Page 16 of Break Me

How could I not?

I can’t get her out of my head.

Even when I’m not with her, she’s still haunting me.

It’s pointless.

I’m too far gone.

I hate myself for hurting her like that. I keep seeing that hurt look on her face and it’s tearing me apart. I did that to her. I put that face there.

I never wanted to hurt her. I just wanted to be honest. I was tryingnotto hurt her.

And I only hurt her worse.

I head out to practice with rage inside of my body.

“Well, if it isn’t The Dropout?” one of the guys teases me.

I slam him against the lockers.

He raises his hands and backs off. “Dude, at least wait till I get my pads on?”

I am not to be fucked with.

When I get on the field, it’s even rougher.

I’m elbowing guys. Slamming them against the ground. I feel this electric hot charge of anger inside of me.

Coach blows the whistle on me more times than I can count until he finally benches me and screams in my face.

“TRIST,” he yells, “You are afuckingtight end. You arenotagoddamnedlinebacker. Get out of my practice and I don’t want to see you back here until you get your head straight!”

He’s right to throw me out.

I’m not thinking clearly.

I am so off my axis that it’s scary.

I have never, ever behaved like this in a practice before.

This is worse than a few failing grades.

I head to the locker room and take off my pads.

What if I had this all wrong?

I mean, if this is what it’s like without her, how could it possibly be worsewithher?

I mean, would it be so wrong to be happy for a change?

Clearly, being angry isn’t a great way to win games.

I can’t go back to indifferent.

That’s long gone.

So, what if I gave happy a shot?

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