Page 102 of Gabriel
Exiting out of the screen, I decide not to respond. Mostly because I don’t know what to say but it’s fine. I’ll see him tomorrow, along with every weekday this semester after that. Perks of us having classes together. If he has anything to say or talk to me about, he can do it then. I’ll just act like I didn’t see the message.
Since I’m not actually going to Gabriel’s practice, I park beside the building that holds the campus pool. A good swim will help me to clear my head and should get me out of this funk. I feel like a jerk for not responding, but saying the wrong thing feels more detrimental than saying nothing.
When I step inside, I notice that the swim team is utilizing most of the fifty-meter lanes, but there’s one on the far left that looks like it’s available so I walk straight for it.
My phone buzzes again but I wait until I’m inside before digging it out of my pocket.
Gabriel: We have a game against Crown Point University coming up. It’s a home game. You should come.
I stare at the message, scrutinizing each individual word. Is he suggesting I come because he actually wants me to be there? Or is he just worried about me because of what happened with Austin today and he wants to keep an eye on me?
This is what he does, isn’t it? He inserts himself into my life as a way of babysitting me. Making sure I’m okay. That I’m not going to do anything reckless. Austin is on the team, so it’s not like he has to worry about where he’ll be during their game.
Or is he thinking something worse?
We haven’t been talking, so it’s not like he knows how I’m doing. Shitty, by the way. Not that anyone’s asking or that I’d volunteer that information out loud.
I’m anxious as usual. And if I’m honest, a little depressed. A breakup on top of what I’m already dealing with has royally sucked. But I get out of bed every day. I go to all my classes. I’ve lost more weight, but it’s not super noticeable and hey, I look better in my swimsuit, so that’s a plus.
The point I’m trying to make here is, I’m better than I have been.
Does Gabriel think I’ll try and end my life again just because Austin decided to be his normal awful self today? Is that why he’s all of a sudden messaging me after weeks of radio silence?
I hate thinking like this. It just reiterates why we can’t be together. Gabriel always needs to fix things. To fix me. And I know I’m a wreck.
But anyone else in my position would be. What girl who’d been through what I’ve been through would do any better? No one. That’s who.
I’m capable of standing on my own two feet. Gabriel needs to let me.
Urgh. I’m reading too much into this.
I consider ignoring this text as well, but that feels like an asshole move. I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him. I’m not. And he did follow up with more than‘Hey.’
I sigh, my fingers moving over my keyboard with what I hope is a safe enough response.
Me: Maybe… I’ll think about it.
I slipped my suit on beneath my clothes while I was home, so I quickly strip out of my oversized t-shirt and jeans and set my phone and other belongings on a chair before tucking my hair into a swim cap and putting on my goggles.
A whistle blows. “Come on, ladies. Push!”
I lift my gaze to the pool and a pang of longing stutters through my chest as I watch Coach Cho urge the girls to move faster. She looks down at her stopwatch, her expression pinched as her eyes flick from it to the nine swimmers racing through the lanes.
I considered going out for the swim team last year before the assault and everything that happened after it. I’m good enough to make the team. My fifty-meter freestyle is faster than Cate’s—the team’s fastest swimmer in freestyle for PacNorth. But I just … I don’t know. I could never work up the nerve to go for it. I was on the cheer squad already, and at the time, I didn’t want to rock the boat with my team.
Swimming has always been my stress reliever. I think I convinced myself that turning it into a competitive sport wouldtake away my joy. Really, I think I was more concerned about upsetting my friends if I left the squad and chose swimming over cheer, but look how that turned out.
Joelle and Kim don’t talk to me. And I’m not on the cheer squad anymore, nor did I join the swim team. I’m just … alone.
There’s a part of me that misses being a part of something. Misses being on a team. But there’s a bigger part of me that’s terrified of joining one only to have the rug yanked out from under me all over again. Losing my friends after the assault was hard. Losing the team and everyone else I counted as part of my support system, that made everything that much harder.
It’s too late for all of that now, though. The season has already started. Maybe next year I’ll put myself out there. It’d make Mom and Dad happy. I sigh knowing how unlikely it is that I’ll go through with it. But it’s a nice thought. Something to be hopeful about, as Dr. Walker likes to remind me.
Hope is being able to see that there is, in fact, light despite all of the world’s darkness.
I’m just over here still searching for it.
Pushing my thoughts aside, I make my way to the block and step onto it, getting myself into position. This is where I clear my thoughts. Where I let everything going on in my life go.
