(I have a pretty large bruise – it’s in the shape of a heart, but that particular aspect calls for another story – on my thigh, caused by me ramming into the metal turnstile in my hurry to catch the train home. The turnstile looks like an aluminum baseball bat, and this is where this story comes from.)
I notice people staring at me as I walk to class. It’s not all that surprising – there are bad cuts on my face, not to mention the swelled-up lumps where my eyes used to be. When I looked in the mirror last night I looked like Chewbacca – right now I look like his uglier older brother.
I pull up my hoodie as I settle in at the back of the classroom. It was the time to be low-key, they had said. It was going to get a lot worse.
I take a deep breath.
I guess it’s all worth it.