Page 14 of Left-Hand Larceny

“And not just to keep an eye on you,” she winks. “We’re friends, Rags.”

Right. Friends. I love and hate that in equal measure.

“I also have some school shit I have to get done.” She curls her lip, telling me she’s avoiding it at all costs.

“I-I-I thought you…you liked sc-school?”

Her mouth twists to the side as she looks at me.

“It’s fine,” she says. “I do like the practical applications. I like helping people.” She bites her lip.

But? I want her to finish the sentence.

“I’m not…. Naturally good at the math and science stuff. I can learn it, I think, but I thought it would get easier the longer I studied.” She shakes her head. “Not the material, but I thought the connections would come easier. Or I’d remember more when I use it more?” She shrugs.

That’s all the stuff I’m good at. The logic. The reasoning. Memorizing specific names and numbers and finally seeing the world make sense.

“It’s too late to change my mind, but I thought I’d love it by now.” This smile doesn’t meet her eyes. I can tell even as she stares down at the display on her treadmill. Suddenly, her face brightens. “It’s okay,” she says. “I made a commitment and I’m almost done. I can see it through.”

I may not have gone to college to pursue a professional degree, but I took some college-level math classes during the off-seasons. Math is universal. Math has easily understandable rules. Math rarely attracts the most social individuals, and I can study while being left alone.

Sadie stretches up, the smooth skin of her abs and arms glows at me. I try to look away. Try being the operative word.

What I can do is trip over my shoes like a small child just learning how to walk.

“Fokk,” I say under my breath, catching my hands on the rails. I move my feet to the side of the belt, taking stock of my hip. No pain. I didn’t wrench anything. I was just surprised.

“Hey.” Sadie’s hand covers mine. She’s off her machine and looking up at me, concern darkening her honey-brown eyes. “You okay?”

I nod.

Her skin is touching mine. Not for an exercise, or a stretch. Not to get my attention—not that she ever doesn’t have it—but because she’s concerned. For me. It feels like my blood is boiling in my veins, tingling bubbles starting under the skin covering my knuckles, and spreading up my arm.

I want to pull away.

I want this to never stop.

“Yes.”

“Good.” she steps back, severing our connection, and my hand stings with the loss of contact. “We just got you all fixed up. I’d hate to have you back on injured reserve because you have two left feet.”

“I-I’ll ha-ave you know I have two r-r-right feet.”

“Ah well, that’s completely different.”

I resume my leisurely pace and she jumps back on her machine, too. Silence settles between us as the belts whir and we both try for steady breaths. Sadie takes the headphones off her neck and hangs them over the rail of her machine. Does she think she can’t put her music back on? That I’ll be offended?

“Y-you can…can listen to your…” I point at the headphones. “I-I-I do-don’t m-m-m-mind.”

“I don’t either,” she says, and I blush.

We return to our workouts.

Twenty minutes later, she stops her machine and uses a small hand towel to mop her forehead.

She’s leaving,my brain supplies, always stating the obvious. I don’t want her to go, but I don’t really have a reason for her to stay. One of her shoelaces is untied. She doesn’t notice, using the spray bottle to wipe down her machine. I keep an eye on that little white string, waiting for it to snag, or for her to step on it. Something. She reaches for her ponytail, pulling the scrunchie out until dark waves fall over her shoulder and down her back. I’m jealous of her fingers as she digs them into her scalp, practically moaning as she works out the tension.

Sadie has a lot of hair. It’s probably heavy when she has to wear it up all the time. Katrín told me her head hurts sometimes from things like that. My little sister has the same copper orange hair I do, but she has thick ringlet curls. It’s…a lot. Sadie might have even more hair than Kat. It waves down her back in a sleek waterfall of midnight silk. I want to offer to do that for her,massage her scalp, but it would probably cross a boundary. It seems…intimate.

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