Outsider

don't slip- 6

TW: mentions of eating disorders and unhealthy behavior, very minor violence

The next morning, I wake up to my alarm and roll out of bed, yanking shorts and a sports bra out of my suitcase. It's 5:15, the sun not even peeking through the trees yet. Every morning in high school, I'd gotten up and ran as much as I thought I deserved. Horribly enough, I'd based it off what I'd eaten the day before, and by my sophomore year, that was pretty much nothing.

It had been unhealthy and awful, but I had an image to maintain, and at that point in my life I would do anything to do it.

So, for old time's sake, despite my fairly good mental state and newfound healthy habits, I find myself slipping out the side door, shoes in my hand and phone tucked into my bra. I slip the shoes on and very briefly think about stretching, and then go.

My route is familiar, left out of the driveway and down to the town center, then up to Cross Point, stopping on the dock behind the old millhouse. The stores are abandoned this early in the morning, the fog still hovering over the town. I run like I have something to make up for, just like my teenage self had done.

"Morning, Sawyer!" A neighbor calls as I turn back into my neighborhood nearly two hours later, legs burning. I wave and slow to a stop in my mother's driveway, sweat dripping down my neck and chest in the Georgia heat.

"Oh, look who's back." My mother's voice pierces through my mind as I enter the kitchen. The entire team is sitting around the island as she prepares breakfast.

"You didn't answer any calls or text, Sawyer. That's irresponsible." She chides as I gulp down a glass of water.

"Sorry, mother. Didn't realize you still needed to keep tabs on me."

"Don't take that tone with me. What if your team needed you?"

"It's seven in the morning."

"We're not having a repeat of your high school years, are we?" My mom had really only had the slightest idea to the extent of my problems, but she'd known enough to force me into therapy that really hadn't done much.

"Christ, Mom." I say, glancing at the team. All of their eyes are on me, but Elle's meet mine and I feel my face burn.

"Well, Sawyer?" I snap my head back to my mom, who stands at the stove with her hands on her hips. I can't believe the audacity she has to bring any of it up in front of my colleagues.

"No, mother, we're not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to shower." I stride out, breathing heavily as I walk up the stairs.

'How dare she?' I mutter as I strip my clothes off, stepping into the freezing water. It cools down my overheated body and I sigh, feeling a wave of dizziness float over my body. 'Don't do this to yourself.' I think, knowing how dangerous and easy this road is to go down. Slips were easy for me, and I often found myself falling into old habits. Marina had kept an eye on me in New York, but I guess it's time to take the responsibility for myself.

"Hey." Morgan says as I come back into the kitchen. He and JJ are the only ones in there, the rest of the team getting ready, I assume.

"Hey." I say, smiling at them.

"I gotta go shower." Morgan excuses himself and I'm left with JJ. Her eyes burn into the back of my head as I stare at the contents of the fridge. My eyes land on the orange juice and I will myself to grab something else, anything else.

"Are you okay?" She asks as my hand lands on the orange juice bottle.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say as the fridge door swings shut.