Fighting the Good Fight, or How I Found Out My Friend Is A Teddy Bear
The humid air of the gym reeked of sweat coming down the skin of those inside. Most inside stood at or near edge of the room, preoccupied in watching one than sparring with one another or just throwing punches at one of the many punching bags. Seeing this one person on their own wasn't an odd sight at this downtown gym, as anyone who asked her to spar was either overly confident and left with a loss, or were new and only judged her ability based on her size. Such an incident happened a while earlier, and while the opponent put up a good fight, getting a couple of decent hits in, she didn't go down and ultimately one another victory. Today, however, her punches were thrown extra hard, and kicks given with more force, sending echoes from each hit to the poor red punching bag that was on the receiving end of her wrath.
Ashley Spinelli, or simply known as Spinelli, continued to go at the punching bag with seemingly limitless energy. Breathing hard, she sent out another round of punches, blind to the intimidated eyes watching her. She stayed light on her feet, her ponytail bouncing around as she moved. Short, she was barely over half the height of the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.
Finally, feeling that she was done for the day, she stepped back from the punching bag. She looked at the accumulating rips. The thing was barely holding together, and her having a field day on it for an hour straight didn't help. She grabbed her duffel bag sitting against the wall, and headed out the door.
"Someone should get that thing replaced," she said. She reached inside the bag, grabbing a small towel to wipe the sweat off her forehead. "It's about to fall apart."
They all nodded as she left. If the petite fighter had stayed for another moment, she would have seen a rip at the bottom give away and the sand pour out, piling up on the padded floor. The others cringed. Any one person who was able to do that was more than worthy of respect.
Stepping out into the cool end of summer evening air as refreshing after being in that stuffy gym. Wearing a pair of red boxing shorts, a fitted white t-shirt, and light shoes, the heat from the workout kept her from shivering. Two years spent working out like this and she was used to her muscles aching, and it barely registered, even after the extra effort she put in today.
While it hardly bothered her on most days, for some reason, it stuck in her mind today. Those damn Ashley's and their comments about her appearance and clothes and who she chose to be around with. Did they have nothing better to do but make fun of her? Most people picked up a hobby at this point in their lives, shouldn't they get one? One that didn't involve her at all? Well, at least she was able to put that pent up anger to good use, and not knocking their noses up and into their skull.
She stood in front of the bus stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. She couldn't see it see it down the street, so she might be waiting for a while. It was Friday night, and while on any other Friday she would be trying to figure out what party to go to, she wanted to relax, maybe watch a movie, and go to sleep. After a long shower, of course.
When the bus finally arrived, Spinelli climbed on, grabbing a book out of her bag. She blamed her friends for getting her into dark graphic novels. A least seeing others art styles helped her improve her own art work. She was almost finished with this volume. She should pick up the next volume sometime soon.
Once the bus stopped at her neighborhood, she didn't head home right away. Her parents were out visiting their aunt, who was very pregnant and 'ready to burst' as her mother put it, leaving her the house for the weekend. She could do anything she wanted, but being home by herself wasn't one of them at the moment. Spinelli walked right past her house, continuing a little ways up the street.
Making sure the strap of her bag wouldn't slip off her shoulders, she walked into TJ's backyard until she reached the tree just outside of his window. She pulled herself up onto the first branch, then the second, and keep going until she was sitting right outside of his window. The light was still on, so he was definitely home. Spinelli checked the window, but I was locked. She would have to wait until TJ showed up.
Which wasn't long at all. She couldn't even get her phone out of her pocket face enough to text him before her into his room. It looked like he just came out of the shower, only sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a towel he was using to dry his hair, unaware of her presence outside of his window.
. . .Did she really have to let him know she was here right away? Sure, she would be kind of a creeper doing it, but when was the next time she was going to get a view like this? Was that the 'Ashley' in her speaking? Probably. Was she still going to do it? Well, did it count if he didn't notice?
Hmm, TJ's been working out. When the hell did that happen?
When he finally turned around and saw her sitting outside, he jumped from surprise. He came over and opened he window.
"You scared me, Spin," TJ said, leaning on the windowsill.
"Sorry, didn't mean to," she apologized. "Can I still come in?"
"Yeah, you can always come in. Gimme your hand."
With TJ helping her keep her balance, Spinelli slowly climbed from the branch in through the window. She let her bag drop to the floor.
"Geez, Spinelli, what the hell happened to you?" Se head him ask.
"What?"
"You look like you just went toe-to-toe with Mike Tyson," he said. While she sat on his bed, he went to his closet and pulled out a small first-aid kit. She folded her arms and rolled her eyes.
"The first-aid kit, Teej? Really?" She scoffed. "You're overreacting."
"Spinelli you're bleeding," he said. He joined her on his bed, and started digging through the plastic case for what he needed. "I'm hardly overreacting."
"I am?"
"See? You didn't even know," said TJ. He brushed back part of her bangs covering the wound. Though the bleeding had stopped and the blood that ran from I and down the side of her head had dried, she still felt a sting when his fingers brushed around the cut. "So what happened?"
"It must've been from when I had a match with a new chick. She was built like a fucking house so she probably thought she would win against me easily," Spinelli explained. She winced when TJ started to clean it with a cotton ball dabbed with alcohol. It burned, but she sucked it up. A cut drenched with sweat didn't bode well for not having an infection. She dealt with that before on her arm, though luckily a round of anti-biotics took care of that quick. "But I showed her! I took a couple rounds, but she won't come challenging me again anytime soon. Ow!"
"Sorry," he said. He tossed the now bloody cotton ball in the nearby trashcan. "It's not a big cut. I think it just bled a lot because it's on your head. I'm glad you won, but I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you beat up and covered in cuts and bruises."
"It comes with boxing, Teej. And I'm no planning on quitting anytime soon," Spinelli said, rubbing her upper arms. Small spots ached a bit when she ran her fingers over them. New and fading bruises. There were even more on her stomach, but she wasn't willing to quit something she loved over a few minor injuries.
"I know. I just don't like seeing you hurt, Spin," said TJ. "You staying over?"
"You don't mind, do you? My parents are visiting my aunt across town 'cause she's about to have her baby any day now," Spinelli said. "I didn't go because I would only get in the way."
"Of course, you can stay. You're always welcome over," he said. "Your stuff is still where you put it."
"Thanks." Spinelli walked to his dresser and crouched down to reach the bottom drawer. She opened it, and the small collection of her clothes and pajamas still sat, folded. It wasn't exactly an uncommon thing for her to sleep over at TJ's house, whether or purpose or just falling asleep without meaning to. Rather than bringing over clothes every time, she decided to keep some over for whenever she spent the night. "I gotta take a shower, though."
"Yeah, that would be a good idea."
"Oh, so you're saying I stink?"
"You said it, not me," he said. She playfully hit him with the small pile of pajamas she pulled out.
"Jerk," she said jokingly. "My soap and junk is still under the sink, right?"
"Yep."
"Great." Spinelli stepped into the bathroom attached to TJ's bedroom. It was spotless, not a single smudge of grime or sign that anyone came out of it. "Wow. It's clean."
"I just cleaned it like an hour ago," he called from the bedroom. Right as she sat her clothes on the counter, TJ came in with a towel. "Need anything else?'
"Nah, I'm good, thanks," she said, taking the towel. "Now can I get some privacy?"
He left, closing the bathroom door on his way out. Right then. She noticed how gross she felt from all the sweating from earlier. Turning on the shower, the bathroom soon filled with steam. She jumped in the shower, taking a well-deserved shower.
. . .
The two of them ended up in the living room on the couch, watching some old movie that happened to be on TV at the moment. The remaining two pieces of pizza sat on the coffee table growing cold after the decided they both had enough. Spinelli sat with her phone next to her, occasionally vibrating as her mother sent her pictures or her new cousin.
"You'd think it was my mom who had a baby," Spinelli said. She sunk further into the couch. "She keeps sending me pictures."
"Really? Can I see?" TJ asked.
"Why?" She asked, unlocking her phone without looking.
"I just wanna see," he said. The movie they were watching was quickly forgotten. Then again, it wasn't that interesting in the first place. "I love babies."
"You're weird. Here." She handed him her phone with the text messages with the pictures her mother sent open. She sat back, watching him scroll through the pictures.
"It's not that weird is it? Babies are awesome. They're so tiny," said TJ. As he scrolled through the pictures, more continued to come in. Based on the color of the blanket the baby was wrapped in, they assumed the baby was a girl.
"For a guy, it's kinda weird. And I wouldn't call a screaming ball of spit up and poop awesome," said Spinelli.
"Well I dunno about the crying part. Babies don't cry when I hold them. And they can't help everything else," he said. He handed the phone back to her before taking the remaining pizza into the kitchen. Spinelli looked at the phone when it vibrated again. Yet another message from her mother. The baby was definitely a girl, and her name was Grace. "It's crazy that we all used to be that small. Tell your aunt if she ever needs a babysitter, I'm here. I'm great with babies. I even have references."
"I can, but my aunt is super clingy when she has a baby. She's wouldn't let the most qualified babysitter help," she said. "Are we done with this movie? We've been watching it for an hour and I have no idea what's going on."
"Me too. I'm ready to go to bed," TJ said, returning with a bottle of water in hand. "What about you?"
"Same," Spinelli said. She grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned the TV off. She followed TJ upstairs and into his room. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she was ready to crawl into bed. She came back into his bedroom, tying her hair into a bun so it wouldn't bother her while she slept, but it would probably come out sometime in the middle of the night, like it always did. When she came back, she saw TJ standing at his dresser, tossing back a pill before swallowing it down with water.
"What's that?" She said. He turned to face her.
"What's what?"
"You know what. That pill. What're you sick or somethin'?" She asked, siting on his bed.
"Technically, I guess. But it's whatever. It doesn't matter," said TJ. He turned the lights off, but the moon still shined through the curtains.
"It matters to me! I'd wanna know if you were sick," Spinelli said as they climbed into bed. She laid on the side facing the wall. "C'mon, tell me."
"Do you really wanna know?"
"Yes!"
"Alright, if you have'ta know," he said. He paused, and Spinelli watched him as he thought of the right words. The light coming through the window reflected off his blue eyes, and it became a little, or a lot, harder at him for keeping a secret like this. She noticed a brown ring on the edge of iris that she was sure wasn't there before. "The summer before we came to high school. Between middle school and high school, after the six of us stopped hanging around each other. Right before school let out, I got sick."
"Yeah, I remember that. You weren't at school the last couple of weeks," she said.
"'Cause I was in the hospital. My liver was failing and the doctors couldn't figure out why. It came out of nowhere," he explained. "I was perfectly fine before it, and there wasn't a family history of it happening or anything."
"Why didn't you tell me?! Your liver? That's serious!"
"You don't have to tell me, I lived it. They tried everything but I wasn't getting better. There were days that I couldn't move, I was so weak. Heh, I even thought that I was gonna die. Like I was mentally preparing myself for it. Then they finally figured it out. I have Wilson's disease."
"Wilson's disease?"
"Mm-hmm. It's genetic, like if both parents have the gene for it, then their kids have a higher chance of getting it. It's basically causes too much copper to build up in your liver and brain. So now, I have to take medication, and I have to limit how much mushrooms, chocolate, shellfish, and nuts I eat, but it's no big deal. After they figured it out, I was better in a couple of weeks. And Becky had to get tested, too. But I don't even think about it much now," he said. "I've got this weird brown ring around my iris from it, though."
"It's still serious, Teej. You should've told me! You were really sick and none of us knew about it or visited you," she said. "You could've died, dammit!"
"I know, but I didn't! I'm fine now. I don't even have any symptoms because of the medication I take, and I won't in the future. I'm fine, Spinelli," he said, trying to reassure her. "And it's not like I'm mad at you guys for not visiting. We weren't hanging together anyways."
"I know, but still! I would want to know. You better tell me the next time something happens, okay?"
"Okay. I promise, Spin. So that's half of what my medication is for—"
"There's more? What the hell, dude?"
"You wanted to know, so I'm letting you know now," he said, putting his hands up in defense. "This happened last summer, while I was staying with family in Germany for two months. Me and this group of guys I became friends with were in a park playing basketball. It was cloudy and a storm was supposed to roll in later, but we thought nothing of it. Then the next thing I knew I was on the ground and they were all asking if I was okay. I felt like I was hit by a truck, but I thought I was fine, it was weird. Turns out I was struck by lightning—"
"You were struck by lightning? What the fuck?!"
"I know, right? Bizarre. I brushed it off and kept playing, though," he said. "Then I passed out and woke up in a hospital. Turned out like five minutes after I got back up my heart stopped."
"The world has just been fucking you up, Teej," Spinelli said. She shook her head at the things that have happened to her friend without her knowledge. "Left and right. Jesus Christ, struck by lightning?!"
"I know, it's crazy. So I take medication for that, but it's just a muscle relaxer and pain killer. Without it my left arm spazzes out and I can't control when that happens. Hurts like a bitch, too. I was hit over my left shoulder blade, but it wasn't a direct hit. The medication sucks, but I have this awesome scar from it so I can't be too mad that it happened."
"Can I see?" she asked.
"Aww, right when I got comfortable. Alright, if you must," he said, pretending to whine. He sat up, and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her. Spinelli pushed herself up, sitting crosslegged as he pulled his t-shirt up and off.
First thing, back muscles. Her one weakness. But she embraced it shamelessly. Second, the scar. It started over his left shoulder blade: an oblong circle with a thick line that travelled down his arms and broke off into smaller and smaller jagged lines. There were a few spread out on his back, too, but they were much thinner. Pretty badass looking. She traced over it with her fingers. Whenever she paused for a few seconds, she could feel his muscles twitching a bit.
"At least it looks cool," she said. "You were struck by lightning. But you're just so casual about it."
"That's the only way I can look at it. I survived, so it's not a big deal," said TJ. "So that's what those pills are for."
"You should've told us. Or me at least," she mumbled, her fingers slowly gliding over his scar on his back. "I know we stopped hanging out and everything, but I still cared about you and junk."
"I know. I'm sorry for not telling you, Spin," he said, putting his shirt back on. "But I'm fine, now. It's over with."
"Stop brushing it off like it's nothing! You almost died, twice, and none of us were there with you!" She said. He voice trembled, and she clenched her fists as her eyes began to burn with rising tears. "You could've died and you're like the only person who I can really open up to! You better tell someone if you're on your deathbed again anytime soon!"
"I will, okay? I promise," he said. He turned around to face her. "Please don't cry, Spin."
"I'm not crying, I just upset," Spinelli said, wiping away her ears before they fell. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yep! Just have to take the medication and I'm perfectly fine."
"Good. 'Cause I like having you around, dude," she said. "That was a lot. Can we go to sleep now?"
. . .
When Spinelli woke up in the middle of the night, the first thing she noticed that something was laying on her waist, and she definitely didn't want to move. It was the weekend, right? That meant staying in bed, especially since she didn't have anything to do. Homework could wait, and she deserved a day to simply relax and be lazy. But still, going back to sleep right away wasn't going to happen as I slipped just out of her fingers.
The blanket covering her was extra soft, and someone would have to be dying to get her out of it. There was also something heavier on her waist. Always sleeping with her arms above her waist, she didn't feel like moving to figure out what it is. Grudgingly, she opened her eyes, if only for a few minutes. Still in the relatively same position she fell asleep in, she saw that the weight was just TJ's arm.
He wasn't holding on to her or grabbing her or anything. It seemed like it happened on accident. It was just a twin bed after all. It felt nice, though. Gave her a nice 'safe' feeling. She wasn't gonna pull away anytime soon. A part of her was curious if it what the girls at school said about him giving the best hugs was true. The guy was built like a lumberjack, kinda. Short, muscles, but still had a bit of tummy. Maybe his hugs were nice.
She was thinking about this too much. Time to go back to sleep.
…
The feeling of food coming up the same way it went in woke Spinelli up early in the morning. In a rush to get to the bathroom, she punched and kicked her way out of bed. She barely made it in time to avoid chucking her cookies on the bathroom floor. She retched, not bothering to pull her hair back. Still tired, she sat on the edge of the bathtub.
Ugh.
Was this really happening now?
If someone told her that she was being stabbed, repeatedly, in her lower stomach, Spinelli would be pressed to believe them, as the smallest movement made the pain travelled throughout her body. She trembled slightly, partially from vomiting, partially from the reason she desperately wanted birth control.
"You okay, Spin?" She heard TJ ask in the doorway.
"No," he mumbled. "Did I hit you?"
"Yeah, kinda. You have a really good kick, but it's whatever," he said. He came over, and pulled her hair out of her face and back into a ponytail. "So is this because the pizza isn't agreeing with you, or. . .?"
"Yeah, that," she said. "I feel like I'm dying."
"I'm sorry you feeling like you're dying. I was gonna go to the sore when I woke up anyways, but I might as well go now. Do you need anything?" He asked.
"Can I text it to you?" She asked.
"Yeah, sure." He said, patting her back. "There's aspirin in the medicine cabinet, okay?"
She groaned an affirmative response. While she struggled to keep the remaining contents of her stomach down, she listened to the sound of him moving around in the room before he left. At least it was the weekend, and she wasn't expected to go to school. Everyone was 5 times as annoying on her period, and it was a miracle she didn't deck someone and break a nose.
She picked herself back up, returning back to the bedroom. She pulled out a clean pair of pajamas out of her reserved drawer, basketball shorts and an old t-shirt, and went back into the bathroom. Clawing under the bathroom sink, she pulled out the almost empty box of tampons. Welp. At least she wasn't completely empty handed. She picked her phone up, and sent a text.
Another shower was urgently needed, if only to help her muscles relax. She would've taken the aspirin beforehand, but without anything in her stomach, aspirin only made her stomach hurt. She could go for a nice thick slice of pound cake. Not to flavorful, but still had a bit, with plenty of body to fill her up.
A lemonade to wash it down.
Maybe with a side of vanilla ice cream.
And skittles.
A chocolate bar too. White chocolate.
And Laffy Taffy.
And Gummi bears
Or sour gummi worms
Or a donut. Glazed. Or plain. Or chocolate. Or jelly.
. . .
Somewhere in a store in town, TJ's phone was being bombarded with texts.
. . .
The smell of breakfast food stirred Spinelli out of her sleep. She looked at the clock, and saw that she had only slept for an hour and a half. Still, her stomach ached, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. The food did smell good though. Maybe she could make an exception and go downstairs to eat? She moved her legs out from the fetal position, and the pain ached again.
Maybe not.
No.
She had to get up and move around. That's the only thing that helped the pain go away. She pushed herself up, groaning as she sat on the edge of the bed. One more push, and she was up on her feet, but slouching. Good thing it was a Saturday. Absolutely nothing productive will be getting done by her. She went downstairs, the smell of food getting stronger as she went. There was definitely bacon involved, and she was in the mood to eat all the bacon. When she turned into the kitchen, TJ placed a plate of pancakes on the table.
"Hey, Spinelli. Still feeling like you're dying?" TJ asked.
"Not as much. I'm more hungry than anything right now," Spinelli said. She plopped in one of the seats and used a fork to stab a few pancakes and bring them to her plate. With one hand she poured syrup and with the other took half the bacon. Usually a bowl of cereal would be enough to satisfy her on the weekend, but it was nice having someone else make breakfast was nice. "Thanks for breakfast, dude."
"No problem. Your stuff is on the counter," he said joining her at the table. While chewing, Spinelli looked up from her plate. Like he said, there were three filled plastic bags sitting on the counter.
"You really bought all that stuff I asked for?" She asked. "Don't tell me you actually did."
"Mm-hmm. The ice cream's in the freezer and the lemonade is in the fridge."
"Aw, Teej you didn't have to do that. I was only half serious when I sent those," Spinelli said. "I was just being hungry and hormonal."
"It's no problem. As long as it makes you feel better," he said. "I have no idea what it's like, but I can try to make you happy through it."
"Well thanks, anyways. I appreciate it, dude. And so will my cravings," she said, taking a bite of syrupy pancakes.
. . .
Laying on the couch while leaning a bit over the edge of the arm, Spinelli watched her friend in the kitchen, mopping the floor. Sleep wasn't something that was going to come back to her anytime soon, and with nothing much on TV, it was the only thing she could think of doing. It wasn't a bad thing: it let her mind roam, and she even got a few ideas for paintings that she noted down on her phone for later.
"I mean I get cleaning up after making breakfast, but what's with the mopping?" Spinelli asked. She adjusted her position on the couch.
"My mom asked me to clean the house while they're gone, so I'm trying to get that done," he explained, moving the chairs out of the way. "Rather get it over with now while it's early."
"Dude, what the fuck?"
"What?"
"It's Saturday. The one day of the week that is meant to sleep in and be lazy, but you're up before 9, cleaning," Spinelli said. "Just like mummy asked. When did you get so. . .responsible?"
"You act like it's the end of the world, Spin. I'm just cleaning," TJ said. He left the mop and bucket in the corner and joined her on the couch. "It's not that weird, is it? I have nothing else to do so I might as well get it over with."
"A little bit. Mama's boy," she said, teasingly. "And for someone who used to raise hell on a regular basis, it is. Hmmh. Maybe that lightning strike rearranged something in your head." She chuckled a bit, not seriously meaning what she said. It didn't take her longer than a few seconds to notice he wasn't laughing along. She looks at his, seeing the thoughtful and distant look on his face.
"Sometimes I think about that," he said. "I mean it's not unheard of for that to happen."
"I didn't mean it, Teej. I was just joking!"
"I know. It's nothing. I'm overthinking things," he said, standing up. "I should get to cleaning upstairs."
"You need any help?"
"Nah, I'm fine. You should relax," he said, going to the hall closet. He pulled out a vacuum and headed upstairs. "What are you gonna do?"
"Probably take a nap. I feel kinda useless not helping out," Spinelli said. "You sure you don't want me to help out just a little bit?"
"I'm sure." He said from the top of the stairs. She slouched on the couch, unwilling to move. A nap sounded like a good idea, even with the vacuum running. That never bothered her much; it was like white noise. Candy was a good idea, too. Forcing herself off the couch, Spinelli headed into the kitchen where her three bags of goodies sat. She dug through them all, and every single thing she texted TJ that she wanted was in there. She even went through her messages to check out of curiosity. Every single thing.
"Guys too sweet for his own good," she said, opening a bag of Skittles. "Way too sweet."
As she popped a small handful of the rainbow candy in her mouth, she heard the vacuum roaring upstairs. Being in such a clean house made her want to go clean her pit of a room. It wasn't even hat bad but according to her mom it wasn't acceptable. At least she didn't have rotting food in there buried underneath her bed. It could always be worse. But whatever. Today's a day to be a lazy piece of shit, and, in her particular case, having a sweetheart to dote on you. And dammit she was going to enjoy it. After a few more handful of candy, she headed upstairs.
. . .
When Spinelli woke up from her nap, she was grasping and snuggling into the plushiest of pillows on the bed. As comfortable as it was, I wasn't enough to make her happy, and right now, her being happy was her priority. As much as all the candy and cakes and other junk food did to satisfy her craving, right now, she could do without anymore. At least at the moment. The weight of the blanket over her helped her figure out exactly what she wanted.
She wanted a hug.
At the bare minimum. She hated to admit it but a good cuddling session might make her feel a lot better, and less like her organs were being gutted out. Damn hormones. She slumped out of bed, still holding that pillow, and headed downstairs. Looking in the kitchen, den, and living room, she didn't find TJ anywhere. Did he go out somewhere? Then she heard a how humming sound coming from the basement.
She stood at the open door leading into the basement. It always creeped her out a little, both as a kid, and even now, though it was relatively well-lit. She was able to see TJ standing at the washing machine. Once he closed he op and turned I on, he turned and was surprised at her sudden appearance.
"Geez, Spin. You've gotta stop sneaking up on me like that," he said, coming up the stairs. "You're gonna give me a heart attack. You okay?"
"No," she mumbled into the pillow.
"Why not?"
"I wanna hug," Spinelli said. Seeing the somewhat surprised look on his face, she rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look. I wanna hug okay? It'll make me feel better and it's free. You gotta problem with that or somethin'?"
"No! It's just that you don't go around asking for hugs," he said, closing the basement door.
"Well now I am! Besides, girls at school say you give the best hugs, so help me out with this."
"I wondered why they always come up to me asking for hugs. That was really random," TJ said. Spinelli whined, rocking on her feet with a mixture of a scowl and pout. "Alright, if it'll help you feel better, I'll give you a hug."
"Thanks." Spinelli dropped the pillow, tossing it out of the way. When he opened his arms, she came closer, wrapping her arms around him, and he did the same. She rested her head on his chest. With his arms around her holding her close to him, I was like the rest of the world melted away, along with everything she had to worry about, all gone with one comfy, protective, not too tight, not too loose hug. She blinked. "Oh my God."
"What?"
"It's totally true. You do give the best hugs," she said. She pulled out of the hug, leaving him confused. She hugged him again. "It's like I'm being cradled."
"Haha, really? That's nice to know."
"TJ?"
"Yeah?"
"I wanna cuddle. You're a good hugger and I don't wanna stop hugging you," she said looking up at him being all confused at her behavior.
"Are you always like this on your period?" he asked.
"Yes. Are you gonna lemme cuddle or not?" She asked, whining. "I wanna be comfy."
"Yeah, yeah, sure. On the couch?" He asked. She nodded against his chest, and he took this as a signal to pick her up and bring her into the living room. Making sure the remote was in reaching distance, he laid on the couch on his back, with her on top of him.
They spent the rest of the afternoon like that, on the couch, watching mindless TV or flipping through the channels for something decent to watch. Spinelli rest her head on his chest, relaxing at the sound of his heartbeat. It was nice just being held like that without any sexual undertones. Unlike her ex-boyfriend who couldn't keep his hands to himself, leading to their breakup.
How did he even get to date that guy in the first place? They were both into art, and he stayed after school somedays to work in the art room, like she did from time to time. He was cool for the most part. Not taking school and the drama that came with it too seriously, not getting wrapped in the world of cliques that had broken up their respective group of friends. A few conversations that carried into the next day and they were comfortable around each other, enough for him to ask her out.
Ah well. He wasn't like what she thought he would be. And how long did relationships in high school last anyways? It wasn't like they were gonna get married or anything. Who would marry that creep, anyways? Stupid jerk and his stupid smirk and that stupid dump gap in his front teeth and that stupid laugh. . .
"Woah, Spin. You okay?" TJ asked. Spinelli nodded, wiping the ears that swelled up in her eyes. She wasn't about to cry right now. Nope. Nope. Nuh-uh.
"I'm fine," she said, sobbing. She sat up, moving to the opposite end of the couch.
"It doesn't look like it. What's the matter?" He asked.
"It's nothing. It's stupid," she said, wiping away her tears before they went past her eyes. "No, it's not stupid. What's stupid is that dumb stupid idiot ex-boyfriend of mine!"
"Jason?"
"Ugh! I can't even stand the sound of his name! He ruined that name for me!" She said. "God, I could punch him right in his stupid fucking nose right about now! Fuck that guy! He doesn't know what he's missing out on anyways. . .I'm a great girlfriend!"
"I'm sure you are. Don't worry, Spinelli. You'll find a better boyfriend," said TJ.
"And he'll know to keep his hands to himself!" She said, smiling. "Thanks, TJ."
"No problem," he said. "You wanna pick what we watch?"
Spinelli nodded, and they returned to their previous position.
. . .
She didn't know when she fell asleep, but when Spinelli woke up, she was being carried, bridal style, up the stairs and probably into bed, if the time she remembered dozing off was any clue. She was surprised that the movement needed to get her into this position didn't wake her up, but as physically hurtful today was, she wasn't going to question it. Just lay down and sleep, just like she was doing essentially the whole day. But it was the weekend, so whatever.
So she settled on resting her head on TJ's shoulders. It was nice.
Knowing the path to his bedroom, she expected to turn right once they stopped climbing the stairs, but instead they took a left. Too tired to open her eyes and question why he was taking her to his sister's old room, and just let him. She was placed in bed and left to sleep alone.
. . .
In the morning, Spinelli was greeted with the absence of gut stabbing pain that descended upon her the morning yesterday. While a dull pain was still there, she was functioning well enough to get out of bed and make her own breakfast and maybe do some homework. If she wanted to, and she didn't.
She made her way downstairs, and spotted TJ sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal while scrolling through his phone.
"Morning," He greeted her. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good. I feel less like death," she said, passing him on the way into the kitchen. She returned, joining him with a bowl of cereal of her own.
"Any plans for today?" TJ asked. Spinelli shrugged.
"I'm in the mood to draw. Maybe I'll go across the street and pick up my sketchbook," she said. "What about you?"
"Homework. Should probably take like an hour."
"For which class?"
"Algebra II and biology. My best classes, so it's just getting it out the way," he said.
"You think you can help me with my math? I fucking suck at it but I'm not in the mood to fail the class," Spinelli said.
"Yeah, sure, no problem," he said. "How bad are your grades in math?"
"I'll just say I just managed to pass my last test by one point," said Spinelli.
"Oh, Spin. You should've come to me for help sooner before it got that bad. . ."
"Don't blame me! The teacher doesn't even teach how to do it, she just puts the problem up on the bored and does it without explaining anything! How's anybody supposed to learn like that?" She asked. "We'd all do better if were learned on our own than from that."
"Wow. I'm glad I never had that teacher," he chuckled. "Ever thought about going to Gretchen for help? She's part of the whole peer tutoring program thing."
"Nah. It'd be awkward. You know we don't hang out anymore, Teej. It'd be weird," she said. "Besides, I have you to help me out. Matter of fact, why aren't you part of that?"
"I'm already doing a bunch of other stuff. If I did that I wouldn't have time to relax," he said.
"Like what?"
"Debate club, volunteering down at the animal shelter, working part-time at the mall, sometimes they call me in to help out at my synagogue, and keeping my grades up. I don't have time for something like that. Especially something that takes up as much time as that."
"Geez, compared to that, I barely do anything at all," said Spinelli. "But with all that, yeah I wouldn't add anything else. But I'll go and get my stuff." She stood up, handing him her bowl as he walked into the kitchen.
Heading out, she took her gym bag along with her. Might as well, she figured, since she was stopping home anyways. The driveway to her house was still as empty as the day before. He parents would probably be back by tonight to give her aunt and uncle time with their new baby. She pulled out her house keys and unlocked the front door.
In her room, she dropped the bag near the pile of laundry that needed to be done and scanned the room for what she needed. Grabbing a tote bag, she grabbed her sketchbook, math textbook, notebook, a couple pencils off her desk. Feeling a little guilty about the state of her room, she sorted her laundry and tossed a load in before headed back over TJ's house.
Returning, she found him in the kitchen with his notebook and textbook already pulled out and ready to go.
"I'm letting you know, I'm a slow learner at this. So be patient, alright?" She said as she sat at the table.
"Yeah, sure. We've got all day," TJ said. "Just show me where you're having trouble."
. . .
How anyone made it past her current math class was a complete mystery to Spinelli. Just understanding what the hell the chapter title meant was challenge enough. Still, there were students who passed and moved on to Algebra II, Trig, Pre-Cal, Cal, and honestly? Anyone who went past Trig needed to have some sense into them. Especially if they did it for fun because who would think about going past what was necessary? Unless they were sadists.
It was enough that they added letters to math, but now they wanted to add "imaginary" shit. Weren't the letters supposed to be the imaginary part?
". . .Since 'i' is the square root rot of negative one, 'i' times 'i' equals negative -1. So if you see the square root of a negative number, you find it just like it was a positive number, but with an 'i' next to it. Like the square root of -9 would be 3i. Complex numbers are a step up from that, adding more real numbers. It's in the form of a+bi, and a and b are the real numbers, like 5+6i, the real numbers would be the 5 and the 6."
Spinelli had stopped processing what TJ was trying to explain to her a while ago. Poor guy was really into trying to explain this junk to her that she didn't have to heart to stop him. He was a good teacher, she'd admit, and it wasn't for a lack of detailed explanation, just lack of attention on her part.
"He'd make a good teacher one day," she thought. He had to find a way to keep people interested though. She was interested in what he was saying, but, as his friend, she had a huge bias. It reminded her of Mr. Dude back in elementary on his first day. He ended up fixing that and taught at the elementary school now.
But it was nice listening to his voice. It was easy on the ears, and overall soothing, almost making her forget about her nearly failing grade. Hmm.
…
Nope.
Nope.
Uhh-uhh.
No.
Abort mission.
Abandon ship.
She buried those feelings right before seventh grade and she's be damned if they sprouted up again goddammit. Nope, no way, not gonna happen. Nope. Nah. If she had to stomp them down with her boots again, then that's what the fuck she was going to do because she was not gonna fall for this guy again with his laugh and his back muscles and his freckles (seriously fuck those freckles) and his genuinely nice personality. Fuck this guy and fuck feelings.
"Are you getting this, Spin?" TJ asked her.
". . .No, sorry," She said. "It's not that you didn't make sense, I just zoned out."
"Ah, okay. See this is why I wouldn't make a good tutor," he joked. "Where'd you zone out at?"
"Around factoring."
"That's. . .a long time. Alright, factoring," he said. He flipped all the way back to the beginning of one of his old notebooks. "Factoring. First you have to find a number that all the variables have in common. Like in 2x^3+8x^2-4x, you can take a 2x out of each of those. . ."
. . .
By the end of their tutoring session, Spinelli could say to things. One, she had a better grasps of the concepts she was expected to understand in her math class. TJ, with his oh so generous self, let her borrow his old notebook from last year when he took the class. The guy must be brave if he was taking a class ahead of his year.
Second was that old feelings were starting to spring back up like ugly little weeds out of the ground of a carefully manicured lawn that she made sure nothing like this could sprout it's ugly little head. She made a mental note to find extra time to go down to the gym and beat the shit out of a punching bag.
Laying on the couch, she drew away in her sketchbook, occasionally taking a handful of gummi bears and stuffing them into her mouth. She was going to get this out of her mind if it was the last thing she did today. Drawing always helped her get lost in her thoughts and forget what she was upset about. Her art won a couple of competitions, she entered, or at least placed within the runner ups. So hey, if it helped her control her anger and won her competitions, then there was no harm in continuing doing it.
"Hey is that me?"
Spinelli glanced at TJ behind her before looking at what she was mindlessly sketching. It was in fact, a rough portrait of TJ.
God DAMMIT.
"No. No it's not you," she mumbled. She huffed and rolled her eyes and she roughly turned to a clean page.
"You sure? It looks like me," he said.
"Yes, I'm sure," she said. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing much. Just checking up on you," TJ said. "I'm about to go get a haircut. Didn't wanna just up and leave without you knowing why you're in my house by yourself."
"Wait, a haircut? I'm coming, too!" She said, closing her sketchbook. "I've been meaning to get my hair cut for months now."
"What, you don't like it long?"
"Nope. It's always in the way, and I always pin it up anyways, so I might as well have it short," she said. "My moms gonna flip but I figure if it get it done in something that looks nice it'll lessen the blow."
. . .
As much as she was willing to have her hair cut, there was still that slight anxious feeling that came with a pair of clippers snipping away at her hair that made Spinelli close her eyes. She could feel the weight of her hair becoming lighter along with the sound of scissor clipping near her ears. As soon as she said she wanted a haircut, they bombarded her with styles varying from medium length to short to very short, all that worked with her face and eye shape before settling on one she liked and wouldn't get her lectured.
"This is going to look so good on you," her stylist, Tori said. The direction of her voice shifted as she moved in front of her. "I'm just going to shape you bangs and then you'll look gorgeous."
"If you say so."
"I would kill for hair as long and thick as yours was! I just had to double check when you said you wanted it cut. But it's like that sometimes," Tori said. "Your boyfriend is gonna think you're so cute."
"Boyfriend?" She asked, peeking.
"Mmm-hmm. The boy you came in with," said Tori.
"Oh, he's not my boyfriend. . ."
"Hmm, that's too bad. You two would make a great looking couple. Short, but great looking."
"Thanks, I guess."
"Alright, I'm done," Tori said after he last few snips. She handed Spinelli a hand mirror. "Have a look."
Opening her eyes, Spinelli was happy to see that her long, bothersome hair was finally gone and replaced with a much shorter and easy to manage pixie cut, perfectly framing her face and matching her features. Now if her mom had a problem with this, then she had a problem because this looked damn great on her.
"You like?"
"I sure do," said Spinelli. She handed the mirror back. "Am I going to like the price?"
"Probably not."
She groaned, but reached to her pocket on her way to the front to meet up with TJ, who had been done for a while. It came up to 50 bucks, while she didn't like, but had to fork over with some reluctance. Welp, it wasn't going to be free, and she couldn't do it herself.
"Wow, Spin. You look a lot different with your hair that short," said TJ as they headed out.
"That's what I was aiming for, Teej," she said, playfully nudging him. "You didn't get anything different."
"It was mostly a trim," he said. "You look cute."
". . .Thanks." She turned away, willing away her rising blush. It was a sweet compliment that she could easily take as meaning something more. But TJ, the poor guy, as sweet as he was, was so damn dense when it came to girls, that she knew better than to assume anything deeper than a complement between friends.
She remember one time, in excruciating detail, how that Ashley A. came up to him one day and shamelessly flirted with him, right in front of her. It did make her happy that TJ just talked to her like any other day, seemingly oblivious to Ashley A's advances. That was funny to watch, but she did feel just a little bad for Ashley A. She had an unrequited crush on the guy, too and it fucking sucks.
. . .
Arriving home, Spinelli spotted her parents car in the driveway. Finally back from visiting her aunt. Her mom probably couldn't wait to talk to her about the new baby and gush about how cute Grace was. Oh well. Might as well get that over with.
"I think I should head home, before my mom starts calling me to ask where I am," Spinelli said. "But it was nice spending the weekend with you, Teej."
"Yeah it was nice hanging out like this. We should do this more often," he said.
After grabbing my stuff and saying goodbye, she headed towards her own house. She braced herself before going inside for her moms reaction. Her dad would, more than likely, be alright for the change. Her mom, however, the woman has be adamant about her becoming more feminine, and this was one more nail in the coffin for that goal.
She had to face that reaction sometime; she couldn't hold it off forever. Opening the door, she followed the sound of her mothers voice into the kitchen.
"Hey mom, dad. I'm back," she said.
"Oh, hi dear! Come and see these pictures of your new little cousi—" Her mother was cut short when she turned to look at her. She dropped her phone and gasped. "What in the world did you do to your hair, Ashley?" She nearly shouted as she stood out of her seat.
"I, uh, cut it," Spinelli tried. "Do you like it?"
"Why in the world would you cut your long beautiful hair?" He mother cried.
"It was getting in the way. And I always had it in a ponytail anyway," she tried to reason. "It might as well stay short."
"Well. . ." he mother sighed, calming down from her initial reaction. She stepped back, taking another look at her daughter with this new haircut. "It does nicely frame your face. That style is in right now. And it's not like I can glue your hair back on your head."
"Thanks, mom!" She hugged her mother. Leaving her bag of junk food in the kitchen, she headed upstairs.
I'm bad at ending chapters please forgive me.
I would like to say thank you to JACK5T3R, another writer whose work I quite enjoy, and paupi121 for their reviews. I'm sorry that I couldn't get this chapter up sooner. I was too busy with college and finals to work on it. The next chapter should come sooner.
Reviews are highly motivating!
