Page 118 of Be My Compass

Twenty-Six

Kastle

I pump the metal bar. Up. Down. Push with all my might. The song on the radio is heavy metal. Lots of drums. Lots of driving bass. No singing. Thank God. I can’t take anymore artists crying about the love they lost.

I exercise to the frantic beat of the guitar solo. Sweat stains my grey shirt and courses down my face. I adjust my fingers on the metal rode and keep pumping, ignoring how my muscles burn.

I’ve lost count of the hours. How many reps I’ve done. How many callouses just grew on my fingertips.

I don’t care.

I just need out of my own head. My own darkness.

My phone is silent at my side.

For once.

Mom’s been hounding me the past few days, but I haven’t answered. I don’t want to speak to her. Heath’s contacted me too. To let me know that he and Glory are on their way here. That they’ll be in the hospital next week.

I video chat with him and Glory everyday. It’ll be nice having them close by after all these years. They’re family. And right now, I could use the distraction.

Kaelyn’s bright brown eyes come to mind.

Kaelyn in that sheer robe.

Kaelyn with that dark red lipstick.

I push my arms harder. Farther.

It does nothing to chase her out of my head.

She’s still there.

Always.

I haven’t heard from her since our fight.

Nothing.

She’s taken down all the pictures.

I don’t know if she did it for me or for herself. I didn’t care about the damn pictures in the first place. It was the method. It was the pattern of her actions that scared the hell out of me.

And now she’s gone.

Part of me is glad she hasn’t called.

The other part…

I stop. Check my phone.

There are no new messages from Kaelyn.

I don’t know which way it is now. Who’s angry with whom.

I just know that I’m broken.

So is she.

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