Losing Grip

by Mercy Amare

“I’m really out of shape,” I tell him.

  “Do you not normally... exercise?”

  “No, I do. I try to do this five times a week,” I answer.

  “Have you not been doing it long?” he asks. “Your body really has to get used to the work out. You eventually stop getting cramps and your lungs adjust. Pretty soon you’ll be able to run five miles without breathing heavily.”

  “I’ve been doing this for over a year.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nod.

  “Do you have some kind of medical condition?”

  “I’m just going to put this out there—you’re breaking rule number one.”

  “Sorry,” he says.

  “To answer your question, I’m completely healthy. Just a little under-weight.”

  “You need to eat more,” he says, looking at me.

  “I try to. I’m just... not ever hungry.”

  What I don’t say is the thought of food makes me want to vomit, most of the time.

  “Wow. You really do need me as your friend,” he says. “Somebody has to look out for you, and I’m officially taking the challenge. After we’re done here, we are going to go eat breakfast. Or, at least you are. I’m going to watch. I can’t eat before lacrosse practice or else I will puke.”

  “Why should I have to eat if you don’t?”

  “I will eat. After practice. And I will eat a lot. And then I’ll be starving again within two hours.”

  “Why can’t I just eat when you do later?” I ask, because I’m not even a little bit hungry.

  “Because I want you to be hungry again at lunch time.”

  Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

  When I was five, my parents were concerned that I wasn’t eating enough. Wait, I take that back. It was my nanny who was concerned. So, my mom and dad did what any rich parent would do. Instead of dealing with me themselves, they sent me to the best therapist money could buy. The therapist said that it was my way of dealing with grief.

  Eleven years later, I guess I’m still dealing.

  “Time for another sprint,” I say, and take off running.

  Good thing, because I’ve had enough talking about food for a while.

  Twenty five minutes later, Brody and I are in the cafeteria. I have a bagel, a banana, and a black coffee.

  Let’s face it—I’ve got to have caffeine. I only slept about three hours last night, and my body is tired.

  “You are going to eat it all,” he tells me, as we sit down.

  “I’m going to try,” I correct him.

  “Not try. You’re going to do.”

  My phone, which is currently sitting on the table, vibrates.

  It’s a text from Sebastian.

  Sebastian: Want to grab some breakfast before I have to go to lacrosse practice?

  Me: Already here. Come join me :)

  Brody sighs. “I can’t believe you gave Cruz your number, but not me.”

  “Sebastian is my friend. We’ve bonded,” I tell him. “He gets me, for some weird reason.”

  “I don’t like Sebastian.”

  “He doesn’t seem fond of you either. Is this all because he’s lacrosse captain and you’re not?”

  “Is that what he told you?” Brody shakes his head. “It’s a lot more than that. And actually, I didn’t put my name in for voting. It’s my senior year, and I need to focus on college. I have a real shot at getting into Harvard, but I have to keep up my 4.2 average. So, I told the coach I didn’t want to be captain.”

  “So, if this isn’t over that, then what is it?” I ask.

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Okay,” I say. “It’s none of my business, anyway. I broke one of my own rules.”

  “So, Sebastian is your friend, right?”

  I nod.

  “But I’m not?”

  Before I can answer his question, Sebastian takes a seat in front of me.

  “Hey, Jinger.” He looks over at Brody. “Brody.”

  Okay, maybe looks is the wrong word. His eyebrows are crunched up and his face is turning red. I’d say the look is more of a glare. And considering Brody is looking back at him the same way, I’d say the hate is mutual.

  Well, this sucks. I get two friends and they both hate each other.

  Brody turns to look at me. “You, eat. All of this. I’ll let you hang out with your friend. I’ll see you later.”

  He gets up and walks away from the table, and I feel bad.

  I should have given Brody my number, because now, I have no way to reach him.

  “Was he bugging you?” Sebastian asks.

  I shake my head. “No, he’s... nice. He walked me home from the party last night.”

  Sebastian sighs and lowers his head. “I’m sorry that I ditched you like that.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, and take a bite of my banana.

  Yeah, I’m so not hungry.

  I push my food away and drink my coffee.

  “Are you not going to eat that?” Sebastian asks.

  I shake my head, and push it towards him.

  “I’m not eating your food, Jinger,” he says. “I’m going to get my own. And you’re going to eat that.”

  He gets up from the table and goes to grab some food. I sit there by myself and wait for him to come back.

  My phone goes off, and I look down to see a notification from Snap Chat.

  Drew sent me a picture of himself in a football helmet.

  Feel like shit.

  I laugh.

  Poor Drew.

  I take a selfie and write back to him.

  You shouldn’t have drunk so much.

  Sebastian sits back down at the table. His plate is over-flowing with food.

  “Drew just Snap Chatted me,” I say. “He’s at football practice, and I think he’s feeling pretty miserable.”

  “That’s what he gets for getting so wasted last night,” Sebastian says.

  “Does he always do that?”

  “No. I think he was having a bad day yesterday, though.”

  “Turning to alcohol is never the solution to any problem.”

  “I completely agree,” he says. “But, sometimes it’s nice to lose yourself for a little bit.”

  Sebastian is right.

  It does feel good to lose yourself.

  Sometimes, I miss being able to escape. But then I think about Caleb. If anything ever went wrong, he would be alone. I just can’t do that to him.

  “Are you okay?”

  I look up at Sebastian. “Fine.”

  “You blinked twice, Jinger. And your hand is shaking.”

  I put both of my hands on my legs so he can’t see.

  I used to be a cutter.

  I started cutting when I was eleven years old, and I stopped when I was fifteen. I didn’t want to stop, but I had to. Not for me. For my older brother. Sometimes, when I think about cutting, I want to do it so badly that my whole body shakes. I need the release that cutting gives me.

  Caleb never knew that I cut.

  Actually, nobody knew.

  I cut myself on the inside of my thighs and around my bikini area. Some of the scars are pretty deep, but I’ve never shown anybody.

  Someday, I suppose I will.

  Maybe when I fall in love. Obviously, if I’m going to be intimate with somebody, they are going to know. But, I don’t ever plan on telling Caleb.

  Caleb saved my life and he didn’t even know it.

  My leg bounces. Not because I want it to, but because I have to move.

  “Jinger?”

  Sebastian’s voice breaks me out of my spell, and I look up at him.

  “What?” I ask, relieved that my body has finally stopped shaking.

  “What is wrong with you?” he asks, not unkindly.

  “A lot,” is my only response.

  He looks at me, his face full of concern, reaches across the table, and strokes the side of my cheek. “Jinger, I’m here for you. Always. You know t
hat, right?”

  I nod, because I do know.

  What Sebastian doesn’t know is that I need his friendship more than I need my next breath.

  10 a.m.

  Get to the lacrosse field now!

  Before leaving the breakfast table, Sebastian made me finish my banana and eat half of my bagel. It was hard, but I did it. And surprisingly, I feel better. Part of me wants to go back out to the track and do another thirty minutes of sprinting, but then my body reminds me that I’m exhausted from lack of sleep.

  I grab a quick shower, throw on a pair of teal skinny jeans and a black shirt that says New Haven Academy. Why not? There really isn’t a point of getting all dressed up until the dance tonight. If I go.

  I get out my MacBook and check my blog. I have a few comments from the people who follow my blog. I read them and reply to the ones that need replies.

  I’ve had my blog since I was eleven, and sometimes I like to look over my previous posts. I have grown so much, and I know that I still hurt so bad, but it’s better that it was. That gives me hope. I just keep telling myself that if I push through all the bad stuff, it will get better.

  It has to, right?

  My phone vibrates.

  It’s a Snap Chat from Sebastian—a video.

  I hold down the screen and his face pops up. Drew is standing beside him.

  “Jinger, get your ass to the lacrosse field now!” Drew says.

  “Please,” Sebastian adds, and hits Drew on the back of the head.

  The video stops, and I can’t help but smile. I jump out of bed, slip on my Vans, and head to the field.

  This should be interesting.

  “JINGER!” Drew yells when he sees me, and then runs towards me with his arms open wide.

  I stop in my tracks and considering running away from him. But his legs are a lot longer than mine. He would catch me. And probably tackle me to the ground. That might hurt. So I just stand there.

  When he reaches me, he puts his arms around me, picks me up, and spins me around.

  And I’m pretty sure I’m screaming.

  Finally, he puts me down.

  “Don’t ever do that again!” I smack his arm.

  “Ouch.” He rubs his forearm.

  “Just because I’m small enough for you to pick up and carry around doesn’t mean you should do it,” I tell him.

  “Sorry,” he says.

  “Hey, Jinger,” Sebastian says, walking up. “Sorry about Drew. He has no manners, and I can only do so much to rein him in.”

  “I guess you’re feeling better,” I say to Drew.

  “Yep. I puked. A lot. Then I ate some food, drank some water, and took some medicine. It has been downgraded from feel like I’m dying to I am coming down with the flu.”

  “Right.”

  “Have you ever had a hangover?” he asks.

  “Twice. Once when I was twelve and once when I was fourteen,” I answer. “I didn’t actually vomit. I just had a terrible headache.”

  “Twelve?” Sebastian asks. “Oh, my God, Jinger. You started drinking early. I was still obsessed with Minecraft when I was twelve.”

  “How old were you when you lost your virginity?” Drew asks.

  I don’t respond.

  One—because it’s none of their business.

  And two—because I’m sixteen and I’m still a virgin. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit.

  It’s not like I’m saving myself for marriage or anything like that. But I am waiting for love. I have scars that I don’t want anybody to see unless I know that they won’t look at me different because of them.

  My scars don’t define me. They are a part of me. I can’t take it back. So, whoever is with me will just have to deal with it.

  “I was fifteen,” Drew says. “Real hot girl. She was seventeen. A senior. I will never forget her big...”

  “Drew!” Sebastian cuts him off. “Nobody wants to hear the story about how you lost your virginity.”

  “Fine.” Drew turns to me. “So tell us your story. Were you drunk? Most girls I know were, their first time.”

  I open my mouth then close it.

  I hate awkward social situations.

  “Wait...” Drew’s smile grows. “Oh, my God. You’re a virgin.”

  “What makes you think that?” I ask.

  “Because of the way you’re reacting to the question,” he says. “Plus, I kind of have ASP about this kind of stuff.”

  “ESP,” Sebastian corrects him.

  “You are, right?”

  “Of course not.” I lie.

  Sebastian raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t say anything. He obviously knows that I’m lying, but he doesn’t call me out on it, in front of Drew. I’m hoping that he will just forget about this little conversation.

  “Then tell me about your first time,” Drew says.

  “That is kind of personal.”

  “You suck,” Drew says. “Well, I’m out of here. I’m going to go get a shower. You two have fun not talking about sex.”

  He walks off the field and head towards the dorms.

  “Sorry about him.”

  “You apologize for Drew a lot,” I say.

  “Yeah, I guess I kind of do,” he says. “Drew is from my hometown. His mom used to be married to my dad, so we’re sort of like family. Ex-stepbrothers, I guess. I know we’re the same age, but I feel like I need to watch out for him.”

  “I get what you’re saying. My brother, Caleb, is older, but I definitely have to watch out for him.” I watch my feet as I talk to him. I’m not used to opening up to anybody, so this is really weird.

  “What happened earlier, with Drew...” he pauses and I look up at him. “It’s cool. That you’re... you know.”

  “A virgin?”

  “Yeah.”

  I look back down at my feet. “This is kind of awkward. Can we just pretend that we never had this conversation?”

  He lets out a breath. “Yeah. Definitely.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you want to go to the welcome back dance with me?” Sebastian asks, completely changing the subject and catching me off guard.

  I look up at him and he licks his lips nervously.

  “As friends, of course,” he adds when I don’t say anything.

  “You are my friend. I’d like to go with you and meet some new people. Just don’t get mad if I dance with Brody, because I did promise him one song,” I say.

  I want Sebastian to know where I stand.

  “Deal.”

  “So, why did you and Drew call me out here?” I ask.

  “To hang out,” he says. “Drew is cranky when he’s hung-over, so I guess it’s best that he went back to the dorm to sleep it off.”

  “Maybe he should lay off the alcohol,” I say.

  “Probably,” he agrees. “So, I want to go get a shower. I’m all sweaty from lacrosse practice. Do you want to meet up at twelve for lunch?”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  Sebastian walks me back to the front of my dorm and then he heads to his own dorm.

  12 p.m.

  I look like a criminal.

  As I am heading down stairs to meet Sebastian, my phone vibrates.

  It’s a notification from Staying Connected.

  Staying Connected is the social networking site that everybody is on—even my grandma. I don’t like it much, just because whatever I post, my parents can see.

  Brody Johnson would like to be your friend.

  I quickly add him as a friend, and he messages me.

  Brody Johnson: Hey, Jinger. :)

  Me: Hey, Brody.

  I reach the front doors, so I put my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. I feel it vibrate again, but I ignore it because I don’t want to be rude.

  Seriously, I don’t want to be that girl who is always on her phone.

  “Hey,” Sebastian says to me. “You ready for lunch?”

  I nod, and we head towards the cafeteria.

  �
�Where is Drew?” I ask Sebastian as we sit down at the table with our food. I hardly ever see him without Drew, so this is weird. Not that I’m not glad. I am. I can only handle so much Drew.

  “He’s still asleep,” he answers. “But we don’t always hang out.”

  “You don’t?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “It certainly seems that way.”

  Before he can reply, Isaac takes a seat beside me. “Hey, Jinger, Sebastian.”

  “Isaac, where have you been?” I ask him. “I didn’t see you at the mixer last night.”

  “I had some stuff to do off campus,” he says. “But I will be at the dance tonight.”

  “Cool,” I say.

  “What did you and Brody talk about last night when he walked you home?” Sebastian asks me.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. We just talked. I really like Brody. He’s nice.”

  “Just wait until you get to know him. He’s really not nice.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” I say, because I really hope Sebastian isn’t going to be one of those friends. You know, the kind who tells you they can’t be your friend if your friends with their sworn enemy. Because I really like Sebastian, but I also like Brody. They are my only two friends here, unless you count Isaac and Drew.

  Maybe it’s too early to call any of them my friend.

  “I’m just telling you as a friend. Stay away from Brody Johnson. He’s bad news.”

  I need a distraction, so I pull out my phone.

  I read the message from Brody.

  Brody Johnson: I wanted to ask you before Cruz... Want to grab lunch with me? We can go somewhere off campus. I’m already sick of the food here.

  I look down at my untouched food.

  Me: I’m at the cafeteria now with Sebastian, but I haven’t eaten.

  Me: Sebastian is being annoying, so I think I want to go with you.

  Brody Johnson: I’ll be right there. :)