Page 18 of Running Risk
“I’m just saying—” She leans closer, talking through the side of her mouth. “I’m sure she would like getting a little more attention from you.”
My eyes narrow on her. I honestly have never cared what other girls have said about me or considered any of them as anything more than someone I go to school with, but I think about what she’s saying, then shake my head. Rylee stands there drinking her soda, and I realize she’s not in sweats and a T-shirt. She’s actually in jeans and a red shirt I haven’t seen before. She looks . . . nice, and before I can overthink this whole conversation, I say, “You’re the only girl I want to give extra attention to.”
Her gaze snaps to mine before she scoffs and bumps me with her hip as she focuses back on the game.
Why would I want another girl in my life when Rylee is everything? She’s always there for me, but I want to be there for her. It feels good that she can always come to me for school questions, books, friendship, and to rant about something random she’s passionate about.
She peers at me before snapping to look at me fully. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She brushes her hands across her face.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Oh, then what is it?” She steps closer to hear me better.
There’s no way I’m telling my best friend she looks nice, and what she means to me. It would be too awkward. So I shrug and look back at the game, feeling the pressure to say something prickle the back of my neck. But thankfully, she drops it, grabbing the bag of Skittles and popping a few pieces into her mouth.
“Can you believe that this time next year, we will be goingto UGA and getting an apartment together?” she says over her shoulder, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
I smile, watching her toss more candy in her mouth. I can’t think of anything better than following her wherever she goes and getting to live with her. “As long as there are running trails.”
She smirks before bumping me with her shoulder.
11
RYLEE: NOW
Throwing my hair in a bun,I put on a sports bra and leggings. Socks wags her tail as she waits by the front door, holding the leash in her mouth. Grabbing my running shoes, I lace them on my feet and snatch my water bottle from the kitchen counter.
“You ready to run, girl?” She replies by spinning in a circle. “Okay. Let’s run.” I clip on her leash and open the front door. Each morning we go at least eight miles. It’s our favorite way to start our days before getting into a work mindset. Putting in my earbuds, we begin our jog down the driveway. I need this run today. After seeing Clayton, I need the stress relief more than ever.
I keep my gaze on my feet as the steady rhythm hums through my body as I run. I remember a time when Clayton and I ran together. We were inseparable after we met. I loved to read as he ran, and after a while, he convinced me to run with him. I fell in love with the release it gave me, and now I run this same route almost every day. I know every pothole and tree root along the side of the road. But my focus isn’t on the road like usual. Big brown eyes stare right into my soul, I saw the hurt in them atthe bar. That hurt is all I think of, right as I trip on the broken asphalt. I gasp as my heart stops beating, and I throw out my hands to try to catch myself. Going down, I fall hard as I land on my knee and roll a few times down the sloped terrain, and I cry out in pain. Socks whines and sniffs me.
“Fuck. That hurt.” I examine my knee where my leggings are ripped open, showing the mangled flesh. Blood oozes, and I hiss. Staying on the ground, I check the rest of my body. I have a few scrapes and areas that will no doubt become bruises, but the worst is my knee. I try to bend it, and I’m met with severe throbbing pain. I wince as I try to hold back a scream. Socks whimpers. “I’m okay, girl.” I pet her, attempting to convince her, but I really need to convince myself.
Placing my hands on the ground, I lean over and push myself up. Once standing, I slowly put weight on my leg and immediately regret it. I’m miles away from home, and there’s no way I can make it back on my own. Hopping to a tree stump, I hold my breath, hoping it will help me deal with the ache as I gently sit down. I get my phone out, thankfully, it didn’t get banged up in the fall, and click on my dad’s contact.
“Hello?” His deep voice rings through my ears.
“Hey, Dad. I was wondering if you could come pick me up.” I rub the sweat from my brow.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I can hear the concern etched in his tone. “I’m fine. I took a tumble on my run, and I don’t think I can get back home. I’m on Berry Hill Road.” He says something to someone, but I can’t hear it, and my eyebrows draw inward, unable to discern the sound.
“Sweetie, my truck is in the shop, and your mom’s out with friends. I’ve sent Clayton to get you. He’ll be there soon. Don’t move.”
My jaw drops at the same time my heart starts hammeringin my chest. “No. No. I’ll call Trish. It’s fine, Dad.” I pause while questions fly through my head. “Wait, why was he with you?”
“No. He jumped in his truck and should be pulling up any minute, and we often meet up. I like to check on him.” My dad’s voice is firm.
Clayton’s coming, and I have to see him again.Fuck. I turn my head as a truck speeds down the road. “He’s here, Dad.” We all live fairly close to each other, so it would only take minutes for him to come.
“Good. Now, let him get you home, and let me know if you need anything.”
“Okay. Love you.” I hang up the phone and take a deep breath, exhaling as soon as Clayton parks his truck in front of me.
He gets out as soon as it pulls to a stop, wearing worn jeans and a gray T-shirt. He rakes his fingers through his hair as he storms closer, his eyes scanning my body. Clayton zeroes in on my leg and kneels in front of me to look at it. His large, calloused hands gently cradle my knee.
“It’s fine—” I say, and hiss as he extends my legs, seeing if I can move them. His face jumps to look at mine, and the worry etched in his face is enough to make me pause.
