Chapter 3

In the afternoon, we had gym class.

The test was an eight-hundred-meter run.

I stood beside the track and watched the others warm up.

The gym teacher blew his whistle.

“Noah, are you running today?”

The whole class’s eyes landed on me.

In the past, I always used a medical note to get out of it.

But today, I did not have a medical note.

My dad had not prepared one for me last night.

“I’m running,” I said.

Whispers spread through the crowd.

“Doesn’t he have asthma?”

“He was probably faking it, I think he’s usually full of energy.”

“Split personality, I guess, maybe another personality came out today.”

I ignored them and walked to the starting line.

Ryan stood beside me and glanced at me.

“Can you do it?”

“I can.”

The whistle blew, and I shot forward.

I ran fast.

The wind roared past my ears.

I wanted to run all the tightness out of my chest.

I wanted to prove I was a healthy person, that I was not Ethan, that I did not have asthma.

On the first lap, I was in the lead.

On the second lap, my breathing grew ragged.

I was not pretending, I was truly tired.

It had been too long since I had done intense exercise.

My lungs felt like they were burning, and there was a metallic taste in my throat.

The footsteps behind me came closer and closer.

Ryan passed me.

The other boys also passed me one after another.

I gritted my teeth and stared hard at the track ahead.

I could not stop.

If I stopped, I was Ethan.

If I kept running, I was Noah.

The final lap.

My legs felt as heavy as lead.

My vision started to darken.

I heard someone shouting my name.

“Noah! Keep going!”

It was Ryan.

I used every last bit of strength I had and rushed across the finish line.

Then my legs went weak, and I dropped to my knees on the rubber track.

I gasped for air in huge mouthfuls, and sweat blurred my eyes.

Someone handed me a bottle of water.

I looked up, and it was Ryan.

“Drink some water.”

I took the bottle, twisted off the cap, and gulped down a big mouthful.

“You’re pretty fast,” he said with a smile.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth too.

Just then, a harsh voice rang out.

“Well, look at that, the asthma patient finished eight hundred meters? Still alive, huh?”

It was Tyler.

He was the boy in class who loved causing trouble the most.

He walked over with a few other boys and looked down at me from above.

“Noah, your acting isn’t good enough.”

“Yesterday you were coughing like you were dying, and today you can run eight hundred meters?”

“Is that disease of yours intermittent or something?”

The people around us burst into laughter.

I tightened my grip on the water bottle in my hand.

“What the hell does it have to do with you?” I said coldly.

“You’ve got quite the temper.” Tyler took a step closer. “I heard your dad is crazy, so did you inherit it too?”

My mind buzzed.

I shot to my feet and smashed the water bottle straight into his face.

Water splashed all over him.

Tyler froze.

The whole field went silent.

“You fucking dare hit me?” Tyler snapped back to himself and shoved me hard.

I had no strength to begin with, and when he shoved me, I fell straight to the ground.

My palm scraped open, and blood seeped out.

“Tyler! What are you doing!” Ryan stepped in front of me.

“Class president, stay out of it.” Tyler pointed at me. “This psycho started it!”

“You insulted him first!” Ryan did not back down.

The gym teacher ran over.

“What are you doing, what are you doing! Starting a riot?”

Tyler and I were both called to the discipline office.

The dean was a balding middle-aged man.

He slapped the desk, spit flying everywhere.

“Fighting! You actually dared to fight! Noah, you already fake being sick all the time, and now you dare hit a classmate?”

I lowered my head, looked at the blood on my palm, and said nothing.

“And Tyler, you too! Why are you picking on another boy?”

Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Call your parents!” the dean gave the final order. “Bring both of your parents in tomorrow!”

My heart sank hard.

Call my parent.

My dad.

If my dad came, the whole school would know what kind of person he was.

The whole school would see his madness.

I raised my head and looked at the dean.

“Sir, my dad is sick, he can’t come.”

“Sick? What kind of sickness?”

“Mental illness.”

The office suddenly went quiet.

The dean froze.

Tyler froze too.

I looked at their shocked expressions and suddenly found it a little funny.

“He’s crazy,” I said calmly. “He can’t come. If you want to expel me, then expel me.”

After I said that, I turned and walked out of the office.

The dean’s furious roar came from behind me.

I ignored it.