The End of the Tunnel
"Sometimes a problem will lead you to what you're looking for."
The young freshman slowly lowered himself into his seat beside his two friends, Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. He leaned forward, careful not to let his back touch the back of the seat. His baby blue eyes, though forever sullen, were brimming with eagerness to absorb as much knowledge as he could. You simply had to see past the dull, near-lifeless look to his eyes. Behind them was a boy who seemed trapped and unable to come out of himself, a boy who was tortured within but wouldn't let anyone know. He summoned enormous amounts of energy every day to act like he was perfectly fine.
But Lancer caught glimpses of him when the boy thought he was alone. He didn't have any life to him. His mouth would set in a depressed frown and he would stare at the world through half-lidded eyes. Even on beautiful days he would sit under the bleachers on both sides of Casper High's football field. His feet would scrape some of the dirt as he let himself down, making sure to always be under the shade, where he seemed most comfortable. Then he would hang his head halfway down and let his arms go slack. He would always look anything but relaxed.
In fact, he was the opposite: Always alert, always trying to tune into his surroundings...just so he could put up another facade and lie about why he was sitting down looking like he hadn't slept in weeks.
He did actually look like that even if he pretended to be hyper. When he dropped his little act, he was weak and vulnerable. He had dark circles under his eyes; from stress or lack of rest Lancer didn't know. The teacher was awed that he hadn't passed out yet. Lately he had seen the boy weakening despite his efforts to look fine. He still used the bathroom more than any other student, but he was sluggish in his movements and lethargic during class. Sometimes he would hang his head down to pretend he was studying or reviewing something. But Lancer always noticed how hard it was for him to force his eyes to stay open.
Another thing about him was that he was constantly disrupting class with a snarling stomach. He was getting skinny. It was normal for a teenager to be thin given their high metabolism, but he was getting very skinny. There were times when the poor boy had to drop his head onto his desk and try to lift it up again. The shocking thing was, his friends didn't seem so concerned about this strange behavior. It was clear to anyone that his student wasn't eating enough, and probably lacking the necessary amount of sleep just to keep him functional.
Today was one of his worse days. And yes, he did have days worse than usual; and his usual was never very good at all. His worse days consisted of him hanging onto consciousness by a thread. He still tried to keep up his energy, bless his heart, but just couldn't do it. His feet dragged, his head hung, and his arms would hang flaccid by his side. His hair would even lose its normal sheen. In short, he looked dull.
But he never complained.
"Daniel," Lancer said as he walked under the bleachers to where his student sat. "I would like to have a talk with you after school today concerning your recent (which was never recent at all) behavior."
He could only watch with sympathy as the freshman blanched. Why was he doing that though? Was he keeping a secret from everyone? Possibly. He looked as though he suffered from anorexia. That could be his secret. If not, then what exactly was he hiding?
"Um...y-yes, sir," he replied in a small voice.
Idk... Prologue or something. All I know is that the rest of the chapters will be longer. I wouldn't expect a long story out of this. Just something simple. Right now it's from Lancer's perspective (not POV because this isn't first person). You'll see some of Danny's perspective too, just not right now.