Rare - Cazzie

Chapter 24: "Moving on."

TW: homophobic slurs/

Izzie's POV

The past few months have been awful, turns out the catholic boarding school was worse than I thought. And I thought Clayton was bad. Shit, Clayton. I haven't kept in contact with any of my old friends, if they even were my friends. That last last time I had seen any of them, was that dreadful day. After that I had went home immediately, and told my mom that I didn't mind going to St. John's. She had been overjoyed, and didn't even notice the tear marks all over my face, or maybe she did and just didn't care.

My new track team are a bunch of bitches, and I haven't found a single decent person here. I've seen blatant homophobia and discrimination, in this place after only a small amount of time here. So I doubted opening up to these bitches will do anything, but open me up to being targeted by the popular students.

I still haven't healed fully from her. I know I showed a strong front, the last time I had seen her. But that didn't stop the tears, that inevitably hit my pillow each night. It's like my entire being is yearning for her, calling out to her, mourning her presence. Though I denied it every time she came knocking. Which was often. I didn't even go to the door, I never did, it would be too painful.

I figured the best thing was a break. Whether it's pertinent, I'm not so sure, but the lies where overbearing. I couldn't trust her anymore. And so now I'm here, trying to glue myself back together, in this shit school. Full of shit people. Trying to pretend that there is no void in my chest, nor lump in my throat.

"Hey Izzie, come sit with us." Becky, a girl from my classes calls to me, as I come over from the lunch line. Remember when I said there wasn't any decent people, yeah I still mean it. Becky is a bitch, and so are her friends. But the fake smile on my face, as I walk over to her table, gives nothing away.

"Hi guys." I say with no real emotion, as I sit next to Hana or something.

The is a general murmur of greetings, as I begin to play with the food on my plate. A habit I had picked up recently, playing with my food, rather than eating it. I realised I was losing weight, after the first few weeks, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

"Oh my God, so you guys gotta come to this party on Saturday." A girl I think named Chloe, said with excitement.

The girls agree with just as much excitement, and I hold back rolling my eyes. Who gets that excited over a party.

"Iz, you coming." Becky tapped on my shoulder, which I flinched involuntarily from. She laughed at this, and raised an eyebrow expectantly, which I only now realised her question.

"I'm not sure... I've got track." I shrugged, since I had been throwing myself into practice more than usual.

"Oh come on... you've been all track track track ever since you joined here." Becky laughed, shoving my shoulder, and this time I resisted flinching; even though it hurt a bit. "Take a break girl, you deserve it."

"Okay." I breathed with reluctance, feeling a familiar headache begin to form, at her high pitched screech. I hate these girls.

"I'm so excited." Chloe said and I kind of tuned out, as I nibbled on the overcooked little slab of steak on my plate. I decided that I would rather be sick than carry on eating it, so I opted for sipping on my orange juice.