This Is Me

Not Good Enough

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER GETS INTENSE QUICKLY. BUT IT IS PRODUCTIVE UNLIKE THE LAST FEW, SO DON'T KILL ME. PLEASE.

"Luke, I want to fight you," I say flatly.
"Okayyyyyyy..." he drawls out the word.
"Like, in the cage," I explain, motioning to the fighting octagon.

He smirks.
"I don't hit girls," he dead-pans.
"For one thing, you're my second closest friend, not to mention one of only two of my friends. And, I hate it when people say that. It's okay if you hurt me a little," I shrug.

"I don't want to hurt you."
"Then don't," I challenge. "Just dodge my punches and stuff," I continue.
"You're obviously gonna hurt me!" he exclaims.
"Then defend yourself, and hit me back!" I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. I'm feeling hurt for some unknown reason.

I narrow my eyes at him.
"I knew it," I hiss.
"Knew what?" Luke questions.
"That nobody is ever gonna be a friend close enough to me that is a guy, that'll actually defend himself against me," I growl.

I stomp off, and soon I feel Thalia grab my arm.
"Aaron, you know Luke has to sign the contract, right?" she asks.
"Of course I do," I mutter.

The contract is something that states that a male is allowed to hit a female as long as it is only for sport, and the female and male agree to the fight. Luke would have to agree too, not just me. Of course I know that.

"You can't exactly get mad at him for not wanting to hurt you," she whispers gently.

"That's not what I'm mad about, Thalia! Heck, I'm not even mad! I'm just upset, upset because I know that no guy is ever gonna be a close enough friend to know that I don't care if he physically pains me! As long as he doesn't mentally pain me, it's fine! It's freaking fine! If me and Luke were actually really good friends, he wouldn't be afraid to hit me! He knows it isn't like he means to hurt me because he just wants to hurt me," I spill it out. Thalia gestures for me to continue.

"And I know that nobody will ever be close enough to me to ever do that. I know because I am Aaron Grand, and I'm a tomboy, and everybody knows it. And you know what? Parker doesn't deserve me. He deserves someone that isn't me. I'm not good enough. Because I'm a tomboy, and nobody loves a tomboy. Nobody loves a tomboy except for in movies and in books, Thalia. And guess what? This isn't a movie, and we're not in a book."

I let it all out with a punch to the punching bag next to me. Good thing I still have my wraps on. I feel a tear slide down my cheek, and I angrily wipe it away. I look at Thalia, and she is staring at the punching bag. I punch it again.

And again. And again. Over and over and over.
"Yes! Punch the freaking life out of that punching bag! Let it out! GO, GO, GO!!!" And I do. I punch the freaking life out of that punching bag. She knows me so well.

I kill it. I murder that punching bag. I kill it while I cry quietly. I punch the bag as hard as I can, letting out a scream. I stop, my knuckles aching, and probably bleeding. I rest my head on the punching bag, hitting it lightly with the side of my fist. Then I just let the tears fall.

I glance around us and realize that there's nobody in the gym except for one man who takes the hint and leaves awkwardly. I hear Parker call my name out behind me, so I run to the bathroom.

I hide in a stall, breathing in and out. In and out. I just ran. I ran from a fear. I never do that. I've never done that until now. I've always gone straight up to my fear, and basically said,"Screw you." But this time I ran. Why did I do that?