Some Day

2: Emo Matt

Chapter Two

I unlock the two locks on the front door, and walk in.

The house is quiet as I walk past the empty living room. I'm not surprised that Matt isn't here. He has a job with long hours, and even when he's not working, he's at the gym. I've been here for a little over a week, and I've only seen him in the mornings and then right before I go to bed.

I rush up the stairs before going into my bedroom and tossing my backpack on the ground. For a few moments I just stand there, debating what to do.

I glance at the framed photo on my nightstand, and feel a surge of anger and sadness. Slowly, I walk over to it, before picking it up and gazing at the photo.

It's a picture of me and my mom, and my heart aches as I look at it. I miss her everyday.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I set the picture back down on the nightstand, and decide to go to the gym. I change out of my jeans and into some workout clothes, putting on my shoes before grabbing my keys and walking out the door.

The gym isn't far from Matt's house, and I'm grateful. I have so much pent-up energy from being Liliana Jones, and I just need time to get away for a little bit. When I workout, I can be myself again.

I park in the gym's lot and quickly get out, eager to start. Matt put me on his gym membership card, and I'm extremely grateful to him for that and so much more.

After signing in, I make my way into the main room, which is full of treadmills, bikes, pull-up bars, and other equipment. There's only a couple other people in here: one middle-aged woman and some guy who literally looks like he's on steroids.

I find a treadmill on the side of the room opposite of them, and throw my hair up into a ponytail. I stretch out my legs, taking my time.

I used to hate working out more than anything. But after everything that's happened, it's my escape.

Once I feel like I've stretched enough, I get on the treadmill and start on a slow setting.

I spend the next twenty minutes slowly building up speed, and then alternating between jogging and running.

It feels almost surreal as I run, and I feel like I'm nowhere yet everywhere at the same time. My mind is free of thoughts and worries as I run, and I'm only focused on running.

About an hour later, I'm doing pull-ups when a familiar face greets me.

"Don't take it too hard, Rose," Matt says, looking up at me as he approaches.

I pull my chin over the bar. "I'm fine," I grunt out.

"Really? Your stomach doesn't hurt at all?" He raises a brow, crossing his arms.

I groan as I let go of the bar and drop down to the ground, landing roughly on my feet. "Not at all. Please don't be annoying about it, I swear I'm fine."

He laughs, and I glare at him. His black hair is slicked back, and he's wearing black gym shorts and a black hoodie.

"You look emo today," I tell him.

"Oh yeah, you know me," he retorts jokingly. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know, what time is it?" I ask.

"A little past five," he replies. I don't say anything. "Rose? How long have you been here?"

"Only like an hour and a half," I mutter.

His eyes widen. "Jesus, are you really trying to destroy your body?"

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are. You're not even close to being healed, you can't just exert yourself like this," he lectures, and I bite my tongue. "Especially with pull-ups, you're going to reopen your wound."