Eight

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  • Dedicated to Goodbye, Rebel Blue (pie math)
                                    

"Why - why did you do that?" His voice was so calm and gentle and his face was so warm and forgiving that I felt like crying. I just can't do anything right anymore so I crossed my arms and hated that he could probably see my pool of regret too.

I was going to answer with something complex, but I think that if I did, my heart would give out so I settled on a, "Because I was angry." 

Foster stood a few feet away, leaned up against the side of the building and I was thankful for that, that he couldn't look into my eyes. 

"Well, why were you angry?"

"Because I was."

He sighed and ruffled his hair and smiled so lightly, but that was enough to make my heart pound, "But there's always something under the anger, the anger is the crust." 

He said that and something about it made sense and I knew exactly what was under the anger and I wished I knew what was under his anger, but he was harder to read than I was. Because my bones showed, and I guess so did my thoughts. 

"I don't know," I lied and flicked my eyes to ground. 

"Yes you do, Darla, what's under the anger?" 

"I. don't. know!" I say firmly and feel like walking away and going to tell the teacher or principal or whoever I seem to run into that I couldn't find him.

"Darla," He said exasperated and although the sun was shining, I felt like a block of ice standing there in 90 degree weather that simply could not melt. 

Sometime within the next ten seconds, I crumbled and wanted so badly to tell Foster my secrets, but not just him, I wanted to tell everyone because these secrets were piling up so frequently that it scared me. And then if I told him mine, he could tell me his so I said, "Anorexia," and shrugged my shoulders, hoping that he didn't really catch that and it would blow away like everything else. But a part of me wanted someone to hear it. The screaming. And I wanted him to make it stop, but he couldn't. Because no one can. Because I won't let them.


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