TW: Depiction of self harm/blood
Brooke
A pit forms in my stomach when we pull up to the school. There are cars everywhere and people all over the place. I didn't use to be this affected by people, but now I worry about the dangers in everything. I try not to think too much as we make our way deeper into the crowd. Every so often, we stop to say hello to people Ezra and Todd know, and the occasional face I recognize from Ida's. With every encounter, I smile politely but let the guys do all the talking. I was definitely not prepared for this today, and quickly feel my energy draining. I'm hyper aware of everything going on around me, listening for any hint of trouble. We finally find a spot to sit in the bleachers. I dig my palms into the cool metal and let out a sigh of relief. I chat with Ezra and Todd, and find that I'm starting to tune out the crowd. Soon, the announcer's voice booms in my head.
"Happy Friday y'all! We're so glad everyone could make it out to support our team for their first game of the season! Before we get our boys out here, let's take a minute to thank our sponsors." He lists several businesses and donors, pausing to allow everyone to cheer between each one. "And lastly, I want to thank the man who has generously provided uniforms and supplies to our team for yet another year. Give it up for Endo, owner of Owens Sporting Goods!" I'm a little stunned for a second, though I'm not sure why. I guess I would've thought Endo might have mentioned something about this when we spoke earlier. Not that he doesn't have a right to keep things to himself, he just doesn't seem the type that normally would. It's at this point that I notice everyone's heads turned to my left, and I see some people clapping a man on the back. When he looks in my direction, I see that it is, in fact, Endo. He catches my gaze, and I raise my eyebrows at him. He grins sheepishly and shakes his head, seeming embarrassed at all the attention. I chuckle, and Ezra looks at me like I'm crazy.
"What?" I snap, and he shrugs.
"Nothing, jeez." He says, raising his hands in defense.
A few moments later, the team floods the field. Ezra and Todd point out several players, telling me who's related to who and what kind of story each kid has. When the game starts, I find myself surprisingly involved, rooting for Todd's brother Justin and cheering along with the crowd at every little thing.
At halftime, Ezra and Todd stand. "We're gonna go hunt some nachos, you want to come with?" I shake my head, not wanting to fight through the crowd again. "Alright. Want anything?" I shake my head again. Once they go, I occupy myself by people watching. I notice how seemingly every person who walks by stops to talk to other groups, and I'm a little overwhelmed at how everybody knows everybody. Even though this is my hometown, in this moment I feel like an outsider looking in. With this thought in mind, I turn to the left to look at one of the few people I do know here. It just so happens that I find Endo already looking my way as well. I smile. He waves, saying something.
"What?" I say, cupping my ear. He holds up a finger. He hops up and shuffles through a maze of people before coming to a stop behind me.
"Hey." He smiles, and through his stubble I notice he has predominant dimples. "I see you decided to come out. Having a good time?"
I nod. "Yeah, I'm actually having fun so far. My cousin keeps it interesting with his commentary. You can sit if you want." He climbs down to my row and sits next to me. Once he's no longer standing over me, I breathe out and relax my shoulders.
"Is Todd your cousin?"
"No but practically. His boyfriend Ezra is. Our dads are brothers." I answer honestly, surprised that he didn't already know based on his easygoing conversation with Todd at Ida's. It's not like their relationship is a secret, but in this town it's hit or miss with the type of person you're dealing with.
"Ah, so that's why Charlotte trusts you with her precious diner." He grins. I note no hint of any ill thoughts. Good.
I chuckle, "Yeah, if I wasn't basically family, I wouldn't stand a chance. She runs a tight ship. So, a sporting goods store huh? You failed to mention that earlier."
A slight blush crosses his face. "Should I have bragged about it instead?"
"Nah, humble works for you. But I mean, if you wanted to, I would've listened." That all came out a little bolder than I intended. I look out to the field, avoiding his green eyed gaze.
"Well," He says after what feels like an eternity of awkwardness, but was probably a perfectly normal pause, "it's not a very interesting story. I played a lot of football growing up. I wasn't the best, but I faired alright. Did a number on my knee on homecoming my junior year, which took away any option I may have had to keep playing. But I didn't take it too hard. It put into perspective that I would need to find something I liked to do that I could build a future on. And I had always been interested in business, had the lemonade stands, the whole nine yards." I chuckle at the thought, and he grins but carries on. "So I went to UVA Wise, got a business degree, with the help of my parents got a loan, and opened the store. And that's where I've been the last 5 years. It's been fantastic."
I smile and say, "That's great. It sounds like you really found your passion." I mean it. For me, I had a feeling that I could've grown to really thrive in what I was doing. Now, I can't even stand the thought of it. I think I'd gladly spend the rest of my days at the diner, where everything is simpler. Safer.
My distracted thoughts are interrupted by the return of Ezra and Todd. "Hey Endo." Todd says, a slightly puzzled look on his face as his eyes shift between the two of us sitting here like friends.
"Hey Todd. I was just keeping Miss Brooke here company while y'all were gone." He motions to stand, but Todd stops him.
"You're welcome to stay with us. Y'all just scoot a bit." We move to the left and they sit on my right. Todd leans over and says, "This is Ezra by the way. Ezra, this is Endo. You may have seen him around at the diner."
Endo smiles. "Nice to meet you Ezra."
"You too." Then, in a quiet voice, Ezra asks in my ear, "You doing okay?" I nod. "If you need him to move or need to leave or anything just let me know."
"I'm fine, Ezra. Really." I say, even though every cell of my body is painfully aware of not just Endo's presence next to me, but of everyone else too. I'm ignoring every instinctual thought telling me "danger, flee!" because I know how unlikely it is that anything's going to happen. At least not with Ezra and Todd by my side. Reminding myself of this keeps my breathing even but doesn't completely stop me from fidgeting with the jewels on my phone case. If anyone notices, they don't bring it up.
As the game goes on, I become more comfortable with having Endo next to me. The four of us are having a good time, with lots of jokes sprinkled in the commentary. I haven't laughed like this since before everything in March happened.
For a little bit, everything actually felt normal. I wasn't thinking about anything beyond football. It was good. Now that the game's over, the upcoming fight through the celebrating crowd has brought me back to reality. We leave Endo talking to an overly grateful parent and Todd breaks off to meet his brother and mom. Ready to get home, Ezra and I head to the parking lot so he can drop me off before he meets with Todd's family at the Mexican restaurant. Once in the car, I can fully take a breath. I feel stupid that I have such a reaction to being near people. I shouldn't fixate on what they might think of me or wonder if they might hurt me. It's ridiculous. And yet.
"Brooke?" Ezra's voice breaks through my thoughts.
"Huh?"
"I asked if you had fun tonight. What's going through your head right now?"
"Sorry. Nothing, I'm fine. Just tired. I did have a good time, really." I try to sound as convincing as possible despite the half-truth. He shoots me a look but doesn't press the matter. I turn the music up and we ride the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, apart from Ezra's less-than-average singing.
When we pull up to my apartment, Ezra asks, "Are you sure you don't want to come eat with us?"
"I'm fine, I'll find something and probably go to bed soon. I'm wore out."
"Okay. If you need anything text me, love."
I smile. "Thanks. Y'all have fun. Love ya." I stop before climbing the stairs and look out the window at him, knowing what I'm about to do and wondering ever so briefly if I should talk to him instead. But then I see him smile at something on his phone, and I know I can't bother him with this. I've already completely interrupted his life by being here and depending on him as much as I have. This would be too much to put on him. I turn back around as he drives off, knowing I've made the right decision in not bringing it up. I lock the door when I get in, checking it again after taking my shoes off, just to make sure.
The pressure that's been building in my chest since we left the game has evolved to include a persistent pounding in my ears. A voice in my head, roaring, screaming, telling me I'm nothing, worthless, undeserving of the good time I've had this afternoon, of the moments where I thought I could move on. I clasp my hands over my ears and let out a guttural groan as I stumble toward the bathroom cabinet. With tunnel vision, I reach around until I feel it, grasping the small bag in my hands as I sink to the floor.
As I'm shimmying my jeans past my hips, I notice the taste of salt in my mouth before I recognize that I'm crying. With a cold focus, I sweep my hands across my face until I can see clearly again. Methodically, I open the pouch and pull out each item, lining them up on the rim of the bathtub. Seeing everything ready and waiting for me renews the sense of urgency and I rip open the rubbing alcohol swab. Briefly, my fingers flit across the skin of my thigh before landing on a spot that feels right.
The second I see the beads of red swelling up, I let out the breath I'd been holding, feeling the relief spread through every part of my body. The tears cease, and a docile hush flows across my mind.
With clarity among my thoughts, I silently begin to tend to the wound. As the high fades, I'm faced with a slight feeling of shame creeping in. I'm painfully aware that at 25 years old, the childish, fucked up coping mechanisms of my teens resurfacing makes me a disgusting mess. I don't dwell on this though, because it works. It's the only thing keeping me sane. Besides, it's safe enough. I'm meticulous and neat, even in the midst of the worst. And it's only embarrassing if someone else knows, right? Which is never going to happen. With the painful thoughts sated, I'm able to let my brain numb. After clearing the rest of my mess away, I sit in front of the TV and turn on something mindless, letting it soon carry me into the world of sleep.
A link to resources if you or anyone you know is struggling with self harm.
https://twloha.com/find-help/help-by-topic/self-injury/