Zaire sat stiffly on the infirmary bed, arms resting awkwardly on his knees. The antiseptic stung his nose, but it was nothing compared to the heavy, judgmental stare boring into the side of his face.
Nurse Ellory stood across the room with her arms folded, her gaze trained on him like he was a criminal in an interrogation room.
Zaire didn't dare look up.
He shifted slightly.
A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his temple.
"…You're not going to sneak out again, are you?" she asked flatly.
Zaire coughed. "No, ma'am."
She arched a thin, disbelieving brow. "You said that the last three times."
And the time before that. And the time before that.
Zaire could almost hear her inner monologue tallying up all the trouble he'd caused: leaving with untreated injuries, vanishing from the bed in the middle of the night, climbing out the window like a delinquent action hero. He wasn't proud of it. But sometimes he just couldn't lie around waiting for wounds to heal.
"You've given me more trouble than half the student body combined. I had to report you missing. Unauthorized discharges. I had to fill out a trauma report because you jumped out a second-story window."
He shifted on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right." Zaire winced. "I landed fine."
"With a sprained ankle and a head wound."
He shut up after that.
BANG!
The door slammed open hard enough to rattle the supply shelves.
Both heads snapped toward it.
A boy with windswept hair and no concept of indoor behavior swaggered into the room like he owned it. The heel of his boot still echoed off the floor.
Nurse Ellory's eye twitched.
"Why," she muttered under her breath, "do none of you know how to use a door handle?"
Zaire bit his lip, suppressing a laugh. The nurse shot him a glare so sharp it could've sliced open a vein.
"Out," she said to the newcomer, voice clipped. "Unless you're dying."
The boy grinned. "I might be later if I don't check on my friend."
"Then wait outside until I'm finished here."
"Okay, okay." He raised his hands in surrender, backing out. "Jeez, no need to bite."
The door swung shut—and the silence returned.
Nurse Ellory sighed and turned back to Zaire, picking up a clipboard that she had dropped on the ground.
"You're lucky your bones are more stubborn than your common sense." she muttered.
Then—bang—another door burst open.
Zaire flinched.
The nurse's pen halted mid-scratch. Her head turned slowly, eyes narrowing with bone-deep exasperation.
A girl stood in the doorway, panting, arms hooked tightly under another student's shoulders. The boy was bleeding from a nasty gash on his forehead, legs dragging uselessly behind him.
"Help!" she gasped. "He collapsed in the training yard!"
Nurse Ellory didn't waste a second.
She was already moving, pushing aside the curtain and clearing space. "Put him on the cot. What happened? Did he lose consciousness?"
As her back turned and the chaos unfolded, Zaire moved. He slid off the bed carefully, limbs aching, each step sending a dull throb through his ribs—but he stayed quiet, steady. The nurse's voice blurred into the background.
Sorry, he thought, casting a fleeting glance over his shoulder. She didn't deserve the extra paperwork.. Again. But he didn't have time to explain, or rather.. he didn't want to. Nurse Ellory wouldn't let him leave under any circumstances eitherway.
School hours were over, and if he wasted another day, he would be given another failing grade to add to his addition.
Those repeated tardies…
They weren't even his fault. And if he didn't explain himself now, he'd just be handed another mark dragging him closer to failure.
Might as well get it over with!