Smiles Hide Secrets

Chapter (3)

Delilah's POV

"Someone's angry today." Someone says from behind me, making me jump a mile up in the air. I spin around and let out a huff. It's only my trainer Jackson.

"You bet. I smirk and go back to punching the shit out of the stupid bag.

Each punch makes me angrier. Stupid mom. Punch. Stupid Luke. Punch. I hate you and your band Luke. Punch. Stupid Mike. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch.

"I HATE YOU." I scream punching and punching and punching. Suddenly arms wrap around my bare waste. I struggle to get out of them and run to the punching bag to keep beating it, but the hands hold me in place while I trash.

"DELILAH!" Jackson yells. I stop trashing and look at him with anger in my eyes.

"WHAT?" I answer equally as loud.

"Stop." His eyes soften. I look at him in bewilderment- he was the one who thought me to punch my anger away.

"You can let her go, Greg" I spin my head to see Greg smiling slightly at me. Me and Greg train together, we are nothing more but punching buddies. He is a mysterious, dark hair, blue eyed boy. I am the only person he smiles at or talks to in the gym. I don't know what goes on outside of this gym, but one thing I do know is that we understand each other. He only knows my name, I only know his name. We have an unspoken rule to not ask about our lives. We can just explode about someone, and the other has no right to know about the background or what's really going on. It's weird, I know, but it works for us.

"What's going on?" Jackson sighs crossing his arms.

"You know me better than to just ask that" I glare at him. Everyone that knows me, with the exception of Dylan, knows that I won't tell you what's wrong with me. I'm a master at hiding my emotions, and I'm even better at keeping my problems to myself. It's stupid to burden others with your problems. 

"It was worth a shot." He laughed. I crack a smile and laugh shaking my head.

"I've been watching you all morning, how are you not tired?" He asks me as we start walking away from the punching bag. It's not like I've been here more than one hour, I don't see why I would be tiered. I mean, yeah, I've been going at it hard this whole time, but nothing too extreme.

"What do you mean?" I ask him as I sip my water.

"You've been here punching this thing for an hour straight." I look at him as if he grew another head or something.

"What time is it?" I frown. I swear it feels like it's only been an hour.

"Its 7:30." He mumbles as he checks his phone.

"I've been punching that bag for an hour an 15 minutes?" I stare at him wide eyed. No freaking way. 

"Yes, now get out before you pass out for over working yourself.s" He pushes me toward the locker room. Still in awe I make my way to the locker room and get out my stuff, quickly exiting and jogging towards my car. I press the open button on the keys and hop in the SUV.

Starbucks doesn't sound half bad right now. I sigh and step on the pedal, speeding through the London streets. In a matter of twenty minutes I reach a Starbucks. I get out, the cold air hitting my skin immediately. Forget what I said earlier about not being cold, I think I was just overly pumped about working out. Too pumped to notice.

I sprint inside, welcoming the warm air filled with coffee smell with open arms.

"Girl, aren't you freezing?" The girl at the counter asks me eying me closely.

"You'd think I would have thought of getting some joggers considering I live here, eh?" I laugh shaking my head. The girl has brown eyes, tan, even skin and her hair is piled in a bun at the top of her head. She's very pretty to be honest.