He Called My Pain Dramatic, So I Stopped Begging Him to Care

2: 2

Byron let out a cold laugh.

"Barbara, the harder you fake it, the less I'll let you slack off. Everyone runs another three miles with her. If she doesn't finish, none of you gets to rest."

The other students heard that and started cursing at me all over again.

"Barbara, have some shame. It wasn't enough to get us six miles for you, now you're still putting on an act? You really have to drag the whole class down with you?"

"Damn it, how did I end up in the same class as a faker like this. What awful luck."

I kept my head down and worked myself up to it.

"Byron, it was me who wanted to take leave. I'll run it myself. Don't punish the others."

Then I lurched up on purpose. The pain in my stomach flared, my vision went black, and I hit the floor with a thud.

The last second before I passed out, I heard the students scream around me.

When I came to again, I heard the doctor speaking to the advisor and Byron.

"She's anemic and run-down, she's on her period, and she was pushed into strenuous exercise. That's what made her faint."

I forced myself up and out of the bed, and dropped straight to the floor.

The doctor and the advisor rushed over and helped me up.

"Barbara, what do you think you're doing?"

My breath came out thin and weak.

"I have to run the fifteen kilometers. I can't take leave and drag the other students down. Byron, don't punish anyone else. I'll run it myself."

The doctor's voice shot up when he heard that.

"Fifteen kilometers? Are you people out of your minds? Making a girl this weak, with low blood sugar, on her period, run nine miles? You're trying to kill her."

The advisor turned a hard stare on Byron.

"Byron. What is going on here."

Before Byron could get a word out, I caught the teacher's hand and explained.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was being too dramatic. The instructor said if your body's weak you need to train more. I'll go run right now. I promise I won't take leave and hold the rest of the class back again."

The doctor stamped his foot, furious.

"Training is supposed to be reasonable. You're already weak on your period, and pushing you into high-intensity training right now isn't training, it's killing you."

Byron looked at me, flustered.

"Barbara, don't talk nonsense, I was doing this for your own good. Sir, I thought Barbara was just trying to slack off. I had no idea her health was really this bad."

The advisor snapped at him coldly.

"Byron, boot camp is meant to toughen up a student's body and will, and it has to fit the student's physical condition. We got lucky nothing happened this time. If there's a next time, you won't get out of it."

Then the advisor wrote me a slip excusing me from the training, told me to rest properly, and said I didn't have to take part anymore.

That night, once I got back to the dorm, my roommates crowded around me.

"Barbara, are you okay? You actually passed out. We all thought you were faking to get out of it, and blamed you for getting us punished."

I sighed.

"My health's just bad. I dragged everyone down. I'm sorry."

The others shook their heads.

"It's fine. In the end the advisor came and told us to take leave right away if we felt unwell and not to push ourselves. So we didn't get the extra training, and things got a lot easier for us too."

I nodded. Just then, Gay looked over at me.

"Barbara, Byron was only looking out for you, and he got punished because of you."

I let out a cold laugh.

"For my own good? I was in so much pain I couldn't even stand, and he forced me to run nine miles. Even the doctor said that was pushing me to death. And you call that looking out for me?"

For a moment Gay had nothing to say to that.

Right then a student from the dorm next door knocked on the door.

"Gay, there's a Black exchange student downstairs waiting for you."