July 1, 2015.
Dear diary,
When I snuck into the girls locker room to grab my things and head down to the park I was caught by coach Stewart.
I was sent to the principle's office and spoken to about leaving practice without a given reason. My parent's were then called and sat to discuss my grades.
It didn't last long though.
I had to leave and nobody, not even my parents would stop me. I lied, asking to use the bathroom and escaped through the doors, racing down the street as usual.
I didn't have my bag, which meant no diary to write in as the time passed. But it didn't matter, because he was there this time.
He sat on the bench, his hands in his lap. His eyes were fixed on the water and as I rounded the bench I caught the dark spot beneath his left eye.
I sat down and my stomach knotted. I was strangely sick knowing he had been physically hurt and I felt nauseas each time I replayed the memory.
"I'm so sorry," I forced the words out, whispered and quiet.
He stayed silent and I longed to hear his voice. I didn't look at him, however. I couldn't look at him. "I don't have your book right now."
I figured he'd ignore me but instead I was surprised when he said, "Its okay". Simply a response I could've lived without, but one I'd choose not to.
I nervously played with my hands asking, "Are you alright?" I felt terrible for not looking at him, I really did.
"No." he answered quieter this time.
