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Hating Bad[Unedited][Being Rewritten]

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Chapter 2

“Seriously, it’s a Saturday and you wake me up for this?!”

“Come on, I have a job interview!”

“Five minutes more, okay?” I respond, waving her away.

Paige rolls her eyes, thrusting the two dresses in front of my face. “Girl please, you get enough sleep as it is. Now, I think I oughta wear beige, ya know, keep it casual. But at the same time, I kinda wanna make a bold statement. I’m thinkin’ red. Whatchu you think?”

Letting out a yawn, I pull the covers back over me. “I’m thinking I wanna sleep.”

“Then pick a dress!”

“Beige, go with the beige!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air.

“Red it is, thanks!” She beams, exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

Why are we even friends?

Laying back down in the bed, I tug the covers over my head. For a couple minutes I toss and turn, in an attempt to get comfortable. Finding myself unable to return to sleep, I press my face in the nearest pillow and let out a shrill and barely audible scream.

Unable to muster up the strength to get out of bed, I lay there. My eyes stay glued to the ceiling, though an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion overcomes me, every time I close my eyes to try and sleep my mind goes into overdrive. For an hour I just lay there motionless, listening to Paige’s soft humming and the sound of water running, dishes hitting against one another.

At least I don’t have classes today, thank God. At the rate I’m going this morning, I probably wouldn’t have even gone.

“You good?” Trevor questions, eyebrows raised, a hint of hidden amusement in his words.

Sending one last swing at the punching bag, I nod, taking a minute to stretch. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He chuckles, “You tell me, I ain’t the one who lookin’ all mad. You are.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Rolling my eyes I resume punching the bag, beads of sweat begin to coat my forehead. Is it sad that I can not even tell whether or not I’m okay at this point? Been so long since I have felt okay, I don’t even know what it feels like.

Trevor uses the punching bag next to mine, occasionally glancing in my direction. I pretend not to see him, to not acknowledge his eyes filled with a concern that I don’t need. That I didn’t ask for.

I hold my tongue, hitting harder against the punching bag. Dad and Cathy, classes, tests, Isaac, mom.. being away from the house I grew up in. Just goes to show no matter how hard you try, you can never escape your past. Even though you may try to.

I’m learning that the hard way..

Craning my neck, my gaze falls on Trevor, talking to some guy. Unable to get a good look at the person I frown, narrowing my eyes as they exchange something. Thought he was trying to stay clean?

Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead I decide to take a break, I sit down on the bench and gulp down a little bit of water. Rubbing my hands together, I release a deep breath. I’m not his babysitter, he can look after himself.

Upon seeing me looking his direction, Trevor ushers the person wearing the dark hoodie outside. Tempted to follow I stay rooted to my spot, my suspicions of his drug usage only growing by the minute. Standing up I head over to the treadmill and continue to work out, attempting to get my mind off of the shady exchange.

A while later Trevor enters the gym, the person he was talking to no longer in sight. I bite my lip as he goes to the back, hitting his fists hard against the punching bag. Watching as his jaw clenches and he swings harder, a crease forms on my forehead.

“Guess it’s my turn to ask if you’re good.” I call out, ignoring the stares from others in the gym.

Right before he throws another punch, he glimpses over his shoulder. “Never been better.”

Somehow I doubt that.

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