The Broken Hearts Club

Please Don't Tell

    Speed was on my side today. It was good that I was fast, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to keep up with Joseph's long legs. He had exited the building, kept going until he turned into a pass-through. My mind told me to yell out his name, but my conscious screamed that we didn't know each other well enough to do that. It was also telling me that we didn't know him well enough to chase after him. 
    I didn't know why I had chosen to leave with him. Part of me wanted to see if he was okay after his little burst, Vicky would say I cared too much for strangers, and the other part felt the need to explain the other night. My jaw still ached and it hurt to talk. Luckily I was able to clean it up, cover it with makeup and hide it with my hair. Nobody would notice. Or at least I hoped they wouldn't. If they did, I'd lie and say it was an accident. I was pushed back to reality when my body collided with warm body. I hadn't noticed Joseph stopped in front of me. I went collapsing to the ground. The boy barely flinched.
    He stared down at me, pure anger burned into me, "What is your problem?"
    I climbed back to my feet, obviously embarrassed. I couldn't stand to look at his eyes without fear of myself melting, so I focused on the small crease between his eyes, "I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright?"
    Joseph groaned, "No, you can't come here and throw pity or sympathy or whatever at me, I'm not coming back to that freakin' stupid club."
    He started walking off but I quickly stepped in front of him, "I'm not, and the club isn't stupid, it really helps people."
    "I don't need help."
    "And that's okay," I smiled sweetly, "not everyone that goes needs help or is 'broken', the Club helps anyone with anything, the goal is to just make sure you're happy at the end of the day."
    His jaw stiffened, "Do I look happy to you?"
    "Well no," I said looking away from his forehead, "maybe you should attend more meetings and you'll see a difference!"
    "I knew you were just trying to get me to come back," he pushed passed me, "What, did my parents send you?"
    I continued next to him, I wasn't sure where he was heading but apparently I was going with him. We turned out of the pass-through. "Of course not, you don't have to go, but I think it'd help with your anger." When the last words slipped I immediately took them back.
    "Anger?" He stopped walking. The way he stopped, the way his fist clenched, it reminded me of Jackson. My feet stumbled backwards. I wanted to run and hide, but my legs wouldn't move. They were ready and expecting to be punched down. That horrified me. "Wouldn't you be angry if your parents didn't even care enough to ask or talk to you about your life but instead ship you off to therapy so my problems can be someone else's?"
    "So you admit something is wrong," I say softly, "I understand that, that must be really tough, but maybe you shouldn't look at it so badly and instead look at it as an opportunity."
    His fists loosed, the fire still in his eyes. Joseph started to walk off again, "Nothing is wrong with me."
    I was persistent. My feet allowed me to move again. He glared at me through the side of his eye, "Again, nothing has to be wrong, anybody can just come and talk."
    "Tell me,- what was it, Caroline?-" Joseph's tone was sarcastic but I nodded, "why are you there? Are you just there to talk?" I began to explain I was there for Vicky, but he cut me short, "You know, I bet you have a perfect life, perfect family, perfect boyfriend, perfect everything. A mom and dad who listen to your every whim and worry. You get whatever you want. And seeing how perfectly camouflaged your jaw is with the rest of your face, I'm guessing you did that so you could maintain your perfect image. Nobody can know the popular girl stumbled and got a paper cut," Joseph was stepping closer to me with every sentence, his whole body welling up with frustration, "It took me some time but I realized I know you. We went to High School together. You were always in Jackson's group. You are nothing but a girl who was voted to be prom queen and won. Congratulations, in ten year reunion you can go back with a detox and lip injections and no one will be able to tell a difference between 17 and 27. My guess is that you are only going to that stupid club to maintain a perfect, wholesome image. You have no idea what I am going through, so don't pretend to care. So just leave me the f..."
    His sentence bluntly stopped.
    All anger and fire had left his eyes.
    They were unreadable.
    Why was he staring so hard?
    That's when I felt a tear drip off my chin, onto my chest. It wasn't just one tear. My cheeks, jaw and chest were slipping away in murky, pale colored droplets. Makeup. My makeup was being washed away. I looked into the nearest window and saw myself. Streaks of bruises and red skin streamed down my face. 
    Joseph saw everything.
   


    I don't know when I started running or where I was running too. Everything started to blur from my tears. I couldn't breathe. 
    It felt I had been running for hours by the time I ran down an alley and hid behind a dumpster. My chest hurt so much and my calves burned. Somewhere along the line I had started hyperventilating. It was a panic attack. Breathe, that was the most important thing I needed to do. "Bre-breathe Caro-Caroline." I repeated multiple times. Attempting the 1-2-3-4 remedy. My legs gave in and I fell to the ground. Joseph saw my skin. He saw the bruises. 
    I shut my eyes tightly, resting my head against the old brick wall. Would he tell anyone? Who would he tell? Would he go back to the Club and tell everyone? If anyone knew... If Jackson knew that somebody knew... Joseph doesn't know it was Jackson. He doesn't know anything except that I have some bruises that could have been caused by anything. I could tell him they were like how woman randomly got bruises on their legs, but instead I got them on my cheeks. Gosh, that sounded so stupid. My eyes widened, what if he thinks I did it to myself to get attention? If he really thought I was such a spoiled brat then I'm sure he would.
    My phone was vibrating. I already knew it was Vicky. She would be freaked out with worry.
    I wanted to fall asleep. My head was spinning in circles. I felt dizzy. The cold, concrete ground suddenly looked so comfy. Was I still hyperventilating? I couldn't tell anymore. 
    There were footsteps. Whoever they were, they were running fast and heavily. I needed to get up and hide. No one could see me like this. 
    As hard as I tried, I couldn't get up. Instead my eyes grew heavier. 
    The footsteps grew louder but slowed down as they neared me.
    I tried to speak. The words wouldn't come out. 
    Strong arms wrapped around my back and legs, picking me up bridal style. I winced in pain and tried to protest. 
    "Stop fighting," a familiar voice said, but it was softer than before, "I'm trying to help you."
    "Pl-please don't t-tell," I told Joseph.
 
    Everything went black.