. Also, monogamy is a big word for you. Maybe you'll end up getting a good score after all."

Victor puffed his chest out. "I know I got a good score."

He stepped off the bus and headed toward the school's courtyard. With Connor right behind him, he glared at the giant stone block that read: Carlisle High School. Before delving too deep into the thought of dropping out, his dad's disappointed face flashed in his mind's eye.

He aggressively adjusted his backpack and looked to the brightly colored figure standing near a stone bench.

A girl wearing a yellow and white tie-dyed t-shirt, white capri pants, and round sunglasses flashed her blindingly white teeth.

"Hey guys!" she yelled. The amethyst stone attached to her necklace almost shone as bright as her teeth. She stood at a whopping five-foot-four, and her bronze colored skin—which was a tad lighter than Victor's—seemed to glow under the sunlight. Her green highlights had almost completely faded, leaving behind her natural brown colored hair. She paused for a moment, then her smile waned. "Your aura isn't in good shape, V." She looked him all over. "There's gray everywhere."

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

"You haven't mentioned my aura in a while. I was starting to think that amethyst was just for show."

"You can't joke your way out of this one. Tell me what's going on."

"Bridgette broke up with him," Connor said. "And he thinks acting like he doesn't care makes him look cool." He shot Victor a glare before dramatically rolling his eyes.

"You are way off," Victor said.

"Summer, how long was V's longest relationship again?" Connor asked.

"He's just not the monogamous type," Summer said, ignoring Connor's question. "And that's fine." She grabbed the amethyst stone attached to her necklace. "V, you were saying something?"

"Uh... it was nothing, and stop reading my chakras or whatever you're doing. It's creepy." Victor abruptly headed toward the cafeteria. Summer and Connor tailed him, having a conversation of their own.

Victor's stomach turned as he scowled at the styrofoam bowl filled with dry scrambled eggs covered in crusty cheese. He usually tried to get some protein into him every morning, but his appetite was nowhere to be found. A basket full of red apples caught his eye. After grabbing one, a gasp came from behind him. He turned and saw Summer covering her mouth with her hand, gripped by shock.

"Are you actually about to eat something healthy?" she asked while turning to face Connor. "You were right. Bridgette did a number on him."

"Told you," Connor said while grabbing a pack of blueberry Pop-Tarts.

"There is no way you guys are still on this," Victor said, exasperated.

"I liked Bridgette quite a bit," Connor said. "And man, the things we used to say about you behind your back..." He looked up as if he was reminiscing. By the time he looked back down, Victor had already made his way toward an empty table.

Once seated, Connor began his daily ritual. He would delicately remove the pastries from their packaging and separate the crust from the Pop-Tart, placing each on their own individual paper towel. He would then devour the crust before chomping on the section coated with icing.

He did this every morning, and the flavor was always blueberry.

A couple of years ago, Victor and Summer noticed that when Connor was performing this ritual, he would bite his bottom lip and become absorbed by the act. From then on, they would take turns trying to say the most outlandish things possible, hoping to goad a reaction out of him.

"So my pet cheetah bit my boyfriend's ear off last night," Summer said. She took a bite of her apple, juice trickling down the side of her mouth.

Connor put the Pop-Tart down. "You guys realize that I can hear you, right?" Victor and Summer stared daggers at each other. Pieces of apple inside Summer's mouth became exposed as her lips slowly parted. In all the years that Victor and Summer had known Connor, he had never stopped to address them before finishing his daily ritual.

"Yeah, I'm not deaf," Connor said. "It's just that until now, I chose to focus on preparing my breakfast instead of reacting to the drivel that came out of either of your mouths."

"And what made you change your mind this time, my oh so humble king?" Victor snorted.

Connor presented an impish grin while meeting Summer's gaze. "Bit my boyfriend's ear off? I've heard a lot of silly things over the years, but you saying that you have a boyfriend was just too preposterous for me to ignore."

Victor let out a belly laugh that pierced through the loud cafeteria noise. Summer lowered her head, trying to hide her smile.

"So," Summer said after everyone settled down. "How do you guys think you did on the ACT?"

"I think I nailed it," Victor said with a puffed out chest.

Summer presented a mocking smile, the same smile a woman gives an overconfident man boasting on a first date.

She gave Connor a look. "Let me guess, you think you got a perfect score?"

Connor put one finger up and quickly finished chewing. "I'm thinking I got a thirty-five, possibly a thirty-four."

"Oh, so you think you almost got a perfect score. How bashful of you," Victor said with his nose in the air. "What about you, Summer? How do you think you did?"

"Honestly, I don't think I did that great. But you know what, even if I don't get a good score this time, I can always take it again. A test doesn't define me. One test doesn't define anyone." Victor immediately felt the warmth of her words, but he refused to let it show on his face. "Would you look at that? Your aura is clearing up!" Summer exclaimed before flashing her perfect teeth. Victor didn't respond. He directed his attention to his untouched apple, holding it by its stem and spinning it on the table like a top.

The first period bell rang, immediately giving Victor a burst of energy. He rushed toward the cafeteria's exit, leaving his uneaten apple behind.

The screech from Mr. Ryan's whistle quieted the student's murmurs. They quickly got into a horizontal line, awaiting further instructions.

Victor caught Connor sneaking glances at Summer. Just make a move already.

"Today's game is dodgeball!" Mr. Ryan exclaimed. A wave of excitement washed over Victor. The teacher jogged to the supply closet and rolled out a ball rack full of different colored dodgeballs. He languidly pushed the rack toward one side of the gymnasium, as if the act of yelling and jogging exerted all of his energy.

Every morning, Victor watched his gym teacher agonize over every action he took, no matter how minute. And every morning he asked himself how someone so out of shape even got the job.

The students separated into two groups of eleven. One group of kids grabbed a ball and went to their respective half of the gym, a thick line of white tape separating each half. Mr. Ryan grabbed a chair from the supply closet and sat near the door. The whistle around his neck rattled as he pulled out his phone.

Victor shot a devilish grin at Connor, who was on the other side of the white tape.

He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. Despite physically looking like he was in shape, Victor truly believed that Connor was the least athletic human being on the planet. Even as children, Victor destroyed him in every game that required even a modicum of physical activity. Connor had been taking taekwondo classes since they were kids, yet all of those years of training did nothing for his athleticism and stamina.

Connor despised gym class, and he knew Victor couldn't resist getting him out as soon as possible, so he always picked the opposing team.

Victor turned to his right, Summer already holding a dodgeball with a face full of determination, as if ready to head into battle.

The blare of the whistle initiated the start of the game, and without hesitation, Victor flung a ball at Connor's arm.

Connor raised his hand and meandered his way to the section of the gym dedicated to tagged out students. Victor easily caught a ball thrown at him and then launched it at another student.

Summer ducked just in time and a ball flew by, almost hitting a student behind her. She retaliated by launching a perfectly thrown ball at her attacker, tagging him out.

She raised her arms in celebration. "I got—"

A dodgeball to the shin cut her gloating short, causing her to amble her way toward a grinning Connor.

After several minutes of balls being flung back and forth, it eventually came down to two people: Victor and another student named Collin. Prior to last week, Victor had won every game of dodgeball. Collin had ended his winning streak, and it pissed Victor off to no end. When asked to compare his athleticism to anyone else's, he expected to win.

Victor focused on the pale green ball in Collin's hand. Almost everything surrounding it vanished. He could only hear his heartbeat, as steady as a metronome. A gradual sense of euphoria began consuming him.

Collin threw the ball. To Victor, it appeared to be moving in slow motion. Then—with the grace of a gymnast—he moved his body to the side, performing a dodge before gracefully planting his left foot onto the ground, and throwing his ball at Collin's right leg with pinpoint accuracy.

The sound of the whistle blaring knocked him out of this momentary nirvana. His legs buckled, and his arms were jelly. Feeling as if he had just finished a triathlon, not a simple game of dodgeball.

He looked over to where the other students were, ready to soak up all the adulation. He felt deflated when half of the students were on their phones, the other half enveloped in their own conversations.

He panned his field of vision to where Summer and Connor stood. Summer's mouth was agape. Her eyes widened, further revealing their hazel-brown color. Victor met Connor's gaze and a chill ran down his spine, receiving a look of equal parts terror and befuddlement.

Out of the corner of his eye, a janitor stood frozen in the hallway, glaring at him. He held eye contact for a beat before spinning around and scampering away.

The bell signaling a period change brayed. The rest of the students headed toward the locker room like a pack of lemmings. Victor started toward the lockers as well, leaving Summer and Connor behind. He felt their eyes following him as he walked away.