Diary of Secrets

Calum thought soccer was everything.....until he read Sam's diary.


2. Busy Days, Lead to Longer Nights

The wind soared past my face, as I ran drills on the soccer field. My heart raced loudly, I could hear the thumps in my ears. As my legs ran around and through the orange cones, warm sweat slid down my scalp onto my neck. Breathing through my nose, I could keep myself steady. Just a few more laps, I knew I could push myself. If I can just go through this, in the allotted time, I'd ace this physical.

"Calum!" I could hear my name being called.

But I couldn't look away, I'd lose focus and ruin this. My legs were jelly, and I still needed to run this four more times. After this was the knee kicks, and I knew they had to be on point. This is the only way, I can make a name for myself.

"Calum Hood!!" they screamed again, this time more urgent.

"Yeah!" I answered without looking up.

Turning around, I ran through the course again. This time my breathing was more labored, as my focus was deterred.

"Son, I need you to come here!" shit.

It was coach, and I wasn't through yet. If I stopped now, I knew my body would relax, then I wouldn't be able to continue.

Huffing momentarily, I leaned forward letting the sweat drip from my hair. Swallowing the lump in my throat, from dehydration, I returned to my standing position. With everything I could muster, my legs ran me over toward coach Welsh. He had a stern look on his face, but not a pissed one. Looking around, I notice I'm still the only one here. But the light purple in the sky, suggests that it's getting late. With my arms slowly moving down to my sides, I attempt to retrieve my breath as I stand in front of him.

"Young man, do you realize you should've been home hours ago?" he asks accusingly, breathing in through my nose I shake my head no.

"Look, I can see you're training. As your teacher, I admire that in you as my pupil. But as a father myself, I also know you should be getting rest. We've got that annual physical." one of his eyebrows raises, while he looks toward the ground. He's lost in thought for a moment, before I speak his mind.

"In less than a week sir." swallowing down air, I watch while his gaze returns to me.

"In less than a week!" he shouts before sighing.

With my breathing retained, and my legs locked in place, I feel my muscles relaxing slightly. Mr. Welsh rests his hand on my shoulder, and squeezes lightly. Causing me to realize, my muscles are knotted up.

"Just promise me, you'll get home before supper?" he asks softly, staring at me with worried eyes.

"Yeah coach, promise." he nods releasing his grip from me. Sighing contently, he turns away and heads toward the teachers parking lot. Once he's out of ear shot, I groan before falling backward on my butt. Laying my arms over my knees, I hang my head forward. Allowing myself two minutes to rest, I stay like this focusing on calming my still rapid heartbeat.

The wind rushes over me, making me cold as my sweat soaked clothes, stick to my skin. With a huff, I get up and walk across the field, toward the doors leading inside. My mind races with what I should be doing. Stuffing my dirty uniform, into my gym bag I close my locker door and head out into the halls. It's silent, besides my continuous footsteps echoing across the walls. I want to pass out anywhere, but if I do I won't get back up again. I'm so physically exhausted, groaning from fatigue I push the front door of the school open.

With my book bag hanging over one shoulder and my gym bag over the other, it takes everything for me to continue trekking forward. I wonder what I can do to give myself more stamina. Maybe I can purchase some energy tablets from the drug store. I'd love to be able to stay awake long enough, to watch a movie or something. Thinking back over the last few weeks since school started, I try to remember the last movie trailer I watched. All that comes to mind is Shailene Woodley and something about stars. Vaguely remembering, how awkward it must've been filming with tubes in your nose. Shaking my head in defeat over the loss of the movie title, I grin remembering Sam. Knowing she would've remembered it, she'd also scold me for not grabbing a water.

Unlocking my car awkwardly, due to the bags constantly getting in my way. I reach over opening the back door, throwing my bags inside on the seats. I can feel the wind hitting my lower back, as my shirt lifts slightly while I reach inside my book bag. Finally grabbing my phone, I reach in my gym bag, to dig out my hoodie shutting the car door after. Placing my phone on the hood of my car, I bring the sweater over my head, putting it on. A warm shower sounds good, and my bed along with some food. As if answering along to my thoughts, my stomach growls, to tell me I should eat. Retrieving my phone off the hood, I tuck it inside my hoodie pocket, before sitting in the driver's seat.

Driving home, I wonder what the guys are up to. Ash said something last week about a date, but didn't clarify. Maybe I should ask him, but I lost touch with Luke and Michael hates me, after what I've done to Sam. It's not that I don't want to talk, or hang out with her. But it's hard to chill anywhere, or with anyone since school started. Then when the weekend hits, I'm so busy catching up on school work, I can't do anything else. Or anyone else for that matter, man I miss sex. It was such a stress release, sure you were sore momentarily but the euphoria during, was worth it. Pulling into my driveway, I climb out. grab my bags and walk inside my house.

"I'm home!" I yell before heading up the stairs down the long tan hallway.

"Glad to hear honey, food will be done shortly. Make sure you wash up!" mom yells as I ascend the steps.

"Ok!" walking into my room, I tossed my bags on the floor before laying down. Scrolling through my phone, to see what I missed. A phone call from mom, eight new messages, and a tagged photo on Facebook. After liking the picture, and replying back to all my messages I think about messaging Sam. Bringing up our old messages, I look at our last texts we sent one another.

'Can you make it today?'

'Coach said I can stay late and practice. Might be a while. :/'

'I don't mind. :)' she didn't either. I knew that, but I got too comfortable with that idea. So when I kept missing meet ups, it lead to a pretty bad last exchange of words.

'Hey, I get you're busy. But I could really use my best friend today. Can you try to make it? Please? Even if it's 10 minutes Cal.' I had read it, but didn't respond right away. I was too busy focusing on my timings, and how I could train to tighten them up. A few hours later I answered,

'Really tired Sam, I'm sorry.' even I want to punch myself.

Resting my phone on my stomach, I tighten up. It's no wonder Sam stopped trying, I would to. Looking at my screen again, I start to type a new message.

'Hey. Sorry I've been distant....wanna try tomorrow?' before I erase it and start again.

'If I said you could punch me tomorrow, would you come?' it's not what I'm really thinking, and I erase it once more. Sighing, I write once more

'I miss you.... <3' but like before I erase it again. Closing my phone up and grabbing a clean pair of boxers, with sweat pants. I wished I could send any one of those messages to her. But she probably wouldn't want to talk to me, let alone see me. I'd love to hear her voice again though. It always got raspy, whenever she was really comfortable.

Stepping into the shower, the hot water hits my back and I wince. It burns against my cold skin, feeling like I'm on fire. My toes in the water, have the same feeling washing over them. Washing my hair, I close my eyes facing the shower head. Letting the warm water hit my face, I open my mouth to breathe under the running water. Sometimes, I wish I could stay under here forever. Letting the warm water, relax all my muscles and temporarily allowing me to forget my stresses. But eventually the water runs cold, and my fingers shrivel up in prunes. Reminding me I have to step out into the cold air, to face reality again.

After finishing up in the shower and heading downstairs, I sit down at the dinner table. Clutching my sleeves on my sweater, I wait patiently as my mother makes our plates.

"Took a while in the shower, you ok lil bro?" Mali questions. I lift my head up momentarily, to meet her gaze when I answer

"The warm water felt good today. I was cold when I came home, so stepping into the hot water was relaxing." she smiles warmly, before passing my plate over to me.

"I know how you feel, there are some days, when I wish I could shower like five times in a day. But sadly that'd cost too much, and my hair would never dry then." she laughs at herself, and my family joins in. Smiling, I dig in to my food shoving my spoon into my mashed potatoes.

"How was soccer practice today Cal?" my father asks as I bring the spoon into my mouth. Swallowing the food after I move it around my mouth a few times.

"It was good, I almost made it through the whole course. Then it got late and coach wanted me to head home. So I gave in, and decided to go home." picking up my knife and fork, I begin the process of cutting the piece of chicken, into tiny pieces. My father grunts in reply, before answering

"Just remember if you want that scholarship, they pay attention to the physical first. Not how many goals you can make." and bringing a spoonful of carrots into his mouth. Sighing in response, I nod slowly as my mother answers

"Frankly, I'm glad you did come home. You work yourself too hard. You're still a boy and you have to take care of yourself. You don't want to overwork yourself and then something like your knees giving out happens." she smiles gently adding salt to her potatoes.

"I know mom." I reply, before sticking a piece of chicken in my mouth with my fingers. Somehow my appetite isn't as urgent as before.

With my parents babbling on about bills, they don't notice Mali squeeze my forearm under the table. Looking over at her, she half heartedly smiles at me. Sometimes, when I can't get through something I go to her. Now that Sam doesn't want anything to do with me, I can only count on Mali. Ash helps when he can, but the bond we had in middle school isn't there like it was. He's hanging out with new people, just like me. I don't expect him to be at my beck and call. But sometimes, like today, when my parents are driving me about the scholarship, it'd be nice to talk to someone else about it.

The next morning, I wake up to the alarm on my phone. Grabbing for it, I slide it off and jump out of bed still groggy. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I wait for my mother to check on me. On cue she opens my door asking

"Calum, you up sweetie?" until she sees me awake, then replies

"Good. Make sure you grab yourself something to eat. You'll need your strength for practice today." as I nod in response, she finally closes the door. Dressing in jeans and a simple white shirt, I head downstairs with my bookbag, realizing I didn't do any homework the night before. I just crawled into bed and crashed.

Parking into the school lot, my phone goes off. Reaching into my pocket, I pull it out and open the new message.

'Hey, have you heard anything about Sam?' it's from Ash and confused I answer back

'No. Why? What happened?' with my car off and my phone in my pocket again. I start to open my car door, but my thoughts are running all over the place. Did she transfer? I wouldn't blame her if she did, but she could've said bye. It's not a rumor is it? People are cruel, and I know a lot of them are on my soccer team. I try to distance myself from them, but they are on my team. I can't avoid them. I hope she doesn't think I did anything to get involved in it. God, what if she thinks I'm the one who started it?

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the car window. With a jump, I look over and see Ash's familar face. He's wearing his glasses today, and a sweater with black skinny jeans. The wind has made his curly hair a mess. Opening the door, I walk out and answer,

"Hey, what's going on?" he fidgets a little before looking around, to see if anyone is listening to us. Then he answers

"Sam's not doing too hot." confused I ask

"Is she sick? I haven't seen her around school lately. But we don't have any classes together, so I just assumed she was on the other side of the building." reaching into my back seat, I grab my gym bag and book bag. Closing the door, I look up as he answers softly

"No, Cal. She's not sick, she's depressed." my stomach drops.

"What do you mean she's depressed?" I lean against my car, with my arms crossed. He pulls on his sleeves, dodging my stare, as he replies

"She's been...." he looks around again.

"She's been what Ashton?!" he jumps slightly at my raised voice, before answering with a slight stutter

"Cal. S-She's been cu-cutting."

There's a silence between us, as what he's said processes. The only sound that wakes me from the shocked state I'm in, is the school bell signaling classes have started. Somehow, school seems so trivial, when I know my best friend is in pain and there's nothing I can do or say, that'll help her now. All I can think of is our friends, why couldn't she talk to Michael?They've always been close. Or Luke? She's always with him, and he seems to be getting closer to her as well. But no, she's purposely distancing herself off from others, to hurt them less. Whether Sam wants to see me or not, practice or no practice, I'm going to talk to her today.

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