Love, Loathing, and Limelight

Chapter Seventeen

"Sara! Girl, calm down," Megan screamed. We were at the gym at two in the morning and practically had the whole place to ourselves. I had found my way over to the boxing bag. I love boxing, and I'm relatively decent at it. I box because sometimes I can convince myself that if I could only punch the bag so hard that it comes unhinged from the ceiling, it would take all my problems with it.

"I cannot calm down, Megan," I said between punches. "This is a reset," I told her. "I'm getting out everything that's been on my mind for the past couple of weeks so that tomorrow when I wake up, I will be a new and improved version of me. Sara 2.0. Or 3.0, or however many times I've done this."

"Yeah, but most people do their resets with a getaway weekend or a good cry," she tried to tell me.

"Why would I do that?" I responded. "Crying does nothing. A getaway weekend is expensive. Boxing is good exercise. Sara 3.0's going to be jacked."

"You're already jacked," she said, frustrated.

"I'm gonna be more jacked," I said, continuing to beat the crap out of the bag.

"Why can't we just talk about what's bothering you," she said, trying to calm me down and also probably trying to get me to leave. "We can go talk to my yoga teacher if you want? She listens to all my problems."

"I don't want to talk," I said aggressively.

"Do you wanna eat your feelings?" she suggested.

"Do I even need to answer that?" I responded, not missing a beat on my boxing bag.

"Have you been hanging out with Chris and Ari? Or anybody? What about that Noah guy that you met? Are you still talking to him?"

A dream came true at that moment. Only in my hysterical "what if" scenarios did I ever think I could do it, but the bag came unscrewed and hit the floor, and supposedly, my problems along with it. Megan was speechless.

"Alright," I finally said. "And I'm officially reset."

Back-to-school preparations kept me busy, and on the first day of my senior year, I sat in a class about English Literature, but all I could think about was an American actor named Noah Lancaster. It seemed like I thought about him every second. I couldn't seem to get him off my mind. I'd walk through the school, and I'd literally see his face in the lockers of some girls. I'd walk through the arts institute, see aspiring actors in their classes, and see him along with them. The only time I wasn't thinking of him was when I was dancing, so I had to be dancing all the time. I mean, I was trying to erase him from my summer entirely. I had to do whatever I had to do. If it gets him off my mind, I will do anything.

I was busting my ass, trying to get my life back. I was putting extra hours into practicing and extra hours at the gym because it seemed to be the only time when my future was clear and right in front of me. I was pinching that same spot on my arm every time there was a scary, anxiety-filled moment. I had developed a bruise there. In September, we started working on a project, and I was partnered with this guy I hardly talked to. I knew who he was. He was the school's football star and always wore his jersey on Fridays.

"Well, we've been in this class together for a month and haven't made introductions," he said. He had a pretty thick country accent. "I'm Cameron." He had dark skin but contrasting bright blue eyes. His hair was dark and wavy. He was built like a football player, obviously.

"Sara," I responded. "With no h." He laughed lightly and stared at me, biting his lip. "Okay, I think we should choose the Greek mythology legends. They have a lot of messages of lessons learned and constant themes and repetition." He didn't respond to that. Instead, he asked more questions about me.