Page 29 of Loathe at First Sight

“I was here first. Find somewhere else,” I sternly say.

She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You don’t own these trails. Besides, I used to run these when I was a kid. So, technically, I was here first.”

“You left. That means you forfeit your rights to the trails.”

That earns me an eye roll. “Are you twelve?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, ready to go to battle, I say, “I didn’t take you for the running type. Is this really something you enjoy doing, or are you just out here to fuck with me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Paul Bunyan.”

“Paul Bunyan?”

She gives me a quick head nod. “Yeah, because you look like a lumberjack. Get it? I can come up with nicknames, too.” The smug look on her face shows just how proud she is of herself for that one.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“But as I was saying, don’t flatter yourself. I would rather stay as far away from you as I possibly can. But—”.

She stops mid-sentence.

“But what?” I press.

“Nothing.”

“No, you started it. Finish your thought.”

I have no idea why I care.

“For your information, I love to run. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane. I came out here because I thought I'd be alone. I know a lot of people are talking about me behind my back, and this was an opportunity to do something I love without all the eyes on me.”

For the first time since I met her a couple of days ago, I see something that I haven’t seen before.

Vulnerability.

There’s a crack in that tough armor of hers. And as much as I hate to admit it, I recognize something in the way that she’s feeling.

I had millions of eyes on me when my life fell apart. To get away from them all, I moved across the country to start a whole new life. I may not have details of what happened to her, but I can empathize more than I’d like to admit.

My chest which was just puffed out, ready for a fight, has now calmed down as I see a glimpse of a real person under her bitchy exterior.

I take off my baseball cap and run my hand through my hair before putting it back on.

“Look, these trails are pretty extensive. I’m sure that you and I can both come running here in the mornings, and it will be fine. We probably won’t even cross paths.”

“Really?” She eyes me like she thinks I’m lying.

“Really.”

“Why?”

“How about you just appreciate the gesture and don’t ask any more questions?” I say.

She thinks for a moment as if wondering if she should continue to push the issue. In the end, she thinks better of it, though, and just nods and gives a quiet, “Thanks.”

Every time she has to say that word, I think it pains her a little bit. Something about it is kind of cute…in a still very annoying kind of way.

We stand looking at each other for a moment, neither of us quite sure if there’s anything else to say. A heavy awkwardness lies between us, and I don’t think it’s going away any time soon.

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