After few months of this nonsense, I never knew how much I would miss my level 41 warrior. At least when he got hurt, he just paid and got rezzed and then everything was fine. No trip to the infirmary. No bandages and magic and all that stuff. What was this nonsense? Well, I'll get to that later. My level 41 Warrior is actually where this story starts. Well, not really, but that's where it's going to start.

"No! What are you doing!" I yelled into my headset, taking a swig of Mountain Dew Pitch Black. "This game is so stupid!" As I watched my warrior fall in the world of MythoMagic Online, I let my head fall with a thunk onto my desk.

"You do realize it's just a game, right?" Bradley, the magic user of the group said to me, his voice crackling through the headset. I was offended almost. I know I shouldn't have been, but it was all too much.

"I now have to pay the fine, rez, get back through this godforsaken dungeon, catch up with you guys, build up my DPS. We could have been okay if someone had taken teleport, BRADLEY!" I shouted, picking my head back up. "I want Prixius to be a good fighter!" I said mockingly. "Prixius needs another knife! Prixius should have another personal protection spell! You know what Prixius needs! Teleport! Or a Freaking heal spell! Even a child of Hermes can chance a heal spell! You have nothing!"

"Dude…Calm down." Bradley said with a sigh.

"Come on, BRADLEY!" I smiled a little as Hayden chimed in. She was always good at yelling at Bradley. "Agatha has a replenishing healing draught! And I do more damage than you! And I can take more damage than you!"

"What do we even keep you here for? Aggie can increase luck! Luck, BRADLEY! LUCK!" I yelled into the mic, clenching my fists in frustration.

"Guys, relax. If it weren't for me you guys wouldn't have nearly enough stamina. Nor would you be as fast." Bradley said with a chuckle. "Petrocles would be long dead if it weren't for Prixius." I looked at him and sighed, running my hand through my and letting it fall in front of my face, a curtain of dirty blonde hair hiding my eyes.

"Bradley, I just…I can't even talk to you right now. I…ugh." I downed the rest of my Mountain Dew and sighed. "AFK." I said quickly, letting them know that I wasn't there, not like it mattered anyway. I stood up from my chair, feeling the tug of my headset, and took it off, placing it on my keyboard. "It's just a game…" I said in Bradley's nasally voice. I left the room and climbed downstairs to see my mom coming up, her shoulders brushing along the walls of the narrow hallway.

"Oh, hey there, kiddo." She said in her rough voice, deepened by a jab combo to the throat in her match against Foreman in 1999. It was my first fight and I beat her to the ground. She had told him many times in her 6 packs a day voice. "You practicing those boxing moves I taught you?" She said, taking a couple impromptu jabs in the air.

"Hey, mom." I said with a small wave as we met in the middle of the stairs, I, wanting to go down and her, not realizing my intent. "Can you uh…" I gestured with my cup, not feeling comfortable with telling my mom what to do, especially when she was back in her fighting shape.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that." She said with a smile as she backed out of the stairway into the large room, covered in her titles. Debra 'the destroyer' Everett. They read in big blocky letters with gold surrounding them on a belt that read 'World Heavyweight Champion Women's division 2002'. I always thought they were kind of silly, but her house her rules or something like that. "So, I was going to go talk to you." She said in her raspy voice. I walked into the kitchen and set down my cup before going to the fridge.

"What about? I'm pretty sure I've heard all of the stories about your boxing years about 10 times, so I hope it's not that." I said as I pulled out the 2 liter of Mountain Dew, walking back over to my cup. "I could probably quote them now, so…"

"No." My mom said with a smile as she smacked my arm, not realizing how much that hurt. "Well, I noticed there was a football game tonight and you should go. It'd be fun. You'd get to know people and stuff." I paused for a moment and looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Mom, I've no friends at Crefeld. I didn't have friends back in Lansing or in St. Louis." I nodded and took a sip out of the bottle, finishing it off. "Or in Boston or either time in Colorado Springs. I'm just not the type of person who makes friends."

"Well, maybe it's because you don't go to football games." She said, running her fingers through her hair and watched with narrowed eyes as I crushed the bottle and threw it into the recycling.

"So, the reason that I have been a social outcast for all 8 years of my schooling, isn't because of my ADHD and mild dyslexia, but because I don't go to football games?" I asked, finding her logic absent in her argument. My mom had a tendency to do that. It was endearing sometimes, but a lot of the time it was just annoying.

"Come on, Peter." She said with a chuckle. "Look, if anyone bullies you then just use the moves I taught you. You know how to defend yourself. Just put it to good use." She said, taking a deep breath. I looked her in the eye. I knew I was going to regret going and knowing what I do now I regret it even more.

"Okay…" I said, feeling defeated. "Let me get some clothes on and then you can drive me over." I ran my fingers through my hair and looked down at my gigantic cup of Mountain Dew. "I already crushed the…" I sighed and grabbed it, biting the lip of it in my teeth as I closed the fridge and walked back into the living room.

"I promise you're going to have fun, Peter." My mom said, slapping me on the back. My mom's hand felt like a frying pan and her big muscled body stood about a foot over me and my slender frame. It's not that I was a stick figure, but I didn't have much muscle on my bones.

"We'll see." I said before taking a drink and reaching my room, closing the door behind me with my foot.

"Peter!" I glanced over at the voice and realized that I was still AFK. I quickly hurried over, taking another sip, determined to finish the drink before I left no matter how badly I would have to take a leak at the game.

"What? What happened?" I asked, slipping my headset back on.

"Thank goodness! Look, Peter. We're all dead and you're the only one with enough money to get a rez for all of us, so rez and then we'll finish this up." Bradley explained with a sigh of relief. I felt bad initially, but that soon turned into spite when I realized why I left in the first place. I laughed a little and took another drink.

"Sorry, guys." I said with a grin. "I've gotta go. You can figure it out. Maybe next time someone will learn how to heal, BRADLEY." I said bitterly into the microphone.

"Dammit, BRADLEY!" Hayden started before I exited the game and shut off my headset, leaving it on my keyboard with my computer asleep. I stood back up and finished the rest of my drink, some of the soda dripping down the sides of my mouth and onto my shirt. I didn't care. I was going to change anyway. I pulled off my shirt, wiping my mouth with it then throwing it in the general vicinity of my closet where my hamper rested. I pulled on my 'You have died of dysentery' shirt and smoothed out some of the wrinkles. I quickly checked my hair in the mirror and grabbed my converse that had the TARDIS drawn on them. I put them on the walked out, meeting my mother in the stairs again. "We've got to stop meeting like this, mom." I said with a smile when I realized she was forcing me to go to a football game where I would more than likely stand around or play Angry Birds until it was over and then get bullied until she picked me up. She scoffed and walked back down into the living room again.

"Okay. You ready to go?" She asked, twirling her keys on her fingers. I reluctantly nodded, but I still wasn't ready. Is it really possible to be perfectly ready for something you don't want to do? We left the house and walked to the garage. I told her to take the Maserati, but she insisted on the Prius. Because I had some credibility left that she wanted to get rid of. We got in and she drove, but there wasn't much else. She reminded me of some fighting techniques at first, but that quickly became her telling me how she took down Bobbi Jo Livingston in the second round. Which made it the 8th time I had heard that story. She pulled up to the stadium and I looked at her. I was hoping that she might turn around and take me home, but that didn't happen. "Bye, sweetie. Here's some money. Have fun!" She said, practically pushing me out of the car and then driving off. I sighed and looked around as several people looked at me like I was from a different planet. It was summer. Why did I have to spend time with people from school? Since I went to a special school they provide sports programs during the summer so it is not a distraction during the year. I walked to the ticket booth and bought a ticket and entered the stadium. Thankfully I showed up late, so I missed some of it.

"Crefeld! Crefeld! Go team! Go!" I looked over at the cheerleaders and saw the mascot. Freddy the Faun. Mascot for the Crefeld School the home of the fighting Fauns. The Crefeld School didn't have a football team, but they had a club team that was closely affiliated with the school. The school however, due to budget cuts and the 'discouraging nature of competitive activity,' Crefeld did not support any sports teams.

"We're going to ma-a-a-ake the competition wee-ee-ee-p!" Freddy cried out, being responded by a roar of laughter and applause. Freddy Lipton. Freddy and I had seen a good share of the bullying. Who knew being the mascot wasn't a perfect bully-proof job? There was a flag and a timeout was called. The cheerleaders took the field. My eyes fell on her. Like they always did. Lindsey Blackman. A mane of beautiful blonde hair tied up into a ponytail for the uniform. Tanned skin and perfectly whitened and straightened teeth, making her an image of beauty. In choir. On the cheerleading squad. Plays volleyball. Incredibly intelligent. It's a shame that I'm in love with her. I have been since I was born here and we grew up together. I was four when we moved and as much as I wanted her to come with she had to stay. We visited Philadelphia a few times and we caught up once or twice, but for the most part we're no longer friends. Who knows? Maybe it's just hero worship. She was dating Jock number 3 and I was far off of the list of desirables.

"Everett, who said you were allowed to show up here?" I turned to see the boy genius Eli Morris looking down at me. He was as dumb as rocks and other freshman had been recruited to do his homework on more than one occasion.

"I'm just watching the game, meatheads. Please…pay me no mind like you usually do." I said, patting him on the shoulder. I knew it wasn't smart to antagonize them, but I didn't want to be here.

"We saw your mommy drop you off here." Robert, Eli's friend and partner in stupidity, said with a laugh.

"Oh, Robert. Eli let you take his balls out of your mouth long enough to speak." I said with a scoff. I could feel my face getting hot, but I wasn't going to let these bullies get a rise out of me. "That's precious."

"Hey, shut up, Everett!" Eli said, poking me in the chest. I took a deep breath and clenched my fists, looking up at him through my hair. "Obviously, we don't want you here. No one wants you here."

"We have something in common. I don't want me here either." I said with a wry laugh before turning back to the game. I hoped that would be the end of it. I was hoping that he would leave it at that and no one would get hurt. They didn't feel the same way.

"Then how about you give that dyke mom of yours a call?" Eli said with a laugh. I turned around and it felt like my entire body was on fire. I wanted to kill them. I wanted to rip their throats out. I might not like my mother, but she's my mother and a damn good one at that. No one is going to talk about her like that. I was blinded by rage for a minute and in that minute I found myself standing over Robert's unconscious body, my hand in a fist, his nose in a smear on his face and my fist and the ground and his shirt. Eli grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up. "I'm gonna kill you, Everett!" He shouted, raising his fist.

"I…hurt your…your boyfriend, didn't I?" I wheezed, grabbing the hand around my neck and trying to pull it off.

"Why are you even alive, Everett?" He shouted into my face. I felt stronger and stronger and faster and I felt my body getting hot again. It was on fire. Eli shouted and let go of me, screaming in pain. He clutched his hand and looked at me like I had just lit him on fire. He cursed and fell to his knees, holding his hand as Security descended upon us. I knew I shouldn't have gone to this football game.

"All three of you come with me!" The security guard with a nametag that read Julian said, grabbing Eli and I by our arms. Some other guy grabbed Robert and hauled him away. I scoffed as he dragged me away and I looked up to see Lindsey looking at me. The look on her face was weird. Like she was concerned, but trying not to show too much interest. Julian brought us to a room in the actual building at one end of the stadium. I glanced over at Eli who was still clutching his hand and crying like a little girl. I didn't even do anything. "I found these two fighting out by the track. There was a third one, but Jim carried him to get him cleaned up."

Eli got picked up and apparently taken to the hospital. I wasn't sure why, but he was complaining about his hand. He cried the entire way out, which was a little victory for me, but I quickly realized how much Monday was going to suck. It took my mom some extra time to get here. I don't know if she refused to believe that I actually got into a fight or if she was celebrating, but her phone cell was about 10 minutes longer than the one to Eli's mom. Either way, she was stonefaced when she came to pick me up.

"I cannot believe you, young man. Getting into fights." She grabbed my ear, but I could tell she wasn't pulling it as hard as she could have been. "I will be sure to give him a stern talking to, sir. Thanks for calling me promptly. Come with me, Peter." She said to the chief security officer. He kept me in his office, called my mom, and then proceeded to take a nap, his feet up on his desk and his hat over his eyes. I was a little shocked honestly at how bad security was, but I wanted to get out of there, so I stayed.

"Yes, ma'am." I said, rolling my eyes a little as she finally released my ear. I followed her out of the room and out of the building. I glanced out at the game just as the opposing team's quarterback got sacked so hard his helmet flew off. I took a mental note to never play football. I imagined my head flying off and landing on the sidelines just like that helmet did. "Mom, I didn't mean to—"

"You have been listening!" She said, wrapping me up in a bonecrushing hug. "All I wanted was for you to stand up for yourself, sweetie." I was a little surprised, but I reluctantly patted her back and she released me, air rushing back into my lungs.

"I uh…thanks, I guess." I said, clearing my throat a little. I followed her and got in when we finally reached the car again.

"So what was it like?" She asked, seeming a little excited that her son, knocked someone out and hospitalized another person. I looked at her like she was crazy.

"I…Good, I guess. Those guys had it coming, honestly." I said with a nod. It felt good to punch Robert in the face. That little lapdog was getting on everyone's nerves. What I didn't know what to think about was Eli's hand. He held it like he had set it on a hot burner or that he had his skin flayed off. I didn't do anything or at least I didn't think I did anything, but it made me worry a little. "Hey, mom?"

"What is it, Peter?" She said, smiling over at me. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat.

"I put Eli in the hospital, but it uh…it was weird." I shook my head a little as I envisioned him screaming and holding his hand. "It looked like I burned his hand or something. I'm just imagining things, right?" I looked over at her and she seemed to think it over. It was a little worrisome how long she thought about it. It's not a difficult question. At least I didn't think so.

"Maybe you just don't know your own strength." She said, giving me a little wink out of the corner of her eye. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, Peter. It's not like you can…control fire or something. Just relax."