Picking Up the Pieces

I was trembling in my skin. What on earth was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? I was mentally having a panic-attack and wouldn’t blame my body if I fainted just to avoid the situation.

“Uh-I-um...Luke...” I said weakly, as my smile had a heart-attack and flat-lined on the spot.

His face dropped and his eager expression dimmed. “If you don’t, then that’s okay...”

“I actually don’t,” I said bluntly, but honestly. “I can’t be sure if I can trust you yet. Every time I do, you end up proving me wrong. So unless you can prove to me that you only l-l-love me, we can’t.”

“Then...let’s start out slow. Friends?”

Where’s the harm in that? “Um...okay,” I muttered.

“Then...how about I take you out...as friends? Not as a date, but an outing.”

I closed my eyes for a split second. “Sure.”

“Great!” The happy tone was back in his voice and he crushed me in a hug. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe, warm, and wanted. It was such an old feeling, buried under all my anger, that the feeling was almost new.

“Yeah,” I mumbled into his shirt. Why was is that he could do this to me? Render me completely senseless? Melt down the barriers I had worked so hard to put up? What’s his deal? He’s like the fire to my ice, the water to my fire.

I didn’t particularly WANT to feel like that, but I still did. And, as awful as it seemed to me, I LIKED it. What was happening to me? I was becoming a sissy! Damn!

I let go abruptly and backed away, making his smile drop. “I’m going to go change,” I said awkwardly. “I need to go out tomorrow.” To a place I hadn’t been to for almost five years.

“Um...okay?” he replied just as awkwardly, scratching his head. I darted around him and grabbed my pajama shorts and shirt, leaping down to the floor and running to the bathroom.

Unlike most girls, I don’t overdo my time in the bathroom, and felt it unnecessary to take an hour for each shower. Hey! That rhymed. I spent like...one second on it.

I quickly shed my clothes and slipped on my pajamas, then hauled myself back up into the room. Luke was already lying in his bed...in his...boxers. That was it. I turned my head so I wouldn’t stare.

“Hey,” he said.

“What?”

“Don’t fall on top of me again.”

I snorted. “It would hurt me more than you. Your stomach is like a rock!” I realized what I said and felt a blush creeping up my cheeks.

He grinned. “You’re right. You’re not heavy enough to hurt me. You’re like...a little pixie.”

The blush brightened into the red of anger. “I swear, one more shot at my size and I will pound your face!” I threatened.

“It probably wouldn’t hurt,” he said, yawning, as though the conversation was boring him. I glared.

“I’m not that small,” I murmured to myself, staring down at my body self-consciously.

“Small is perfect!” Luke replied, grinning wider. “I wouldn’t change you for anything.”

I huffed in irritation. Stupid smooth-talker. I climbed up onto the top bunk and lay back onto the soft mattress as Luke shut off the light, leaving us in darkness, so no one, not even me, could see the soft smile stretching on my lips.

***

I woke up around 6am, as per usual. I usually went out for a run for an hour, came back home, did my business, and then went to school. I always went really early to avoid any perverted stares. But today was Saturday, so I didn’t really need to get up early. Just...habit. And I had an extra place to go to today.

I leaped down from the bunk without using the ladder and landed with a thud onto the floor. Luke stirred and cracked open his eyes a millimeter.

“Where are you going?” he asked in a hoarse voice, rubbing his eyes like a cute little toddler.

I shrugged. “Just a run. Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”

“Alright,” he breathed, letting his hands fall back. I stared at him for a full minute before pulling off my clothes and slipping on my running outfit: spandex capri shorts and a stretchy shirt that ended just above my belly button. “That looks hot,” Luke whispered, still half asleep.

I whipped around, but his eyes were closed, although a small smirk was tugging at the corners of his mouth. I scowled. Still the pervert I knew. But he wouldn’t be the same without it.

I grabbed my iPod and let myself dangle down through the floor, and jumped down, then walked down the stairs. I wrote a note explaining where I had gone, then headed out the front door.

I pushed the earbuds into my ears and pressed play, and started my run.

Whenever I was running, I felt sort of...free. I could run however fast I wanted, and it seemed like I was running away from my problems. I could push myself to my limit and not be pulled back by anything. Cheesy, I know. I’m sorry, I apologize.

I kept running and running until cars started cruising down the streets, sometimes stopping to stare at me. Then it was mostly guys. Some girls, though. Running every day for the past four years had really done good things to my body. The muscles on my stomach and legs were lean, but not bulging, so I was able to run without stopping for an entire marathon (which I’ve done twice) and I could go really fast when I wanted.

After about an hour, I reached a small, secluded, and abandoned park, and I walked over to the only bench to calm my erratic breathing.

I wiped sweat from my face and lay down the length of the bench, my knees bent to fit. I was lying there for about ten minutes when I heard someone’s awkward cough.

“Um...can you scoot over?” a very familiar male voice asked.

My eyes shot open and I rocketed to a sitting position, startling the two guys in front of me. One of them I didn’t recognize, and one I did. A lot. “Bryan?” I croaked. He hadn’t changed. I felt my anger at him dissolving on the spot.

The reason for it? They were holding hands. My eyes widened upon my recent discovery. Bryan stared at me with eyes are surprised as mine. “J-J-Jordan?” he stammered.

Bryan had cheated on me...

To convince himself he wasn’t gay.

I see how THAT turned out.