The Bully
75. The Bully
🖤🖤🖤 West 🖤🖤🖤
—A few days ago—
I knew I was fucked up. It never bothered me. Apple doesn’t fall from the tree after all. Why expect something different?
I was friends with Natalie when she was dating Jake. Jake, the asshole, created hype for her in our team. Yea, that was the reason many of us, me included, got interested in her in the first place. It was easier for me to win her over. It didn’t bother me when some athletes made schemes to get in bed with her. I knew she was smart. Unfortunately, not smart enough to keep her distance from me.
I never realized how much she was into me until that party night… When we finally stopped talking. But I had to break things off… Things were getting messier. My own troubles were enough to keep me stressed and occupied. I didn’t need pressure from Natalie too. She was too observant. It could put her in danger, so it was necessary to shut her off and maintain some distance. I thought it wouldn’t bother me.
I have never been so wrong.
The first few weeks without her were the hardest. So I texted her. For the sake of our friendship, she should have reconsidered. I thought about everything. How I could keep her away from my mess, but still be around her. It took me days to muster the courage to contact her. It took me hours to type one simple message.
Me: ‘We could still be friends, Nat. I miss you. Riley misses you too… what’s point of ruining our friendship for a misunderstanding’
But she mocked the idea as if nothing mattered to her. My effort didn’t matter.
Nat: ‘I guess you miss fucking me. Don’t misinterpret your feelings West’
I was enraged.
She was just fine without me, and I missed her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It stung.
It always irked me when I saw her with someone. I hated when she talked to others and Riley while ignoring my sheer existence. So every comment, every insult I threw her way, was to get a reaction out of her. I preferred her hate than her cold-heartedness. I didn’t care when rumors and shit grew out of hand, isolating her more and more.
Anger simmered long enough in me to turn into full-blown hate.
Or so I thought.
I had an epiphany when I spent that hour with her playing games at Jacob’s place.
Things had never been easy in my life. But it felt bearable when she was around.
Spending time with her was like a breath of fresh air, and I wanted her back.
But would she even talk to me?
Her rejection over that text message still stung like a bitch. I went to talk to her, anyway. Her reaction this time... The way she was startled felt like a knife in my gut. It was a glimpse of what I had done to her.
Did I feel any regret?
Yes… But not for long.
Why?
‘Because I am good at deflecting.’
This is what this young lady sitting in front is suggesting.
“West!”
I look at her with disinterest and shrug. “Nothing comes to my mind.”
She chuckles. “You mean you have never deflected or cannot remember anything?”
“A little of both.”
That’s a stupid answer. I know.
I see a flicker of annoyance on her face and a smirk. I always thought she was a patient one.
“You think you are a smart ass. Ain’t you?”
I chuckle. I love when she swears and shows her real character sometimes. I wonder if she swears in front of other students, too. I understand her frustration. Usually, sessions are supposed to last 15 minutes. It’s a freaking school, not some professional therapy clinic, for God’s sake.
But we both are stuck with each other for 45 minutes every day. As if my coach and this counselor could power through my life towards a better good with these stupid sessions.
God, I regret that fight so much. Not that it was in my control, but my reaction to them made it worse. I was kinda upset after my encounter with Natalie in the closet. Opened my loud mouth at the wrong time.
And here we are… With a strained arm, bruised ribs, and a frustrated counselor.
“How do you know Natalie?”
I squint my eyes. “Why do you assume I know her?”
School is too big for her to notice or remember we were attached to the hip a year ago.
“Heard you guys talk in the waiting room.”
“Eavesdropping?” I cock my brow at her. I am surprised.
She shrugs.
Bold of her to admit. But she is bullshitting me. I barely spoke two lines to her, and she didn’t even answer me. That wasn’t a conversation, to be honest.
‘I am not following you around, if that’s what you are thinking. I have a life, you see.’ I had told her.I also told her to quit the act when she froze in her spot.
What did I ever do to her to act that way? To get startled or freeze on seeing me. I scoff internally, remembering that.
It’s all an act.
“Sometimes I wonder if this is some investigation of my bad deeds or really a counseling session…” I quip to the counselor.
She shrugs. “I have given up on you. Just trying to be nosy. Digging some gossip.”
I laugh.
Already?
God, I like her sometimes. I doubt she feels the same way about me. But I feel she has a soft spot for Natalie. I didn’t even know Natalie came here.
“How long Natalie has been coming here?”
And why? I wonder to myself.
“I am not supposed to share that…”
I tilt my head at her.
“Maybe if you do... I could share some spicy news you crave.”
She glances at her watch. We still have a long way to go. She answers after giving it a thought, “Ever since you started bullying her…”
My jaw clenches at her statement. “I never fucking bullied her.” I spat.
She crosses her arms. “You, for sure, enabled others.”
I get up to walk out.
“One step out of my office without my permission… and you will be out of your team for good.”
I stop in my tracks. Coach has given me the same warning. If I want to get out of the personal hell I have been living in for years, I need my spot in the team.
“SIT!” she orders and then asks in a calm voice, “You got enraged. Why?”
I turn my head to look out of the window and say nothing.
It is probably bullying. Natalie confronted me in the boys’ locker room today. She had so much hate and judgment in her eyes. It irked me. So I scared her off.
“I am a freaking counselor and I don’t get it! What do bullies like you get when they target someone?”
I could say again I never did. But there is no point. She is probably right. I do bully her sometimes and I definitely enabled others for the past year.
“You, for sure, are not a good counselor… You are not supposed to blame your patient,” I say.
“Oh... I never said I was a good counselor…” she states casually.
We sit in silence for a while, then I ask her, “What can I do?”
“What?”
“Is there something I can do to make it better?”
Her eyes brighten. She says, “Well… you could start by sharing what exactly is happening with you... What’s bothering you?”
I roll my eyes.
“Quit it, Counselor! You cannot make me better… It will take forever.”
She doesn’t like my answer, but I continue anyway. “How can I make things better for her?”
She presses her lips and says, “It is still possible for you West… to admit and start working on yourself. You gotta start by admitting that there is hope for you.”
I want to roll my eyes again but she continues, “Anyway… You could start by apologizing and stop giving her trouble for a start… then leave her alone.”
Apology?
Can I do that? Especially, When she is sneaking around with Jacob to get back at me. She kissed him in the freaking hallway! Barely minutes after she met me in the locker room.
But I have to start somewhere. I can stop making her life difficult.
Do I want to leave her alone?
I don’t think so.
Because I want her back.












