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Chapter Six
The next morning - is it morning? I swear it’s still the middle of the night judging by how dark it still is - I drag my sorry ass out of bed and get ready. Once I wash and braid my hair, I pull on my running gear, grab my water bottle and have a quick cereal bar to put me on. I smile. Lizzie used to go crazy when I used that phrase. She’d argue that it was too northern (when we were from the south), and would always try to insist that I just say I needed something to keep me going until a main meal. I didn’t think it mattered either way, but I made a point to use the phrase all the time to drive her crazy. These are the memories of Lizzie I want to remember, not those last few months of sporadic, vague letters where something was clearly wrong, but she no longer felt she could confide in me.
I quickly head downstairs and out the front door to meet Ace. He’s not there yet, so I spend a few moments stretching and warming up while I wait for him.
When he arrives, I swear, my mouth actually waters. He approaches me at a run, slowing to jog on the spot when he gets to me. He’s wearing long baggy shorts, trainers and a red hoodie with the hood pulled up so that it slightly obscures his face. The colour makes his tan pop and his violet eyes blaze out. The top’s unzipped, and he’s not wearing anything underneath. He’s cut, toned and athletic. He even has those sexy ridges and that ‘V’ by his hips. I think ‘V’ is fast becoming my favourite letter of the alphabet! His shorts are scandalously low. I lick my lips, then immediately feel like a total perv.
“Hi.” I clear my throat and finish up my stretches. When I stand, I notice that Ace had been watching me closely. My cheeks colour.
“Morning. Let’s go.” He turns and takes off at a fast pace. Startled, I race to catch up to him, but once I do, I easily keep up. That’s not to say that I think he’s going easy on me, just that I’m used to running. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s in the zone and has forgotten all about me already. We’re soon crossing the school grounds, cutting across the sports fields with the damp grass tickling my ankles. When we hit the woods, the tree cover is so thick that it’s hard to see. Luckily, I’m used to running in the dark, so it doesn’t phase me.
I let Ace go ahead and set the pace because the trail is too narrow in places. We run in silence, but it feels companionable. After a while I’m glad that he made me come out at this godforsaken hour; I can hear the birds waking and calling to one another, and as the sky lightens, I get to enjoy the fantastic autumnal colours of the leaves. I always used to say to Lizzie that Autumn is my favourite colour. It’s lovely out here.
We run for a good hour before stopping for a drink. While we rest for a moment, I take the opportunity to chat to him. He intrigues me, and I want to get to know him better.
“Where are you from Ace?”
“Here.” Okay, not what I was expecting. I wonder if he understood my question. I try it again.
“Where were you born?”
“Hospital.” I wonder if he’s taking the piss.
“What country were you born in?”
“Oh!” His eyes widen with understanding. “Slovenia.” Okay so he wasn’t taking the piss, this is a language barrier thing.
“Wow, cool. When did you move to the U.K. then?”
“Erm...I think I am four years here so far.”
“Do you like it?”
“For sure.”
“Do you miss Slovenia?”
“For sure.”
“How do you know the other guys?”
“We’re friends,” he says it like its the most obvious thing in the world. Getting to his feet, he finishes his drink and takes off again. “Come. We run again now.” I have no choice but to follow. I guess the getting to know each other part of our date is over. Not that this is a date. Just, you know, he’s really hot.
Flustered, I take off after him. But I don’t get far before I trip on a root I didn’t spot and go sprawling on the floor. Fuck! Ace must have heard me because he stops his run and comes back to me and helps me sit up. I have dirt and gravel in my knees and palms where I broke my fall, but I’m more concerned about my twisted ankle. It really smarts, and I can already tell that putting weight on it is going to be a bitch. I’m generally not a klutz at all, so my face is pink with embarrassment when Ace bends down to inspect my injuries. The pink becomes scarlet when he slides one arm under my ass and wraps the other around my back, lifting me up.
“Erm, thanks,” I stammer out. “I can walk, though.” I try to get down out of his arms, but he squeezes me tight.
“No.”
“No?”
“No walk. I carry. Not far.”
Oh, my goodness. I do not want or need to be carried anywhere. It’s just a twisted ankle, probably not even a sprain. I’m mortified now - this goes beyond embarrassment. I try to squirm and wiggle my way out of Ace’s arms, but he holds me tighter, and I end up just sort of rubbing against his hard bare chest, making things worse, so I stop.
Now I’m not about to be a girly girl and protest that I’m too heavy for him to carry. Hell, I think he can more than handle me, plus he decided to do this, so he can live with his choices if I am too heavy. But I’m a little concerned about where we’re going. He said it’s not far, but I know that we haven’t been running a circular route, so that means we’re no way near the main school building. And he hasn’t made any effort to turn around and head in that direction. So where’s he taking me?
I soon find out as the trees give way to a small clearing with an old wooden two-storey house inside. It’s charming, painted white with little blue window frames and shutters. The wraparound porch is a nice touch, and as we take the steps up to the front door, I even notice a swinging chair.
