The Secret Identity Of A Nerd

Chapter 18: Recollections

[His P.O.V.]
After hearing from the teachers that Jenna was not coming back to school for a while, I ran to my car. The bell which signaled the end of the day rang and its sound left my ears ringing. When I first heard of their statement, the first thing that came to mind was the hospital.

My stomach dropped.

I did not want to think about the worst case scenario but considering all the times she had missed school, most of those ended with her staying at the hospital. The thought of it made me insane so I rushed to the school's student parking lot.

After I had gotten in my car and started the engine, for some reason, I stopped and gripped the steering wheel in silence. While I sat I began to think of the past and incidents in which occurred where I was involved. I did not like the course of actions I took or the way I acted for the matter.

I don't know when it started but I began to look back at myself often. Look back at the mistakes I had made and how I caused others harm for my own selfish reasons. I began to look at the flaws I had as an individual and rather than fix them I acted as if I was not the problem.

I didn't know why but everything came crashing down on me especially hard that day. And the fact is, I never really wanted to be the person I was raised to be.

I, Kendall Jensen, was nothing more than your average cliche athlete. I was raised in a well off and loving home with parents who only wanted the best for me.

My mother was a locally renowned pastry chef who owned her own business. She was the best at what she did and never gave up on her dreams to be what she wanted to be.

She would tell me stories of how her parents always disagreed with her dreams and wanted her to be a part of their corporation. They shot her ideas down with worry about the future and financial stability. And with the constant reprimanding and disagreements, she eventually caved in. For years she was miserable working under her parents but was extremely good at what she did. They were pleased with her and announced that she was soon to become the heiress of the company.

One day, she was given the assigment to buy out the lands and stores that were behind payments and associated with their company. She was told to give them a final notice and could not believe her eyes when she saw a certain name on her documents of lists. The words 'Sugar and Sweet' somehow shined before her eyes as she became filled with nostalgia from bittersweet memories of the past.

From years of working with her parents, she gained enough money to buy the shop herself and squealed the moment she held the building's title. Soon after, the line of her own sweets and decorative marvels were created.

Due to her uniquely perfect blends of flavors and the beauty and delicacy in which were revealed in her masterpieces, her popularity grew. The reputation of the shop grew and eventually she began to have food critics from around the world taste her creations.

Along with her stories of triumph she spoke to me of the struggles it took to get her shop where it was. Such as the arguments with her parents that followed the purchasing of 'Sweet and Sugar' and how at one point her family broke off all ties with her.

"My mother and father were very upset with me deciding to do something other than the family business, so they never once gave me money to pay for the shop's bills," She paused before revealing a genuine smile, "and even though it was hard, I never needed it. That's why if you really want something you should go for it but, it cannot be obtained without hard work and dedication."

I smiled knowingly at my recollection of her old but often used phrase and reveled in her past memories.

My mother was the kind of individual who let me do what I wanted and allowed me to learn from my own mistakes. She was the perfect parent who was strict and loving when she need to be. Although it was this way with my mother, it was a very different case with my father.

While my mother was the famous pastry chef, my father was the star athlete who wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. Even when my mother disagreed with him trying to make me train at a young age, he still found a way to do so. He would wait until she would go to work and take me to his training room. He led me to a corner with small weights and made me lift them till my my arms felt like noodles. After weights he would make me do push-ups, crunches, then run around the room so many times I lost count.

I remembered telling him one day when he was training me that I wanted to be like mom. I was fatigued from the things he was making me do and did not want to go through it any longer. Besides, I had enjoyed making things with my mom much more than training with him. But once I told him his face turned red and he yelled so much his veins started popping out. I was afraid but as a child, I had no where to run and stood there trembling in fear.

In a fit of rage, he smacked me so hard I fell over with the world spinning around me. My sweaty skin stuck to the mat on the floor as I lay frozen in place from shock. Once I came to my senses I began to cry which only made my pounding head hurt more. For a moment he stared at me with fear before his face went blank without emotion. He walked out of the training room and all I heard was the slam of a door.

Once the world felt like it had stopped spinning I feebly picked myself up and hid behind the doorway to see if my father was anywhere nearby. The coast was clear and I scurried to my room before locking it's door. Trying to calm my nerves, I wrapped myself in my bed sheets and tried to go to sleep. It was 11 in the morning but due to the amount of stress that my father was putting on my body it did not take long.

I knew my father loved me but I suppose he just became enwrapped with the idea of me becoming like him that he wanted it to happen quickly.

After that incident, my father began distancing himself and minimalized all contact with me. When I would arrive from school conversations with him usually followed the same monotone "how was your day" and "hope your grades are well."

I began to feel distressed and found my way into the training room. As I glanced at the familiar equipment I made myself believe that if I continued training my father might possibly pay attention to me again.

Little by little as I began to train my stamina increased and my muscles began to form and grow. As I became stronger I gained enough confidence to join a sport in my school. But I didn't stop at one. The first sport I joined was football and after that it was basketball. I continued training and playing sports as a way to gather my father's praise which my plan soon led to fruition.

My father began talking to me again and was a lot more animated when he spoke. In the end, I had gotten what I wanted, but in my quest of achieving it I lost my way.

I no longer knew what I wanted in life.

I lost my strive, I lost my motivation, I lost my genuity. Maybe it is too early to think these things since I am a teen but I couldn't tell what direction I wanted to go anymore. I didn't know what interested me or what career path I wanted to stick by for the rest of my life.

But all in all, what I have gone through does not change the fact that I acted the way I did. I disrespected Jenna and I threw my emotions at her without considering how she felt. For all I know, this could be the first time she ever gets involved with someone considering her and wanting her as a future partner. I was being the inconsiderate jerk who wanted her all to himself and without realizing it, I was taking out my inner frustrations on her when she would disagree with me.

Do I even deserve to go visit her. She probably doesn't even want me there with her taking note of the way I have been with her.

I gripped the steering wheel harder in resentment before I realized that I was alone in the parking lot. I looked at the time and more than half an hour passed in my time that I swimming in my memories.

I popped the clutch from park to drive and decided it was best to go home rather to bother Jenna. She needed to heal on her own and I would only get in the way.

Maybe it would be best if I just let her go.