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Jack walked quickly down the hall, gently blowing air onto his fingernails. He was late for class because he just so happened to find a color he liked at the corner store during lunch.
Out of nowhere someone slammed into him, shoving him against the lockers with a loud bang. He looked up and saw the usual – a guy named Erik with his two friends.
“Hey, Jackie,” Erik sneered.
“It’s Jack,” Jack muttered, picking himself up off the floor.
“Then why don’t you start acting like it? Hm?” Erik said, smirking and shoving the boy again. “What kind of man pains his nails and puts frilly bows in their hair?” He reached out and swiped the blue bow from Jack’s green hair.
“Give that back,” Jack said.
“Nah,” Erik said, inspecting the bow. “I think I’ll give it to my little sister, an actual girl.”
Jack reached for the bow, but got a blow to the stomach. He keeled over and struggled to stay standing and breathe. Erik punched him in the face, and shoved him back down before nodding to his goons and turning on his heel. Erik’s friends followed him as he left.
Jack sat there, on the ground, trying to catch his breath. He held his stomach, trying to ignore the blood and bruise blooming on his face.
After a few moments, a nearby door opened. Jack looked up. A boy about his age stood there, after the door closed, holding a restroom pass. He had dark friendly eyes and dark hair. “Uh... are you okay?”
Jack couldn’t help but scowl. “Does it look like I am?” he snapped, wiping the blood from his face. The area right below his left eye throbbed.
“Sorry.” The boy bit his lip. “Do you need help to get to the nurse?”
“I’ll be fine,” Jack muttered, pushing himself up and ignoring the boy’s offered hand.
“I think you probably should…”
“If I do, will you shut up?”
“Sure…”
Jack sighed and started walking to the nurse’s office. The boy, who was at least a foot taller than Jack, trailed him like a puppy. “Don’t you have a restroom to visit?”
“I actually got out of class to see what the ruckus was. Ms. Polymer told us not to worry. I guess she was wrong.”
Jack shrugged, trying to remain noncommittal. “I guess.”
“Is that nail polish?”
Jack quickly shoved his hands into his pockets, speeding up his walk so that the boy had to job to catch up.
“Sorry,” the boy said, then fell silent. Jack slowed his walk. “I’m Mark, by the way.”
Jack didn’t reply.
“What’s your name?”
“Jack.”
They reached the nurse’s office. “Hello, Mark!” one of the nurses greeted. “What brings you here?”
“Jack got hurt in the hall,” Mark said, gesturing to the Irish man.
By this time Jack had let his hands rest at the top of his jeans pockets, having relaxed in Mark’s presence. The nurse took in his appearance and lingered on the hands, saying in an almost disapproving tone, “Oh. I see.”
Jack’s hands curled until his colored nails dug into his palms. “I’m actually fine, Mark,” Jack said. “Really.” He turned around and left the office. He heard Mark’s protest and surprise and kept walking away. When he got to the main halls he hid in a restroom until lunch.
Lunch was always trouble. There was always a large crowd of people and any individual could trip Jack, or shove him, or call him names. He kept his head down, hoping to not attract attention so he could at least eat. The day before he had had to skip lunch.
Luckily he was able to make it through the line. He found a secluded corner and sat at the table, setting his things down. He frowned at his nails. Erik had ended up messing them up, before they could dry fully. He picked at his food once he got a good look at it.
“You didn’t stay at the nurse,” a voice said in front of him.
Jack looked up in surprise. It was Mark, and behind him standing uncertainly were a few other guys. Jack hoped they weren’t going to gang up on him, or at least wait until the next day. “The nurse didn’t want anything to do with me,” Jack said, shrugging. “Why do you care?”
“I just do,” Mark said, sitting down in front of him. He looked up at his friends. “You can go and sit at the regular table. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” They left. “What do you mean the nurse didn’t want anything to do with you?”
“Come on, you saw the way she looked at me. Nobody likes the freak.”
“I don’t think you’re a freak.”
Jack looked up at Mark from his beans. “Why not?”
“Just because you’re a little different doesn’t mean I have to hate you. I mean, all you do is wear nail polish and do some stereotypically girly stuff. It’s not like you’re an ax murderer.” Jack looked down but couldn’t help but smile a little. “Hey. If you want, l could teach you some self-defense.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Might help with the bullies.”
“Uh, I guess. Thanks.”
Mark smiled. "So," he said, looking down at Jack's nails. "Why pink?"
Jack looked down at his messed up nail polish. "Technically, it's fuchsia."