“How could you tell it was me?” I ask, amused. She continues gliding and turning, not looking at me completely.
“Even when I’m spinning, I can still see, you know.” Her voice is strong even though she has been working without a break for what seems like hours. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
She stops her routine abruptly and drifts towards me in her tight pink leotard. She stops right in front of me, her arms across her chest, her cheeks red and puffy, breathing heavily. Just by looking at her my heartbeat triples in pace. Fuck.
“How come you keep showing up everywhere the second my life turns to shit?” Wren asks without missing a beat.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” I grin. She scoffs, rolling her eyes. If I had no self-control, I would’ve jumped over the railing that’s separating us, taking her in my arms. I just want to be close to her in any way. Luckily for the both of us, I have more composure than that, so I lie. “I’ve got to go to practice.”
She cocks her head to the side. “There isn’t a practice on today.”
“I didn’t know you knew my schedule, Wren. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re starting to like me,” I tease, loving the way her face turns red.
“The last thing that should be on your mind is me liking you,” she retorts, taking out her hair from its bun. She lets it fall before quickly gathering it up again into a looser one. Fuck me, she's beautiful.
“Right, what should be on my mind then?” I tilt my head to the side.
“I don’t know. Maybe start my doing something that doesn’t make you stink of beer. Why would come here when you’ve been drinking? It’s like you don’t even care about playing again,” she snaps. Her tone shocks me.
I’ve only had maybe three drinks to psych myself up to go into class today. I told myself I wasn’t going to have any more for the rest of the day, and I intend on keeping that promise. I kind of like that she cares even when she’s acting like she doesn’t.
“Well, I’m not playing so there’s no reason for menotto drink. I’ll be fine,” I say, waving my hands around vaguely. She drops her arms from her chest, rolling her eyes.
“And you think you’ll be able to play quicker if you drink more?”
“Why do you care? I didn’t come here for a lecture. If I wanted one, I would’ve stayed at home."
“Then why are you really here?” she challenges. I wait a beat, not meeting her eyes.
“I just finished class and I could hear you in here, so I thought I’d say hi.” I tell the truth this time because I know she will see right through me. She lets out a disbelieving “huh,” mostly saying it to herself but I catch it anyway. “What?”
She looks at me, her brown-green eyes boring into me.
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head slightly. I wait, giving her and unconvinced glance, knowing there's more she isn't saying. “This isn’t related at all, but can I have your number?”
There it is. I knew this was all an act. The one where she plays hard to get. She cold and fierce and harsh but it only makes me more drawn to her. I want to know every thought inside her brain. Why she is the way she is. How she can look through me so easily. I’ve never met anyone so defiant as her and it just turns me on.
“It’s not for me. Well…it is. My friends would kill me if I didn’t get it,” she rambles, rolling her eyes as she talks with her hands. It's a cute look compared to the death stare she gave me earlier.
“Right, okay,” I reply with a funny look, pulling out my phone. “So, which one of your friends is it that want you to get my number so badly? I bet it’s Scarlett. She used to date one of my teammates, you know.”
Her pink lips fight off a smile when she looks up at me.
“Oh, I know." She laughs softly as if there’s a hidden joke that I’m missing. The airdrop notification sounds, showing that she’s received the screenshot of my number. “I can assure you that it’s not. Thank you, though.”
I watch her look at me for what feels like the first time. Like, really look at me. The fluorescent lights make her eyes look completely green and her red cheeks have still not died down.
I watch her take a sweep of my face; starting with my brown hair which has grown longer than I’m used to, to the space between my eyes, and then to my lips where she hovers for a beat too long. I lean back off the barrier, putting some space between us as I clear my throat.
“Use it whenever you like. You’re a fun one to talk to, Wren,” I say, turning around and walking back towards the hallway.
“What does that even mean?” she shouts, clearly frustrated. I laugh and make my way out of the chilly rink. Honestly, I don’t even know what I meant or why I said it. I just can’t seem to get her out of my head, and I don’t want her to have any excuses not to talk to me.
*
After a painful week of not hearing from Wren, other than catching small glimpses in the hallway, I go to my safe place. I’ve been good-ish this week. I’ve cut down some of the heavy stuff like Bourbon but I’m still balancing the lighter ones that can soothe the pain for a short period.
