Diego was in that border zone, half way between awake and asleep, rolling around on his bed unable to get comfortable or even stay still; his body restless, sweat lining his forehead because he was too hot, his arms pulling the blankets up tighter around his neck because he was too cold; his heart beating furiously in his chest.

It was a Thursday, the one night of the week Diego got to spend with his mum since she got a second job. It had become their ritual to get pizza for dinner, and they would drive across town to the good pizza place. She had one rule though, there had to be at least one vegetable on it, and he wasn’t allowed to pick it off. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for good pizza. Then they would go to the video store where they would each pick out a movie to watch. Another one of their little rules, she would watch just about anything he picked, but then he had to do the same. Then they would go home with a couple of movies and a bag of snacks and stay up late. That night as he finished a bag of Skittles and started in on a bag of M&M’s she had warned him that he was eating too much sugar, that he should slow down on the sweets before he made himself sick. He didn’t listen and was paying the price.

Morning came and his alarm went off. He reached over to the side table and switched it off. His whole body ached from the fitful sleep; his back was stiff and sore, his arms felt like they each weighed a hundred pounds, his legs were cramped. He wondered if his mum would let him stay home sick from school today, but not likely as this was his own fault. That and the rule was if you were too sick to go to school then you were too sick to play after school, and on a Friday that carried through the whole weekend. He didn’t want to sacrifice his weekend like that.

The covers were pulled up right around him and he could feel how damp his body was with sweat. With great effort he threw the comforter off of himself and noticed it, a heart lying on top of his chest steadily beating away. The sight should have frightened him, should have sent him screaming for help. Instead a calm wave enveloped him, he was not scared. He poked around it, felt his chest to see if his own heart was still beating inside him. He felt nothing, and noticed the arteries and valves disappearing into his chest. The heart, his heart, beat at a steady pace as he poked around; there was no pain, no discomfort. He was going to yell for his mum, surely this was reason enough to stay home, but she had already left for work.

He held it gingerly as he sat up in bed, cupping the red muscle close to his chest. Was there a way to just stick it back in? He didn’t see any way without the help of a doctor. He sat there on the edge of his bed, feet planted on the carpeted floor, wondering what he was going to do now. He resolved to take this one step at a time. He certainly couldn’t walk around holding his heart in his hand so he needed to find something to put it in. He went to the kitchen and began rummaging around in the cupboards. He found the brown paper lunch bags his mum would pack sandwiches in. He opened one and dropped the heart inside. It held it fine, but the beating caused the bag to crinkle which was louder than the heart itself and would draw more attention. He poked around some more and found the cupboard with all the different reusable take-out containers they had saved; round black ones from Chinese food, wide deep ones for soup, he’d be able to find something here. He pulled out different sized containers he thought might work, but had trouble finding the corresponding lids. He found one that sort of matched, enough that he could force the lid closed to protect his heart.

He heard the school bus outside and had to grab his lunch and run to make it in time. He got on and the doors closed behind him. “What’ve you got there?” Mr. Santorini, the bus driver, asked him. “Your mum pack you something special for lunch today?”

“No it’s my heart.”

Mr. Santorini was speechless, unsure if he was joking or not. Diego smiled and walked through the bus to find an empty seat. He found one near the back and sat next to the window to stare at the passing world. He could feel the plastic container vibrating quickly as his heart pounded from the quick sprint. He took deep breaths to calm himself down. He thought the container was quieter than the paper bag but he was sure everyone could still hear him.

The bus stopped to let more people on. “Hey Diego, did you see the game last night? Ronaldo was on fire.” His friend Alex had gotten on. He’d been too busy watching movies with his mum last night he hadn’t watched the game. He actually hadn’t watched a football game in weeks and had been keeping up by looking up stats or watching quick highlight reels online. Just enough to get him by. Somehow early on sports had become their thing, marking and dominating their conversations, dictating their lingo. He didn’t follow along much anymore, but had still wanted to keep up appearances.

“Actually no, I haven’t watched a game in weeks.” He decided to tell him the truth today.

“Two goals in the first half, on fire right out of the gates. Just amazing.” Alex didn’t notice and didn’t miss a beat. He continued on like this for the rest of the ride to school, not once noticing or asking about the plastic container in Diego’s hand. He carried on about football, excited about the World Cup, and making plans for the two of them to play that weekend.

“Actually I’ve already got plans to hang out with my mum, going to see a play.” She had another evening off and she was going to take him to a play that he had wanted to go to. Another thing he wouldn’t have told Alex.

“Did you get in trouble or something, and this is your punishment?”

“No, it was my idea. I love the theatre man.”

Alex was speechless at first and had no response. He switched back to a safe topic and started going on about football some more.

At school he walked through the hall to his locker. People looked at him as he walked by, looked at the awkward way he held this plastic container to his chest. To anyone who slowed down he’d tell them simply; “It’s my heart,” and walk on.

Alex was right behind him. “Do you think coming in was a mistake? Shouldn’t you have stayed home, called your mum, got this sorted out?”

“No, I feel fine. This is fine. Have you seen Sandy today? I didn’t notice her on the bus.” Sandy was the prettiest girl at school. He’d barely had the courage to say two words to her, but today he was feeling different. He went to his locker and dropped off his bag. He placed the container down inside, his arms getting tired from holding it. The pounding vibration echoed in the metal locker creating a tinny reverberation.

“I think she’s been coming in early for theatre practice.”

“Theatre, that’s right. I think I’ll go say hi.” He picked up the container and closed his locker.

“Wait, you’re going to go talk to Sandy? With that thing?” Alex was pointing at the take-out container.

“Why not?”

“Because, well, because-”

He didn’t wait around to hear what excuse he had to say.

Diego opened the large double doors near the cafeteria that lead into the auditorium. The theatre kids were on the stage belting out lines and sword fighting. It was a full dress rehearsal and he couldn’t tell through the costumes where Sandy was. He sat down next to the director and asked how long until they took a break.

“Maybe another ten minutes, then they have to break for class.” He looked over at Diego and noticed the container. “You can’t have food in here.”

“It’s not food, it’s my heart.”

“What is your heart doing in a take-out food container?”

“Well I’m not just going to hold it in my hand all day.”

When the break was called Diego jumped up on the stage and found Sandy dressed in a suit of armor and sheathing her sword.

“Excuse me Sandy, my name’s Diego.”

“Oh hey Diego, of course; we take the same bus in the morning.” He voice echoed out of helmet. “Did you see the rehearsal, what did you think?”

“Sorry I only just got here and missed it. I’m sure it was great though. That’s a really amazing costume.”

“Thanks, I made it myself,” she rapped her hand on the breast plate. “I had a lot of scrap lying around.”

“Anyway, I’ll get right to the point. I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight. Maybe dinner and a nice dessert?” He could feel his heart almost vibrating in the plastic container in his hand. Maybe if he packed some cloth in inside that would dull the thudding echo.

“Yeah that sounds great, we can meet up after school.” She turned to head into the change rooms but came back around to him. “There’s one thing I wanted to ask you. There’s a rumour going around the school about that plastic container in your hand.” He looked down at it and knew what was coming. “I know it probably sounds crazy but I just need to ask. People are saying it has your heart inside it.”

“It does,” there was no use hiding it. “Would you like to see?” He peeled off the lid and she peered inside.

“You know a plastic container like that isn’t very protective,” she said. “But metal, I can make some interesting stuff out of metal.”

He could hear her smile inside the helmet, and the plastic take-out container rattled in his hand. Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump Thump Thump Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumthumthump.