Author's Notes: Sorry for being late in updating. Enjoy!

Chapter 11: Runaway

The pain from Isaac's breakup was still there.

It was still there even after I took a shower the night he broke up with me. It was still there when I went to sleep. It was still there when I dreamed of the break up all over again. It was there when I ate breakfast the next morning. It was there during rehearsal, break, sectionals, lunch and so and so forth. And it was still there when Bronwyn talked to me a couple of days later. Actually, the pain (which was starting to numb by that point) had started all over again when I told her.

I had avoided the overall mentioning of Isaac for awhile and had succeeded in not even thinking about him. How, one asks? Avoid the topic of him with my friends, avoid looking at Andrea and immerse myself in my conducting. Now, I wasn't avoiding my situation or running from my problems (at least, I didn't think I was). I was simply trying to deal with the idea that I was single now. It was a bit hard to grasp. So, you can imagine the pain was great when I had to tell Bronwyn about the break up.

And guess what? The pain was still freaking there during our little meeting with Arlint. Even when Miss Arlint was telling all the leaders that the DCI officials had essentially told her (and us) that we either become Champions overnight or become, well, less than wannabes for the next ten years. Now, that was a situation that made me forget Isaac temporarily.

It had angered me at first. All I could think about was how dare they practically threaten us. I was not an uber feminist – far from it. I knew there were things out there that girls could not do no matter how much we tried. That there were some things that was just made and purposed for boys. Just like I knew there was some things that boys couldn't do right because it was ultimately a feminine thing. Like being a mother. Yes, there are great dad's out there (my dad was a great father) and there are some out there that are doing an excellent job on their own, but, to a certain degree, I felt that there was just something about being a mother a dad couldn't replace. And vice versa.

But when the DCI officials almost discriminated against us because we were an all-female corps, that just downright pissed me off. Why was it, I had thought, that the world thinks it's okay if an all male corps goes out and performs, but girls couldn't? Why was it that boys would get no retribution for what we girls were doing? All I could think about was that, somewhere, these DCI officials wouldn't even bat an eye if we lost. All I could think about was that I bet DCI would celebrate and prove Arlint wrong.

I had glanced at Arlint as she had been telling us all this and I felt somewhat bad for her. She was here, with some of the best instructors, and putting her reputation on the line. I knew that should we failed, she would also be a laughing stock of the DCI world. We, the girls and the corps, would suffer for a little while, but she would forever be known as a failure compared to her male counterparts. So, I knew, I had to encourage her and put her nerves at ease. Not only as girl, but also as a drum major and leader.

When I told her that we could do it, she gave me a soft smile which put a small smile on my face, happy that I managed to somewhat boost the confidence not only for the girls in the room, but for Miss Arlint as well. We could do it, I had believed. We had to prove to the officials and our male counterparts in these upcoming competitions that we could win. That meant perfection and no mess-ups. Then another thought had crossed my mind. One thing I shouldn't have overlooked:

Brannon.

My heart pounded and my palms began to sweat as Bronwyn and the others were talking. Should anyone find out about him, we were royally screwed. Not only would the Cadettes be humiliated for the next God knew how long, but also we would and could be disqualified. It would ruin our chances. My chances. The corps chances. No, no, no, no, no! I couldn't do that to the corps!

My mind was racing for the remainder of the meeting until Bronwyn had demanded that we return to my room. When we got there, we found Brannon already there and we both blurted out our opinions. I won't deny that I wasn't too shocked about Bronwyn's response nor was I shocked at her shocked expression. What did throw me off was Brannon's response.

When he stormed out of that door, I had honestly had never felt worse than I did then. When I suffered through my freshman year, it was bad, but I knew that I was innocent. And I was just very frustrated because hardly anyone believed me. And I did feel bad when Floyd pulled us out of competition, but I knew it wasn't my fault. I knew it was Andrea's. And when I didn't get drum major the first year I tried out, I was disappointed, but knew it wasn't my decision. But this…

…was worse. It was worse because I was at fault for his pain and it was my decision that hurt him. It was solely me that had, as Bronwyn put it, broke his heart.

Tears were slowly forcing themselves up to my eyes as Bronwyn continued to make me feel worse as she accused me of not letting him in. That was I was scared to get burned by him. She wasn't making me feel any better, but I couldn't tell her that because I knew she was right. And when I knew she was finished, I had stormed out of the room, refusing to let her see my tears.

I had run away some distance before I crouched on the floor and allowed tears to flow. My head had pounded and I could feel the blood rushing throughout my body. I rubbed my temples and kept thinking about how everything I was dealing with was just too much. Nobody told me that this summer would be like this!

I had pictured this summer to be as fun as the last summer. I had picture Brannon, Bronwyn and I getting involved in stupid bets like in our internship and pulling pranks. Having triumphs and defeats, and the only tears shed would be ones of dedication and the fact that we won a trophy for our skill. I never imagined so much turmoil would be imprinted on this summer.

A part of me hated this summer. A part of me was half tempted to call Derek and tell him to come pick me up and bring me home. I knew he would do it in a heartbeat if I called him up, crying. But I could hear Wilson's stupid voice telling me that I was running away from my problems again. I could practically see the disappointed look in his face when I showed up at Beachville earlier than expected. And I couldn't bare to see anymore disappointment in my life.

But I couldn't help the fact that I was non-confrontational. I was one who avoided bad situations. I was one who would rather say something to ease everyone rather say what I was really feeling. Because, I knew, that if I did say what I was really feeling then nobody would like me. I usually had some pretty nasty comments about everyone at one point in my life. So it was natural for me to run away from a situation and my problems.

Not everyone was like Erin, who would say the right thing and stand up for the right thing – even if she lost her friends in the process. Hell, she did it my freshman year. She stood by me. She knew Andrea was wrong and faced half the kids she had gone to school with since she was in elementary school.

Not everyone was like Paige, who knew how to say what she was really feeling without hurting anyone's feelings. Sure, she was upset at me two years ago, but at least she never really said anything on the matter. But she knew how to express herself without really ruffling any feathers along the way.

Not everyone was like Tina, who just said what she felt and didn't give a damn if she hurt someone's feelings. She just courageously (or foolishly) spoke her mind and if you didn't like what she said, she could really care less. So long as she got it off her chest, she was happy. And that was all that mattered.

So, yeah, I was me. And I was non-confrontational, but I was not a bad person, I knew. I knew that I was risking everything. The Cadettes, Miss Arlint, all the instructors, me, Bronwyn and, hell, even Laura, would be burned should someone in DCI found out about Brannon. And yes, it was somewhat mean, but good leaders had to make tough decisions all the time. A good leader knew they had to put the betterment of the group before everything else. Or at least, that was what Alexa told me. Somehow, though, I doubted this what she meant.

I nodded and stood up. I knew that I had to make Brannon understand where I was coming from. I had to. It was bad enough that I felt somewhat alone in my situation, but maybe he'll see my point of view on this situation. Maybe, after I explained it to him, he'll understand.

Yes, that's it.

I stared at his form. To anyone else it looked like a somewhat masculine girl sitting around, looking at the flowers. I knew, though. I knew that, underneath the girl façade, was a teenage boy, angry and hurt that one of his so-called friends ditched him. I recalled what Bronwyn had said and wanted nothing more than to help him. To heal him. To have him understand me. It was bad enough that I felt disconnected from my friends while I suffered from my breakup. I already lost one boy I cared about. I wasn't going to loose another.

I took a deep breath and slowly moved over to him, fear wrapped around me. I didn't know what to say exactly, but I knew I had to say something. As I slowly sat down next to him, I felt his body tense and then shift away from me. I felt a pang in my heart, but didn't acknowledge it or show it. Instead, I inhaled sharply, held it in briefly and let it go as I murmured, "Brannon, I'm sorry."

He didn't respond.

I kept quiet, trying to accumulate the right words to get him to talk to me again. I knew, in the past, I always had at least a few good words whenever I tried to cheer someone up, but I had nothing now. My mind drew a complete blank. I tried again as I still thought hard about what to say, "Look, you have to understand why I said you have to go…"

I winced. Okay, that sounded bad.

Apparently, Brannon thought so too. "What's there to understand? You said it all earlier. I'm easy to sacrifice. Thanks a lot."

I pursed my lips and glared at him, "My reputation and the reputation of the Cadettes is one the line. Not to mention you could be the laughing stock of every male should someone find out about you!"

That must have hit a nerve of some kind because he finally turned to me and when he did, I could see the anger blazing from his eyes. Hell, I could feel it. "And you don't think I'm risking that already? Don't you think that if my dad finds out about this, he's gonna question me? Or how about my two older brothers? They already give me a hard time as it is for being a band kid while they're jocks! Didn't you think of that?"

I glanced down at my hands, "No…"

He snorted and jumped to his feet, "Obviously not. But, hey, it's okay! Let's sacrifice Brannon because your reputation as a good drum major is on the line while my sexual orientation is on the line! Yeah, seems like a fair trade…"

He was mocking me. I knew he was. And I knew he was just in doing that after all the things I had said. But my anger, stubbornness and pride wouldn't submit to my punishment being bestowed upon by Brannon. I stood up and, although considerably shorter than him, looked him in the eyes and bit out, "That's not fair!"

Brannon's face reddened and he looked flustered. And then he started laughing. I knew it wasn't a humorous laugh. It sounded more like a 'dark irony' laugh. It's the only I could describe it. I stared at him blankly as he laughed like some joke from the universe had been revealed itself to him. Finally, he turned to me in the middle of his laughter and said darkly, "You know what's not fair? My situation…"

"Yes, Brannon," I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, exasperated. "I know."

He shook his head and began pacing, a frown on his face, "No, you don't get it. Do you know what's it like, Vanessa, to masquerade as someone from the opposite gender in hopes that you get an ounce of attention from the person you care about?"

I froze in my spot once the words left his mouth. The pressure from pinching my nose had lessened as dropped my hand slowly, letting his words sink in. My heart rate shot up quickly. Part of me wanted to believe that I didn't hear what he said. The nervousness in my stomach was amplified and I suddenly didn't feel very well.

He continued, not paying heed to my facial expressions, lost in his own train of thought, "Do you know what it's like to room with that person? To see, but never touch?"

I slowly looked up at him and found his face troubled. I was torn between leaving and comforting him. I didn't know what to do at that moment. And then he glanced at me. I took in a sharp breath when I recognized the pain in his eyes. I would know. I had that look in my eyes when Isaac broke up with me. And that just terrified me. I took a step back, unable to fully take in what he was saying. I shook my head and breathed out, "W-what?"

"Do you know what it's like hearing them talk about someone else, knowing that you'll never be that 'someone' they would talk about?" Brannon asked, desperation seeping into his tone, which didn't help my already torn and frightened feelings. "But still hoping it will be you one day?"

I tried blocking out what he was saying. I tried thinking about the situation with DCI and the old, sexist farts up there. I tried thinking of Miss Arlint's disappointed look if she found out this secret. I tried picturing my friends. I tried picturing my family. Anything to block out what Brannon was telling me because I didn't know if I could handle it. I didn't know if I was ready to hear what he was telling me. It unsettled me like no other.

"Do you know that pain, Vanessa?" He asked. "To be the invisible one? To be known, but not seen?"

"Brannon!" I cried, not able to breathe anymore. My eyes scanned my surroundings, subconsciously searching for an escape, but I knew he was watching me. Again, I was trying to run away from my problems. "Stop!"

He stared at me, an incredulous look on his face, "I just tell you what I'm feeling and all you can tell me is stop?" He snorted and shook his head, "Gee, thanks, Vanessa."

My heart would not calm down and I was somewhat afraid that it would burst out of my chest at any given moment. I was panicking and I didn't think it would stop any time soon. "What do want me to do?! What do you want me to say?!"

"At least tell me what you're thinking!" He yelled at me.

"No, you don't want me to tell you I'm thinking," I shouted back at him, pointing my finger at his chest. "You want me to tell you that it's my fault for your feelings! You want me to tell you that I feel the same way! You want me to tell you that I'm gonna fix everything! You want me to apologize, damn it!"

Brannon back away and laughed that same dark laugh again. He rolled his eyes and looked at him, exhaustion and frustrated etched into his face, "Yes, yes I do. Is that so wrong?"

"But I can't!" I told him, my own frustration becoming apparent. I backed away slowly and turned away from him, unable to see the hurt that had flashed across his face. "I can't tell you that. For the love of God, Brannon, my boyfriend just broke up with me and you're demanding something like that from me? Damn it, that's not freakin' fair!"

"Vanessa…"

"No! Stop! Let me…let me…" I struggled for words. "…just stop."

And then I ran away.

Author's Notes:

Again, sorry for being late. Review, please.