“What are you doing? Where are you going?”
“You’re not the only one with a temper, Jack. Just because I don’t go around putting my fist in people’s faces doesn’t mean I don’t lose my shit!”
“Running away isn’t really showing you have a temper. It just shows you have…” he paused, “legs.”
I laced up my gym shoes. “Just leave me alone.”
“See? Legs for running away instead of staying here and talking it out!” he yelled, his voice frustrated.
“I can’t think clearly when I’m around you. I need to be away from you.” His eyes. His face. They all distracted me from my internal thoughts.
I slammed the door and walked down the stairs to our gym, thankful it was empty. I turned on a treadmill before plugging into my iPod. The music of Imagine Dragons blasted in my ears as I started running faster and faster, all the frustration from the last few months pouring out in beads of sweat across my forehead. Wishing I could stomp out all the blog posts, newspaper articles, gossip columns, message board threads, and Chrystle from my memory with each step, I slammed my feet against the moving surface.
After an hour of running on pure adrenaline, nothing changed. I didn’t feel better, relieved, or calmed. The same pressures and hurt remained. I realized this was something I could no longer ignore.
I wasn’t happy.
The past four months had helped dissolve my strength into a puddle of self-doubt and misery. Being with Jack meant accepting all the other things that came with it, and I hated it. My head pounded as I walked back into our apartment. Ignoring Jack, I moved past him and into the shower. He tried to follow me, but I closed and locked the door. I took my time, hoping the hot water would wash away my doubts, but nothing helped. Afterward, I towel dried my hair before emerging with another towel wrapped around my body.
Jack sat on our bed, watching my every move as I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top.
“I didn’t sign up for this, Jack.” I snapped my eyes shut, willing the online pictures and tabloid article to disappear from my mind.
“You didn’t sign up for what exactly?” he asked cautiously, his head tilting to one side.
I sighed. “I didn’t sign up for this life. This constant invasion of privacy… this scrutiny. This judgment. People get to say and write whatever they want about me, and I just have to sit here and take it. I can’t deal with it anymore.”
The tears started to fall, and I didn’t bother to stop them. “Did you know that my pictures are plastered all over websites where people get to vote on whether or not they think I’m hot enough for you?” I screamed through my frustration.
Logically I knew it wasn’t Jack’s fault, but my embarrassment overruled all logic at the moment. “Do you know how horrible that feels? To be judged on my looks by a bunch of fucking strangers? Heaven forbid I’m actually a good person who loves her boyfriend and works hard and treats people well. But that doesn’t count. None of that matters!”
I threw my hands out, shaking my head. “It’s all about what I wear and how my hair looks and how much weight I need to lose. Why do people think it’s OK to tear apart the way I look? Did you know there’s an entire thread on the baseball website dedicated to hating me? Not liking me, but hating me. What the hell did I even do to anyone?”
“What? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked. “I’ll have administration get that shit taken down right now! I will not have any threads about you on a baseball website. Unless it’s good stuff.” He forced a small smile, his dimples barely showing.
“I’ve been called every name in the book. Whore, slut, gold digger, ugly, fat, bitch, cunt, tramp, cleat chaser… and I can’t fucking take it, Jack. I don’t know how anyone does.”
“What are you saying, Kitten?” He took two steps toward me, and I instinctively stepped back.
“I don’t know what I’m saying.” My heart battered against my chest as I denied the truth. I knew exactly what I was saying… I just apparently couldn’t form the actual words.
He started nervously pacing. In all honesty, my nerves even overwhelmed me in that moment. “Don’t do anything stupid, Cass. You know we’re no good without each other.”
I nodded my head as more tears escaped. “I’m not sure we’re any good with each other either.”
“You don’t mean that. You’re just upset.” Jack’s voice shook as he shoved his hands into his front pockets. When I didn’t respond, he begged, “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare give up on us.”