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“Whatever, thunderbolt,” I scoff.
She giggles as she stretches her leg in the air. Her shorts fall back, showing a cheek, so I look away. Unfortunately, my gaze falls to a group of girls who are stretching a hundred yards from us. Very suspect, in my opinion. I lower my cap and push my sunglasses up my nose. I swallow hard and let out a long breath.
I realize I didn’t commit to running with her yet, but before I can, she asks, “What do you have planned today?”
“I’ve got a class this afternoon and then gymnastics practice.”
She clears her throat, coughing a bit. “Same, but I’ve got two. I’ll be late.”
“I’ll have your tape ready.”
Her eyes sparkle as she looks over at me. Her hair is falling in her face, and I want to laugh. She uses like three hair things to hold those massive curls up and out of her face. As I stare at her, I remember I had a question for her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she says, sitting up and pulling her leg across herself to stretch more. “Wondering when we’ll meet up again for me to smoke ya?”
I chuckle. “I had already run for an hour. You caught me at the tail end and still didn’t smoke me.”
“Okay, so tomorrow? Eight?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m down.” And then I pause. “You mean the morning, right? I have dinner with my family tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” she says, switching legs. “I have a class at ten, so I’ll need to outrun you and take a shower in two hours.”
I have class too, and I’m unsure I’ll make it if I’m running with her. Eh, I’ll worry about that tomorrow. “Same.”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” I say, and then I crouch down, opening my hips. I look over to find her watching me, waiting. “What?”
“What did you want to ask?”
“Oh yeah. Why were you at the autism center?”
“I volunteer there.”
“Oh, sweet. Is that related to what you’re majoring in?”
“Occupational therapy with a minor in business, and I want to open a center like that for kids with autism.”
My lips curve up, impressed. She’s the whole package. “That’s awesome. It’s a cool place.”
“It is. Do you volunteer too? Is that why you were there?”
“I’m gonna start, but when we ran into each other, I was there because my therapist works there.”
“Oh! Awesome! Kayla, right? She’s so damn good. I see her monthly.”
I furrow my brows. “You do?”
“Yeah. What?” she asks, laughing. “You’re looking at me weird.”
“You don’t look like you need a therapist.”
She continues to laugh. “Everyone needs some therapy, in my opinion,” she says, grinning from ear to ear before wiping the back of her hand along her forehead. “I go mainly for sports therapy and to deal with trauma from my childhood.”
Well, that’s a lot of details there. Bet her dad is included in that. “I am considering changing my major to sports therapy to help people who have issues like me.”
Her face is breathtaking. So bright, so beautiful as she gushes, “That’s freaking awesome. You should. You could help so many people.”
I should. Why am I so confident about it all of a sudden? Ignoring that thought, I say, “Yeah, that option didn’t really exist when I was coming up, especially not for men.”
“It’s not fair because men need good mental health too.”
“Exactly,” I agree, looking down at my hands. “I didn’t know Kayla did that.”
“She does, all aspects. She’s awesome.”
“She is.”
“Next time, ask her about it. I bet she can point you in the right direction.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
I nod as her phone sounds. “Yeah, good.” I watch as she turns off her alarm and pops up. “Gotta go?”
“Yeah. I’ve got class. So, good run.”
“For sure. Thanks for pushing me.”
“Anytime,” she says, backing up. “See ya later.”
“Did you want me to walk back with you?” I find myself asking.
She grins. “I may be small, but I’m mighty. No one messes with me.”
“I bet they don’t,” I call to her, and she grins before waving bye. I wave back like a dork as I watch her walk away and look at her phone. Her muscles are taut along her shoulders, and her whole back is wet with sweat. She’s right; anyone would be stupid to mess with her.
I’m starting to think I just might be that stupid.
