Bad Rep

EIGHT

Again, if we were playing Family Feud, he'd be wiping the board.

"I don't want to calm down!" I let out a growl of frustration, flopping down on a nearby bench. I hunch forward, placing my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, a sudden wave of emotions crashing over me. "I'm so tired of feeling and looking like this," I confess, my voice cracking and my eyes burning with the threat of angry tears.

"Hey," Rhodes coos, his voice surprisingly soft and empathetic. He kneels down in front of me, placing a comforting hand on my leg. "We'll get there," he promises. "We just need to take it one day at a time... Preferably without any injuries."

Unable to help it, a small laugh escapes the back of my throat.

I drop my hands to see Rhodes staring back at me, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a small smile. His large hand brushes up and down my calf a few times before he stands, offering me that same hand. I take it, feeling a newfound sense of comradery, and he helps me up to finish the rest of our workout.

✨

On the ride home, Eli speaks up, his voice cutting through the silence of the truck, somewhat startling me.

"Hey, I'm not going to be able to pick you up from the gym tomorrow," he informs me.

I turn my head to look at him, frowning. "What?"

"I can take you to the gym tomorrow, but I can't pick you up," he reiterates. "I have that big competition this weekend and I need to put in extra hours tomorrow to get ready."

I bite my lip, conflicted. "Then how am I supposed to get home?"

He shrugs, eyes locked on the road. "You're gym isn't too far from the house. You could walk home. The extra cardio will do you some good."

My stomach twists at his words, and my cheeks flood with heat in embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess," I reluctantly agree, my voice small.

In reality, the gym isn't too far from the house, maybe two miles. And I guess it isn't really that dark out yet when I usually leave the gym, the sun just starting to set. As long as Rhodes and I don't work on legs tomorrow I should be able to walk home—or I could just call a cab. But calling a cab would probably be silly. Maybe Eli's right and I'm just being a baby. The extra cardio won't kill me, and like he said, I need it.

As soon as we get home I head straight for the shower, wanting to wash the sweat off my body. Once I'm out of the shower, I take a look at myself in the mirror, disgusted at how bloated I look. But despite how repulsed I am by my own reflection, that doesn't seem to curb my appetite, my stomach growling at me angrily.

I throw on my pajamas and head for the kitchen, going straight for the pantry. My eyes scan the shelves and land on the M&M's, my stomach sinking in realization of how many I ate earlier.

I quickly shut the pantry door, deciding I've consumed enough calories for the day and should skip dinner.

Hungry and tired, I go to the bedroom to find Eli sitting in bed, looking at his phone. I drop down onto my side of the bed dramatically, groaning. "I just want to eat everything in sight," I complain, secretly hoping for some sympathy.

Eli let's out a hum of acknowledgement, eyes never breaking from his screen to look at me. "What if you tried one of those vape things?" he suggests. "Don't they have a hundred different flavors for them, or something?"

I frown at him. "What about my lungs?" I counter, knowing how awful they are for you.

He shrugs carelessly. "So? Who cares? It'll stop you from eating so you won't be fat anymore."

And there it was.

The F word.

His words are like a sucker punch straight to the gut, that one specific word hanging between us like a guillotine—except I'm the one standing too close, getting shred to pieces.

My heart lodges in my throat, suffocatingly so, making my eyes burn.

Silently, I get up from the bed and walk to the living room, taking a seat on the couch. I hug my knees to my chest and silently cry until I hear Eli getting ready for bed, crawling into bed and turning out the lights.

My heart sinks even further, knowing he didn't even wait up for me to come back to bed or sense that anything was wrong.

I stay on the couch until the early hours of the morning, painstakingly numb, until I'm finally able to convince myself to get up and crawl into bed an hour before Eli's alarm clock goes off.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, this one really, really hurt. While I can't promise things will get better soon, I can promise Eli will slowly start to make his exit and we'll get more Rhodes content.