The Good GirlMature

The little naïve me thought it would be ok after that. I hopped things would go back to the way they were. Far from it.

He wove a story of how he only wanted to fuck me so he could say he fucked a sophomore before it became illegal and he turned 18. He made it sound as though he didn’t care about me. It hurt, but I dismissed it as letting off some of the pain I had caused by rejecting him. Our conversation continued on into the night, getting harsher, and the edge on it only getting clearer. I stopped texting him that night, and hopped sitting with it a bit would ease the tension.

The next day was a race day.

I sat down on the bus near my friend Ghila. Ghila was amazing. He could make any awkward situation funny, and he never put someone down to do it. He was talented in that sense, friends with everyone; he was like the heart of the team. Unfortunely he was also friends with Sam. Sam sat down near Ghila, and they started talking. But I was talking to Ghila first. So the conversation came to include all three of us. I tried to laugh, I tried to be funny, and I tried to pretend there was nothing wrong. No one could hide the edge; the tension was clear as day.

Sam kept making rude remarks. He kept putting down women and calling me names. He did all of this subtly, so I couldn’t openly come down on him and tell him how immature he was. I sat in my seat, back now turned, fuming.

The bus arrived at our race, and I flew down the stairs, anxious to get away from them and seek support from actually decent people. From the bottom of the hill I heard him say to Ghila, “Wow, she is such a bitch. She has an ugly face, but a HELLA fine ass. I wanna fuck her.”

And just like that, I was sobbing in a bathroom.

Forget all the fun times we’d had. Forget we’d had connections. Ignore the conversations we’d had at two in the morning and all the times we’d laughed together. I had come out of my shell for this guy. I’d broken up with a guy I’d been dreaming of, for an opportunity to have Sam. I’d put aside my judgments and given all I had, only for it all to be tossed away. I was just a vagina, a nice ass he’d love to shove his dick in. And here I thought we were so open and relaxed with eachother. Now I wanted nothing to do with him.

I avoided him all through stretches. I glared at him whenever he looked at me.  I felt so helpless; I wanted to scream at him. Anything I’d do he’d mock me, any sort of lecture I had would be tossed aside ignored. HE was Sam; he never let anything get to him. Especially not a girl like me. He had nothing to say to me.

And so the gun fired and the race started, my mind on fire. My feet pounded the ground and my mind raged. The pain I felt only deepened my fury.  I thought about using the anger to push off the ground harder, take a burst of speed. But I remembered he was the captain of the team, and I would not win for him. In fact, I would not run for him. I stopped running in the middle of the race because I was so upset.

But my heart knew I loved to run, and I couldn’t deprive myself of that passion, that glory. And so I kept running, but it wasn’t for him, it was for me.

I neared the finish line and I saw him, walking towards me, that easy smile on his face I used to never get out of my head. Anger roared. The last time I had seen him there he had said something like, “Hey, nice ass!”

I got closer to him. It was a narrow path, and it took all the will power I had in me not to turn around and never see him again. I kept running. Sam or no Sam, I was finishing that race, I was going to stay strong and not let anything bring me off course. Even him.

It was the final sprint, and I had almost reached him. He opened his mouth to say something, and I didn’t want to hear it.

I opened my mouth and poured out all that I felt in two words.

“FUCK YOU!” I had never said anything so strong in my life. I watched as pure emotion writhing out of control came out in a voice so loud it shocked me, and I watched as it hit him with a physical force. I saw it hit his face like a satisfying blow. I saw a pain in his eyes like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I felt a burst of light, and I flew past him, faster than I had ever run before, so happy to be rid of this burden. I wanted him to know. I wanted him to realize I was not powerless, and I would not let him win.

I pushed past the finish line, and my burst of light disappeared.

I chocked up. I started sobbing.

It was as if something had swallowed my heart, my soul. I couldn’t stop. Tears pours from my eyes, and sobs were forced out through gasps, I felt as if I had the wind knocked out of me.

Chrystal, the most grounded, beautiful, true to herself runner on the team put her arm around me, and we walked through the trees. The world was a blur as out poured my feelings.

I had hurt him, he had hurt me. The trees breathed, and the world relaxed. It was here I realized my idealistic crush was not so perfect. I stopped seeing only the good, and saw him for what he was. He, like the rest of us, had a bad side. I felt my heart sink at this realization, because I wanted to believe in perfection. He was my idol and I wanted to believe he was everything I was, and more. I had been dragged back to reality when finding out my idol wasn’t perfect. But i found that strangely relaxing. Even the best of people aren't perfect, and for the first time i felt i was seeing him. The real Sam, and I saw all of him in a way no one else could. I was able to see all the good in him, i was able to shut out the bad. I was able to see him as bad, and I felt closer to him that before. It was here i realized those glances, smiles, the touch of his arm and the way he'd ask if i wanted a ride, meant something to me. I suppose putting it all on the line makes one realize what they have, or don't have.

It was here, in my raging fury I became a victom of love.

The End

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