Enter: The Traitor
That Monday I didn’t stick around my locker like I usually did to talk to Saul. In fact, I’d been avoiding him like the plague. What was I supposed to tell him?
‘I’m sorry I kissed a girl you had sex with a while back and may still have feelings for’
There should be a handbook for stuff like this.
‘What to do when you stab your best friend in the back: Now with bonus first aid materials for when he beats you within an inch of your life!’
Now there’s a book that would sell. But, you can’t run forever. Next class was gym, with Saul, and wouldn’t you know we were playing dodge ball again? The gods must hate me. Or karma’s pimpslapping me for macking with my boy’s girl.
I barely had time to change into my uniform before he chucked a red rubber ball full speed at my head. Only my elite ninja reflexes let me dodge it at the last second. Granted, I still fell on my butt in front of all the cute girls who pointed and laughed as they sat on the bleachers.
I swear, when it’s gym class, it’s like every girl has their periods at the same time. I think it’s just an excuse to keep from doing any actual work.
Anyways, back to my best friend trying to end my life with aerial red rubber death (which incidentally would make a great name for a punk band).
I took a wicked hit to the sternum that knocked the breath out of me and then, as must happen in all comedies, he managed to perfectly hit my junk. I went down like a sack of potatoes and curled up in a ball.
As he stood over me, prepared to seal my fate with a well placed shot to my skull, I said, “Wait, bro, I’m sorry!”
“Sorry? I was sorry when I lost that Avril Lavigne CD of yours. Sorry’s not gonna cut it.”
“She’s not even your girl! You’re dating Courtnee! Why are you getting so upset?”
“Don’t bring her into this! Don’t you dare bring her into this! This is about you and Eve!”
There was a collective gasp from the bleacher, the girls undoubtedly assuming far more than what actually happened. You know, I could’ve sworn there was an actual class going on right now.
“Why do you care what I do with Eve?”
“Because I, she, you, Argh!”
Saul threw the ball he was holding so hard I swear it broke part of the wooden bleacher. Then he stormed off in a huff. Somehow I got the feeling I wouldn’t be hearing from him for a while.
How could he. After all I’ve done for him. We’ve been friends for years now and he stabs me in the back like this.
You know what though, maybe he had a point. Technically, I’m with Courtnee now. Me, in an exclusive relationship. I can’t do anything with Eve, even if I wanted to.
Oh who am I kidding. Of course I want her. I want her now more than I ever wanted her before.
But I just spent the night with Courtnee, and it was great! I mean, we didn’t actually do anything except cuddle, but cuddling’s nice too, right? I even told her I love her.
Course, I told Eve that first.
Actually, I think Eve’s the first girl I’ve ever told that to.
Do I love her?
Of course not. I love Courtnee. I’m with Courtnee. I’m dating Courtnee and only Courtnee. I’m respecting her boundaries and trying to create a lasting and deep relationship with her.
And I haven’t had sex in almost a month now.
I’m going insane.
In times like this, when I’m angry or frustrated, only one thing helps. Time to hit the gym.
When you work at a gym, you feel great. Everyone looks up to you, admires your body, and looks to you for guidance and support. It makes you feel special, needed even. You just can’t get that at most jobs these days.
One of the girls I train, Audrey I think her name is, was standing by a vending machine. She looked pretty upset.
“The stupid machine ate my dollar.”
“That’s easily fixed,” I said, putting another dollar in the machine, “What did you want?”
“Just a Vitamin water please. Thanks so much Saul.”
“Its no problem. Read for a good workout today?”
“I need it. Been one of those weeks, you know?”
“Trust me, I know.”
We made our way over to the weight machines. One thing most people don’t realize is that the main job of a personal trainer is not to show you what to do to lose weight. Rather, its our job to push you past where you’d normally give up. Research shows you burn the most fat and build the most muscle on the last few reps, the really hard ones that you feel for days after.
As Audrey and I started doing our stretches, I thought about everything I knew about this girl. Audrey had been coming to this gym for a few months now, only recently getting a personal trainer.
Audrey was 17, and she went to a different highschool than I did. She had cropped brown hair and deep brown eyes, with a killer body. I don’t know why she needs a personal trainer when she can already do more crunches than I can.
Her parents had split recently, but she didn’t seem too concerned. She’d told me they’d been rough for years, so maybe a divorce was a blessing in disguise.
“So what are we focusing on today? Upper body? Core? Legs? All of the above?”
She was a nice girl, and I was pretty sure I’d caught her staring at me a few times, but I was with Courtnee.
I had two appointments today with trainees, one right after another, back to back, so I wanted to get started right away.
“We’ll start with the legs, and work our way up.”
Audrey just smiled and walked over to one of the stationary bikes.
Now that I think about it, she is pretty cute.
What am I thinking? I have to get my head back in the game. Courtnee. Remember her? Great girl, dating you, killer body, great connection, even greater boobs?
God I need a drink.
Monday the school was all a buzz with a rather sizzling rumor. They said that Will and Eve had spent the whole weekend together with only a box of pizza, a roll of duct tape and a lot of whipped cream. When I heard about it, my chest began to hurt. Don’t ask me why.
Most of the bruises and cuts from the weekend were gone, and the rest I took care of with a little makeup. I ran into Courtnee on the way to class and she just ignored me. That was weird. She just kinda looked at me then looked the other way.
“Courtnee, wait up!” I yelled, but she kept walking, even a little bit faster as she went around the corner. I would’ve followed her but I was late as it is.
Funny, I used to never worry about being late to Civics. Or any class for that matter.
Anyways, Civics was a bore. The old geezer started rambling about some wall in Germany and Commies and stuff and the class started talking like we always do.
I turned around to say hi to Will, maybe ask about his ‘infamous weekend’. It was then that I noticed the large red mark on the side of his face
“Oo, babe, what happened to you?”
Babe? When did I start calling Will ‘babe’?
“Oh, nothing, just dodge ball,” he stammered out, looking surprised that I was talking to him.
“That looks like it must have hurt”
Without knowing why, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. I felt myself blush, and then I quickly spun around in my seat so he wouldn’t see me turning red.
Why the hell did I just kiss him? What’s wrong with me?
I spent the rest of class staring at the board or my book, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with Will’s beautiful, blue eyes.
What am I saying?
Anyways, when class was over I decided to ask him to his face.
“Is it true what they’re saying about you and Eve?”
“Wait, what are they saying?”
“That you… spent the night together.”
Might as well not mention the rest.
“No, that didn’t happen.”
I let out an involuntary sigh of relief as I said, “Oh, good.”
“Yeah, um, I mean, I wouldn’t want to be spreading any false rumors or anything.”
Smooth. Real smooth Emmy.
“So anyways, my dad’s not gonna be home this weekend so I thought I’d have a little party. Are you busy Saturday night?”
Please say you can go!
“I don’t think I have any plans.”
“Great, see you at eight!”
He started to say, “Are we gonna talk about-“ but I walked away before he could bring back the memories…
I’ve been acting very strange lately, mostly when I’m around him.
Anyways, looks like I have a party to plan. I’d better invite Will’s friend Saul too, so it doesn’t look like I just wanna be with Will. Now, why would I say a thing like that?
The (ex) Boyfriend:
I’d never seen that much blood before. I stood there frozen, just watching the blood drip into the sink. I probably should’ve called 911, but I couldn’t move.
There was just so much blood.
Eventually, I called an ambulance, but by then there was nothing they could do. I didn’t really say much to the medics, and they didn’t ask me anything. I think they knew I needed some time to recover.
My mom just killed herself.
Don’t get me wrong, I always thought it’d come down to this one day. I just, I dunno, I guess I just didn’t think I’d be there to see it.
Not like this.
I remembered all the times I caught her staring at knives, longingly. I remember one time I actually had to pull one out of her hands. But I didn’t think she was serious this time. How wrong I was.
My mother was a whore.
But she was my mother.
She was a drugged up psychotic b@#$% of a woman who treated me worse than a dog.
But she was my mother.
I hated her guts.
But she was my mother.
I wished she’d die.
But, she was my Mom.
You’re not supposed to see something like that happen to your mother. You’re not supposed to see her do that to herself. It’s just not right.
I spent the next few days in a numb state, too empty to be angry, too frozen to be sad. I didn’t bother with school, but for once I don’t think they cared. They knew. Everyone knew. Word gets around fast in this town.
Random people started coming up to me and telling me that my mother was a good person and they were sorry for my loss.
I wanted to strangle all of them.
There were flowers in the mail, too many to count much less keep.
Funny thing is, she always hated flowers.
The question is, now what?
Without my mother to abuse me, to hold me back, I can do anything. Anything I want.
So why do I want to do nothing?
All I want to do is lie in bed all day, staring at my ceiling.
I tried calling Emmy, just to have someone to talk to, but it went to voicemail. Whether she was legitimately busy or just ignoring me, I didn’t know. I didn’t care.
I dialed the first few digits of Courtnee’s number before realizing that she probably wouldn’t want to talk to me either. I had been a jerk to her, after all.
After a few days of lolling around the house, I had to talk to someone. I decided to go to the gym. Maybe I could talk to someone there. No one there really knows much about me. Maybe they’d listen.