Page 142

I didn’t know how to keep them without wondering what they had been for him.

I shifted my book to the other arm and started walking.

He had told me to call.

He had meant it. I knew that.

He would come if I called.

That didn’t mean he wanted me to call.

I could still go for a run without being anybody’s problem.

That was what I told myself as I walked past my last class.

The door was open. I could see the teacher at her desk, students settling into their seats. Nothing stopped me from going in.

I kept walking.

In the locker room, I changed into the running clothes I kept for practice. It was a variation of my usual, poured-on running uniform—maroon shorts, a faded strappy peach sports bra, socks that had lost most of their elasticity, my latest pair of victim shoes with only maybe a week left of life in them.

I tightened the laces on my running shoes and worked my hair into a braid, securing the end with the spare elastic around my wrist.

My school clothes went into my bag. My bag went into the locker.

I took my phone and tucked it into the beige belt bag at my waist.

Even angry, even hurt, I wasn’t interested in being unreachable. I just wanted to get somewhere without somebody making sure I got there.

There was a difference.

It felt important at the time.

The bell for last period sounded while I was shutting the locker. I waited for it to stop, then went out through the athletic entrance.

Nobody was waiting outside.

For the first time all day, I didn’t have to look at a bruise on somebody I loved.

I chose the route into town. Sidewalks, storefronts, traffic. Very public. No trails. No trees closing over my head. I could finish at the flower shop, get a drink, let Mom know where I was before school let out.

I would have to explain missing class.

That felt manageable.

Explaining why I needed to run did not.

The afternoon heat came up through the soles of my shoes.

I settled into it. The pull in my calves. The familiar rhythm of my breathing. My arms moving because I wanted them to, my feet landing exactly where I intended.

I knew where I was. I knew where I was going.

After Monday, those weren’t small things.

For the first several blocks, I tried to run hard enough that thinking became inconvenient.

It worked until I had to wait at a crossing.