We stayed in Pittsburgh for the whole weekend, but it was all just a blur to me. I was on an extra high dosage of antidepressants, for obvious reasons, and I was practically bouncing off the walls, unable to contain my energy.
What I do remember though, is that on Monday morning, I barged into the office with a whole list of incidents to report, not just from the bus, but from the competition too.
——
I sat in the bleachers with my friends and C's mom, watching color guard shows. My ex sat in the row in front of me. I wasn't sure why they were sitting so close, but I just shrugged it off.
"Oh my gosh guys! My daughter Sarah's in this guard!" I joked in my best Linda Belcher, white Jersey mom voice as the announcer introduced the next group. "This is her very first season and I'm so proud of her!"
Everyone giggled, but as the music began, we fell silent and focused on the performance.
"Yass Sarah!" I cheered, quietly enough for only the people around me to hear, as a girl caught her solo toss and the crowd erupted in applause. My friends laughed again, but kept their attention on the flags in front of us.
As the show ended and the next guard prepared for their performance, I turned to face my teammates.
"Wasn't Sarah just great? Oh, look! My other daughter Jessica's in this guard! Guys, I'm so excited to watch Jessica's show!" This got a laugh out of everyone, including C's mom.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my foot and whipped around to see what was wrong.
My ex sat in the row in front of me, pinching right between the two straps of my flip flop.
"Ow!" I shrieked, pulling both feet away from them in a panic. "Why would you do that?!"
"You're being really rude," they told me before turning back around to face forward.
I sat in shock as S leaned forward and scolded my ex, "We don't put our hands on people!"
As the next performance began, I sat silently, rubbing away the pain in my foot.
——
Back at our hotel, S and I were heading downstairs to the lobby with our friend MS. Patting my pocket to ensure our room card was there, I shut the door firmly and headed down the hall.
"Guys, the elevator's here," MS called from down the hall and I sped up, but as I passed the last room before the elevators, my ex's, I paused.
My therapist and my mom had both told me to keep quiet, and never confront my ex as to not give them the attention they wanted. The assistant principals I talked to every week told me not to discuss the situation for fear of making it worse. Our coach, A, refused to even acknowledge it was happening. I felt silenced, gagged, and all the emotions were building up too much.
"Lizzie c'mon. What're you doing?" S asked me.
I looked at her and then back at the door. Quickly, I raised a hand, rapped on the door three times, and then sprinted for the elevator, pulling S in behind me.
I heard the click of their room door opening and a "Hello?" just before the elevator doors shut.
S gave me a disapproving look.
"Seriously?" she asked.
I giggled, thinking that would be the last of my rebellion, but boy was I wrong!
The extra dose of medication turned me into a force of chaos, and the high of acting out wasn't helping. Before I knew it, I was knocking on every single one of my teammates' doors every time I walked down the hallway.
——
"I'm gonna take a shower," I announced, as S and I shut our room door behind us after hanging out at the pool.
"I was gonna shower," she replied.
The two of us stopped dead in our tracks and stared at each other for a moment. At the same time, we both dropped our things and sprinted for the bathroom.
Scrambling into the shower, we pushed and shoved, and screamed, and wrestled, until S turned the water on.
"Ok! Ok! You win!" I shrieked, stumbling out of the bathroom, wet and in a fit of giggles. "I have to pee now though!"
"Go use someone else's bathroom!" She told me.
"Alright, whatever." I grabbed the room key and headed down the hall to knock on MS's door.
"Hey, can I use your bathroom? S stole mine like an asshole," I asked her when she opened the door.
"Um, D's in our shower right now," she explained.
"Damn," I sighed just before a click sounded behind me.
I turned around to see C and my ex standing in their doorway.
"Hey, stop knocking on our door," C scolded me.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't knocked on any doors," I explained, exaggeratedly feigning ignorance, before asking, without thinking, "can I use your bathroom?"
"Sure," she replied and both her and my ex moved out of the way to let me through.
"Thanks," I said and ran into their room.
Barely a second after I'd sat down on the toilet, I heard their room door shut, and realization hit me. I was in my ex's room... without an adult to supervise.
As quickly as possible, I washed my hands and ran out of the room, not even bothering to make eye contact with anyone as I screamed "bye!"
Out in the hall I breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing had happened.
YOU ARE READING
Look What You Made Me Do
Non-Fiction"Don't tell anybody about this." "If you just ignore it, it'll stop." "There's nothing I can do to help you." And so I did everything I was told. I shut up. I put on a brave face. I followed all the rules. But that was the past and it's not who I am...
