Page 11 of Choosing You

“It’s okay. I don’t need one.” My eyes are pooling with liquid again, infuriating me.

Ryan waits for me to get up, then pulls me into a hug. “I’ll miss you, Jade.”

Dammit! Why did he have to say that? And what the hell’s with this hug? We never hug! I feel more tears building. My face hurts and my throat burns as I try to hold them back. Ryan starts to pull away, but I don’t let him. I have to get control of myself first. I close my eyes and think of my mom yelling at me, telling me I’m weak and how weak people never go anywhere in life. Thinking of her shuts off the tears completely and I’m finally able to let him go.

He smiles. “You annoy the hell out of me, but I’ll still miss you.”

I punch him. “Like you’re not annoying with your constant safety reminders and junk food bans?”

“You know you love me, even when I nag you about shit.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. “Here.” He hands me a stack of twenties. “When you need more, just call.”

“I’m not taking this!” I shove it back in his hand. “You just told me you had no money. You need that for gas to get home. I don’t need money here. Everything’s paid for.”

He takes my hand and places the money in it, forcing my fingers to close around it. “You should always have cash. What if you need to take a cab or a bus somewhere? Or maybe you’ll need it for laundry or to feed your potato chip addiction.”

My stupid eyes get watery again as I look down at the wad of cash in my hand.

“Thanks, Ryan.” Now my voice is shaky. God, I hate this. I hate people being nice and I hate saying goodbye. A tear escapes my eye and runs down my cheek. I pretend it isn’t there, but I know he sees it.

He puts his arm around my shoulder. “Hey, I know it’s tough being so far from home, but you’ll get into a routine and everything will get better. Call me whenever you want, okay? Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

We walk slowly back to the car. I want to act like that toddler at the restaurant and scream and cry at the top of my lungs, begging him not to leave me here. But I can’t, so instead I say, “Have a safe trip.”

“It won’t be as fun without my travel companion, but at least I can pick the radio station now.” He gets in the car and rolls the window down. “Go to the party tonight. It’ll be good for you. Don’t hide in your room, okay?”

“Yes. I know. Bye, Ryan.”

“Bye, Jade.” He backs out and I watch as he drives away.

I’m left feeling empty and alone and completely out of place. My chest is so tight that just the simple act of breathing is difficult. I look around at the open quad, focusing on the lush, green grass, trying to relax.

It’s only 10 in the morning. I have the whole day left in this strange place with nothing to do and no one to talk to. And even more days after that. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to school so far from home. I can’t handle it. Maybe Iamweak, just like my mother said.

I go back to my room and dump all of my garbage bags out on the floor. I find some running shorts and a t-shirt and put them on, then head back outside. There has to be a track somewhere on this campus.

I run past the buildings down a small hill and there it is, next to the gym and the tennis courts. I breathe a sigh of relief. I need to run. It’s the only thing that will make me feel better. When I run, I almost go into a trance. I listen to the rhythm of my breath and the sound of my shoes hitting the ground and together they form a pattern that’s oddly soothing.

I usually don’t like to run on a track, but today it’s exactly what I need. I like how predictable it is. Straight then curved, then straight, then curved.

As soon as I start running, I feel the calmness I was craving. I get lost in the repetition of my movement around the oval track and lose all sense of time. After a while, the sun is really hot and I realize that it’s probably way past noon. I take a break and sit at the side of the track, completely soaked in sweat.

“Have a good run?”

I turn and see Garret walking toward me in navy athletic shorts and a gray t-shirt. It looks like he’s been running, too, although he’s not nearly as sweaty as me.

“It was all right,” I say. “I don’t usually run on a track.”

“You should’ve come with me. I ran a couple miles around campus.”

I shake my head, sweat dripping off me like a wet dog. “That’s not far enough. I usually run 8 or 9 miles.”

He sits down next to me. As inrightnext to me. Can he not see how sweaty I am? I’m sure he can smell me from 10 feet away.Ican’t even stand the smell of myself.

“Eight or 9 miles? You must be a serious runner. I’m a swimmer. I only run to improve my cardio for the pool. I do a couple miles at a normal pace and then I do sprints on the track.”

So that’s why he has that body. He’s a swimmer. That explains the broad shoulders and narrow waist V shape he’s got going on.

“Go ahead.” I point to the empty track. “It’s all yours.”

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