A few weeks passed, and things appeared to be looking up. I was on top of my study for once, mum and I were getting along, Tate seemed as happy as he normally was, which wasn't a lot, and I hadn't seen Nora in a while either. Something I figured was a good sign.

But, as all good things must, this soon ended.

It ended on a Tuesday afternoon as I waited for Tate at the front gates of our school. He was running later than normal, and I was growing impatient. Deciding that he could walk home himself if he was going to take that long, I slowly began walking down the footpath away from the school. At least it was a nice day.

The sound of the school doors crashing open stopped me. I was preparing a witty remark about his time management skills when I turned and realised that it wasn't Tate walking through the doors, but a group of jocks. The same four that had tried to follow Tate after school before I'd stepped in and confronted them. This wasn't good.

I could tell by the smirks on their faces, and the way they jostled each other as they walked down the front steps that they'd been up to something. Their sudden silence and side-long glances as they walked by me told me it had to do with Tate. Immediately I walked back through the front gates and into the school. Figuring I could start at his locker, I headed down the hallway and tried to lock into the surrounding classrooms. Somewhat difficult considering most of them were locked.

There was no sign of Tate.

Hoping he might be in either the gym or cafeteria I headed further into the school, trying to think like a jock to guess where they'd put and what they'd done to Tate.

I ended up empty-handed in my search of both locations and had only just had the bright idea to try and call Tate to see where he was, when I literally ran straight into him. Almost falling over, I quickly recovered, but then stood frozen when I saw Tate's face.

He had a split lip and one eye was half-shut, the swelling already obvious. It would be black in an hour.

"Oh my god." The whispered exclamation left me without thought, and I could feel the horror on my face. Tate stood in front of me, looking at the ground, a small smile playing on his bruised lips. I didn't know how he could be smiling in this situation, but he was. Anger suddenly filled me. "Why are you smiling?" I demanded, "After what they did? Why aren't you angry?"

"Because it doesn't matter, Calypso. It doesn't matter."

I pushed past him, walking quickly, anger still pulsing through me. I didn't acknowledge Tate as he followed along beside me. I was angry at him. I was also angry at the people who had done this to him, but in a way, I was angrier with Tate because he felt like it didn't matter. It mattered a lot. He needed to report this, to show those jocks that they couldn't just pick on whoever they wanted.

We reached the street light on the corner in record time, and I was about to just continue walking straight up my front lawn, when I turned back and stared at Tate. He was watching me with a slightly amused expression.

"Why?" I questioned. "Why do you think it doesn't matter?"

"Because I got them on video." Tate replied. Confusion filled me. "No one would believe my word against theirs, Calypso. I needed proof. This time I got it." Here Tate pulled out his phone, pressed a couple of buttons and then displayed the screen to me. Indeed, it was a video of the four jocks ganging up on Tate.

I breathed a sigh of relief. So he was going to do something about it. Good.

"You okay?" I let my grip on the anger loosen, and then fade away all together with those two words. Tate nodded. "Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow."

I had faith that when Tate showed the video to the principal, that these bullies would be properly punished. There was no way that anyone could deny what had happened. I went to bed peacefully that night, the knowledge that justice would be served soothing me.

Turns out I was wrong.