Trent awoke Saturday morning, to go on his morning run, at 5am. His stomach ached and he felt exhausted, but, he'd lasted for longer on less, so, he threw on some running shoes, grabbed his iPod, and left the house, leaving a back window open.
He played the first song he had, and of course, it sucked. He had to actually search to find the music he really liked. The rest of it was a show. And he let a few people know that. But not anyone who could damage him in the long run. He knew that. Many people would call him calculated, and clever, and they wouldn't be wrong.
Everything he did, he did on purpose. He never did anything he didn't want to. He was never surprised, and he never messed up. Only one thing he had ever done didn't make sense. And he remembered that moment vividly.
The teacher had just told them to reveal their deepest secret. He was deciding what to go with, because he had a lot of secrets, and she would never really know all of them. He decided to go with the fact that he had never had a real friend. He knew that cold, hard, fact. And it was pretty bad. But then she told him something he knew she told no one else. So, it came out before he even realized it. And, before he did, it was too late, and the least he could do was play it off as something he meant to say.
Thinking about it now, no body knew that. He didn't even want to admit it. Just one more difference between himself and the entire football team. He didn't even know why he cared about the football team. They were all self-absorbed douche bags. Trent knew that. Most of the kids at school knew that. But, then again, they all thought he was a self-absorbed douche bag, and he was definitely far from that. He knew that the football kids didn't really like him. That much was obvious. No kid really liked him. Sure, he was lonely, but he played it off. He knew that, if the time arose that he really needed a friend, he'd be painfully alone.
He didn't make himself particularly likable, but, again, he played it off. He tried to make sure that whomever he had hurt, knew that he didn't mean it. Whether they got it or not, was up to them.
He ran faster, trying to use the physical strain to distract his mind, but, of course, his thoughts came back to him.
'You're an idiot,' He thought, 'You told that girl the truth. The truth that you won't even admit to yourself. You betrayed yourself in the worst way possible.'
He believed that opening himself up, was weakening him. The more people knew, the more they could use against him, and the more they could hurt him. Of course, his reasons for blocking everyone out are selfish. Humans are naturally selfish people, and he embraced that. But that didn't help him like himself anymore.
Before the thoughts could go that far, he collapsed on his hands and knees. He could hardly breathe. He knew he had pushed himself too hard, but he didn't care. He needed this run. Just as he also needed his work out later.
He concentrated on breathing now. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Once his breath was finally under control, he stood, and, once again, began to run. Not nearly as fast as before. He didn't want to pass out somewhere. Now that he looked around, he didn't actually know where he was. He decided it was time to turn around when his iPod read 9am. He walked back home. Mainly because he had to keep checking the GPS on his iPod, to make sure he didn't pass his turn. He got home around noon, and his parents had already left for work. They left him food in the microwave, and, as always, he threw it to the dog. He used to throw it behind the shed, but then they got rats, so that had to stop.
"I'm home." He called out, but, no one answered.
His brother left him a note on the fridge, telling him he'd be back at two, and that he'd be forcing him to eat. Aidan always said that, but he was never really home until seven, and he would never bring it up in front of their parents. He decided to shower, because he felt extremely filthy.
He stripped down, and looked at himself. His cheeks had hollowed out, and his ribs were beginning to show. But he was still too fat. He could still find fat on his body. Albeit, the majority of it was muscle, from football, but, it didn't look it. So, he kept working out. He kept running. He kept working out. His skin had also paled significantly, and his hair was thinning. Nobody knew that. Aidan noticed his cheeks and skin, but not the hair.
He stayed in the shower, until the water got too cold, and he had to get out. He scrubbed the water out of his hair, and wrapped the towel around his waist. He heard a rustle in his room, and he tensed up.
He opened the door swiftly, and saw a girl he hung around with at school.
"Allison?"
"Hey." She said, seductively. Instantly, the hairs on the back of Trent's neck raised.
"What do you want?" He asked, grabbing the top of the towel.
"You, of course." She took a step towards him, and he stood, frozen.
"Well, let me get dressed and we can talk." His voice shook, so he forced himself to calm down.
"There's no need for that." She said, stepping closer.
"Yeah, there is." He said, trying to step to the side.
"No." She said, putting a hand on his chest. He was almost positive she could hear his heartbeat thumping wildly. But it was not at all for the reason she thought. She thought it was nervousness. He knew, it was complete and utter fear.
"Allison, we shouldn't--" She cut him off, by pressing her lips to his. He shot back, his back hitting the wall.
She tried again, to kiss him, but once her lips touched his, he stepped quickly to the side. She slapped him, twice.
"What the--" Again, she cut him off by kissing him.
He jumped back, again, "Stop it, Allis-" This time, she forced him into a corner, and kissed him with such force, he couldn't move. Then, she began to touch him.
He pushed her away from him.
"Leave." He said.
"You know you want it." She said, edging closer, but he moved away from her again.
"If you don't leave, I'll make you." He regained his usual confidence, or at least, he pretended she did.
But she was having none of it.
Before he could register what she was doing, she was touching him again, and attempting to turn him on.
He pushed her away, harder. He carried her, kicking and screaming, down the stairs, and set her on the porch. She tried one last time, to get to him, but he slammed and locked the door in her face.
"You'll regret this, Trenton Merrick!" She shouted, and stormed off.
He ran up to his room, and for the first time in 10 years, he cried.
