Friendship? [H.S.]

Chapter 46

*Song for this chapter:  Beautiful Trauma by Pink*

I counted to ten with my eyes closed to give Jake time to be far enough away he wouldn't hear what I was about to do. I threw my bag across the room. My jaw was so tight by this point, I could feel my teeth grinding and the noise in my head was deafening.

I knew Harry was there, I just wasn't looking at him so it didn't register in my brain that anyone was in the room with me.

I was... angry?

I don't like this feeling.

I looked at my hands as they were balled into fists and for the first time in my life, I wanted to punch something. I could feel my eyes widen as the impulse took over and I looked at the closet door next to me. Without thinking, I swung my fist and connected and immediately felt pain radiate through my hand and up my arm.

"Jana!" Harry jumped off the bed and I looked at him before punching the door again. It hurt so bad, but I couldn't stop myself. "STOP!"

"I don't want to." I went to throw another punch, but his arms hooked around me from behind as he crashed against me. "Harry, stop!"

"What the fuck is wrong?" He gripped my wrist and pulled my hand up to look at it. The pain radiating from my knuckles at least distracted me from the anger and embarrassment I was feeling. "What happened?" He turned me around to face him and I just stared at him. I hate this feeling. His eyes were moving rapidly as he scanned my entire body for any hint of something being wrong. "Did Jake do something to you?"

"NO!" I snapped at him and immediately felt horrible. I shrugged his hands from my upper arms and started pacing. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong. I think..." I let out a frustrated noise and Harry stared at me. He looked absolutely beside himself. "I think I'm mad."

"No shit, babe. Why are you mad?"

I've been mad before, but it rarely lasted more than a few seconds and I never acted on it. This is building. I couldn't help but raise my voice, "I don't know!" My fists balled up again and Harry stepped forward and grabbed my hands, forcing them open and lacing his fingers with mine.

"Take a breath. I don't know what happened but this isn't you, Jana." He pulled me towards the sink. I was struggling to get my brain to settle down. I've never been the best at identifying my emotions and finding what caused it.

He knew that though.

I knew it.

Kate was working with me on that in bits and pieces as well. I remember her telling me to treat myself like I used to treat my students when they would get overwhelmed and throw fits. She pointed out, again, that being denied emotions other than happiness stunts our ability to process things. Even though I can identify them in other people easily (apparently that's a trauma response) I only allow sadness and happiness to filter through.

So maybe I have been angry like this before, but I shut it down. Whatever it is, I really don't like it. The pain in my hand is starting to register again when I feel Harry pull it under the water and I immediately suck in air, practically hissing at him. "Shit!"

"You busted your fucking knuckle open, Jana. I'm cleaning it up." His voice was even, the same level it always was. He was pulling water from his cupped palm and letting it pour over my knuckle. "Have you ever punched anything before?"

"No." I groaned as I flexed my fingers.

"At least nothing is broken. Aside from the closet door." He smirked at me as he turned the water off. My eyes shot over to the door and there really was a crack and hole where I had connected. "Yep. We got a regular Mohammed Ali on our hands, folks."