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I sat on the bench, nearly exhausted. I had just spent most of the lunch break searching for John. He wasn't in his usual spot, neither were any of his friends. He wasn't in the library either. Completely stumped, I sighed heavily and placed my head in my hands.

'Where is he? Is he avoiding me? Why?'

About to give up and go to class, I caught sight of one of John's friends walking towards a class. I got up and chased after the boy, trying to remember who it was.

I finally caught up with him and tapped him on the shoulder. The boy turned around, beaming when he saw who it was.

"Damien! How are ya? I haven't seen ya in ages! What'd ya do ta ya arm?" Guy asked.

I noticed his weird accent and remembered that it was Guy. He waited while I fumbled in my pocket for my new personal organizer. This one had a QWERTY keypad, so I could type up what I wanted to say with only one hand.

"I had an accident. Do you know where John is? I need to talk to him please!"

Guy scratched his head in thought.

"Yeah, I 'avn't seen him either... "

His face brightened up as a sudden memory struck him.

"That's right! He told me 'e would be in basketball practice today, 'e would!"

Excitement fuelled me as I thanked Guy and rushed off in the direction of the gym where I knew the tryouts were held. I checked my watch and hurried up, as there was only a few minutes left until the bell rung.

The gym was located at the far end of the school. It was a modern steel building that had been opened just last year. It sported two indoor courts, an outdoor swimming pool and its own gym complete with work-out machines and gym instructor. I arrived there, pushing the heavy glass entrance doors open. I rushed across the polished wooden floor of the hallway connecting the two courts and gym together and opened the door two the old court (it already existed before the other things were added on around it) just as the bell sounded.

I glanced around the room. Several boys were packing up the balls and uniforms. John had just taken off his blue team shirt and threw it onto a pile of others.

Ignoring the stares of the other boys, I rushed across the court and straight to John. If I had a voice, I would have been screaming my frustrations at him. Instead, I bought my hand around and slapped John's cheek hard.

John stood there, his head turned to the side with the force of the attack. The others gasped in unison and everyone crowded around, thinking we were fighting. I got embarrassed and shy at the sudden attention. Leaving John standing there, dumbstruck, I ran through the crowd and out of the gym.

I didn't go to class; I kept running until I was out of breath. I sat on a nearby step, not really paying attention to where I had ended up. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I didn't know why I had hit him. It was unlike of me to use violence against anyone, especially in front of such a large crowd. I clenched my fists tightly, my nails sliced into my flesh. I grimaced at the pain and blankly gazed at the small burrows which were bleeding profusely now. Why? Why? Why? Why? I brought my knees up against my chest and placed my face in my good hand. I huddled there; eyes closed, shoulders shaking, bawling and sniffing.

Time passed, I didn't know how much, but before I knew it, it was the end of the day. I started, breaking out of his stupor. I stood on my sore legs, angry at myself for zoning out like that and missing classes. I glanced around, shocked at where I ended up after I had run in blind panic. I was outside John's house and had been sitting on his doorstep. I didn't know what to think. Had I run there intentionally? Was it just because his house was the closest to school? Was it a coincidence?

I started down the path quickly, glimpsing around furtively, hoping that no one was around. I spotted an old lady across the road, surveying me suspiciously. I smiled nervously and waved at her, hoping I seemed as casual as possible. As I stalked out of the front gate, I caught sight of John in the distance, walking down the street.

Panicking once more, I dived behind a bush in John's garden, hoping I hadn't been spotted by him. I was so embarrassed, I thought I would die.

I strolled down the street, still pondering my reaction earlier today. He knew he deserved it. He was none the wiser that the mute, myself, was crouching in his garden. He noticed Ms. Mabel, his neighbor, across the road. He waved at her in a friendly manner.

"Hey, Ms. Mabel!"

She waved back and then shouted back something that sounded like she saw someone crying on his doorstep. He shrugged and walked into his garden. Just as he walked past where I was hiding, I sneezed. It wasn't loud, but John heard it still.

"Hello? Who's there?"

I covered my mouth, not wanting to make another noise even though it is impossible for me to do so. John didn't give up looking, but muttered to himself.

"Must've been a cat or something."

He crouched down and started to rub his finger against his thumb.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Puss, puss, puss..."

When nothing happened after a minute, John sighed and stood, giving up.

As the boy was turning away, I sat down because my legs were getting cramped from crouching for so long. Something sharp pricked me from behind, making me jump to my feet. I blushed the brightest yet, knowing John was staring at me in bewilderment.

"Um... Hello, Damien....Um... What are you doing here?"

I gazed down at my feet, far too embarrassed to look at him. I didn't want to reply, I just wanted to be left alone.

"Come back for more? Want to have another go at me?" John said with anger.

I shook my head sadly.

"Why'd you hit me? In front of everyone... How dare you!"

I flinched, expecting to be punched or hit. But nothing happened.

I glanced up at John and was surprised. He was on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as if he was praying, but his eyes were open. He was looking straight at me.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me... I've been such a dick to you. I've been so mean. Forgive me, please. I love you so much; I don't know why I hurt you so..."

I was dumbstruck. I scrabbled in my pockets for my personal organizer, but not knowing what to say. I started by asking why.

"Why are you so weird? Why were you avoiding me? You say you love me and then you turn around and do something weird and hurtful."

"I'm sorry. I... I tried too hard. I love you, Damien. I was just afraid. I didn't want to find out that you hated me. I was terrified that I would hurt you... OK."

John sat down, taking a deep breath.

"Alright, I'll tell you. But please don t hate me..."

I shook my head and sat down next to him, hoping that I was about to finally understand everything.

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