Jumbled Heartaches

Not Her Business

Thousands of tears and three hours later, I was free.

I couldn't get to my dorm fast enough.

I rushed myself, busting through the door.

Zoe looks up when I walk in.

"You should've beat his ass." She says.

I just sigh, shutting the door, walking over to my bed and falling on top of it, face down.

I don't move, just laying there, silent.

"I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"I get your feelings have been hurt...a lot, but...I mean...some people-"

"Nobody deserves to be bullied, Zoe."

"I'm not saying bully him, Jennifer," she starts, annoyed. "I'm saying defend yourself once in a while. Stop running out crying and start doing something. Fuck Jenny, I've been saying it from the day I met you. Your Mom has been saying it, and your Dad and grandparents. Everyone says it. Defend yourself."

"I don't need to defend myself, I need to be left alone, and-"

"Stop saying that not reacting makes everyone back off. Stop saying they want a reaction out of you. Either way, they're going to pick on you, so fucking stop letting them."

Frustrated, I stand up, changing into a clean pair of sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt, a sports bra under it. I leave my hair down and put on my beat up converse.

"I'm going to the gym."

She scowls at my outfit, muttering something about how I have a good body and I should be using it.

I truthfully don't care.

I walk out of the room.

I make my way to the gym.

Everyone goes here to relieve their anger. I make a point to come here before dinner.

I go to the nearest treadmill and start running.

I start out at a light jog, and once I'm really sweating, I turn it into a full on run.

I work out like a man. 

I run on the treadmill for a half hour to forty five minutes, and then I go lift weights until my arms are weak and limp. I start doing curls and crunches, and then I do two hundred pushups. My entire body burns, but the pain I feel is indescribable. This pain is better than cutting.

I never take a break.

After, I go running outside.

The campus is huge, with a full size gym for people to relieve their anger, and horses for people to take when they need to relax. 

We really do have a lot here, but it never matters to any of us, because we're all depressed.

I run the entire campus, and then I go back to my room at five.

I'm soaked in sweat, but my body feels great.

I take a shower and put on white full butt underwear, sweatpants, and a black hoodie. I roll on deodorant and leave my hair wet and matted.

I shove my feet into black Nike slides to match my black sweats and sweatshirt. 

Zoe looks at me outfit in disgust.

She put her feet in flip flops and goes marching out of the room.

I follow her, locking the door behind me.

"You know Jen, you could at least try not to dress like a homeless person."

"Do I really look homeless?" I ask, insecure.

"Yes."

I pull my hood up, not wanting people to look at me.

"You're beautiful." She adds. "But you don't dress like it. This-" she gestures her hand to my body. "Is why you're single. If you wore skinny jeans, a thong, a pushup bra, and a black tank top, and actually brushed your hair out of that bun you wear to class, or left it down and brushed after showers, you'd have the entire male population crawling all over you. I mean, fuck Jenny, you'd have Ian-fucking-Grant trying to fuck."

I brush her off. She's wrong.

Ian-fucking-Grant is the hottest guy on campus. He's also the rudest. One look in his direction, even if you're looking at someone behind him, and he'll punch you in the face.

Everyone is scared of him, and for good reason. 

I have no idea how many noses I've seen him break.

Nobody knows why he's here but the staff, and maybe Jacob, his best friend, the guy who screamed at that the creep from earlier.

Then again, the only person who knows why I'm here is Zoe. The only person who knows why she's here is me.

Most of us just keep to ourselves.

Still, there's no way Ian Grant would ever look at me with anything but hate in his eyes.

One glance from him in my direction and I flinch.

People clear the halls when he walks, just in case he'll lash out on someone.

The only time I've seen him smile is when he's pissed.

I've never seen a real smile from him.

I feel a sharp jab in the ribs. Zoe's elbow.

I blink, looking at her.

"Are you going to fucking move?" The kid behind me snaps.

I'm in line for food.

Nobody can see my face unless they're directly in front of me because I'm hiding under my clothes. 

I mutter an apology under my breath, scooting down the line with my tray.

I hear the person start bitching to whoever they're with, but I keep my mouth shut.

I get the rest of my meal, following Zoe to the table away from everyone.

I sit with my back to everyone except for her.

"I'm worried about you, Jenny." Zoe says softly, dipping her fry in ketchup, studying me.

I shrug.

She chews slowly, swallows.

"I just want to see you happy."

"Nobody is happy here, Zoe."

"Some are. Some have people that make them happy, but I haven't ever seen a genuine smile on your face."

I sigh, shrugging.

"I'm trying."

That's a lie. I'm not trying to be happy. 

I don't want to be happy. I don't even know what happy is. How can I want something when I don't even know what it feels like?

I wonder what happiness feels like. I can hardly remember.

"No you're not." Zoe says, frustrated. "You're not trying. If you were, you wouldn't wear those fucking clothes. If you were, you wouldn't have dug your fucking nails into your wrist."

"I didn't-" I start to lie, but she grabs my wrist roughly and yanks the sleeve up.

The nasty scars stare back at me, and on top of them are four red half moon shaped marks.

I yank my arm back, shoving my sleeve back down.

"Zoe, stay out of my fucking business! I can handle myself!"

I stand up and take my tray outside, as far from anyone as I can, and I sit down alone on the ground.

My problems are not her business.