Page 69 of Faux Real
No. No negativity. Positive thoughts only. A runner’s high, that’s what I need. Hopefully, the endorphins will keep me going until after classes end. I grab a sweatshirt from my dresser before heading downstairs to the track.
Crisp air nips at my skin as I swing open the emergency exits. Immediately, my gaze darts toward the faint chatter coming from the parking lot.
“Keep the change, mate,” Ollie slurs, slamming the door of the cab shut. He runs a hand through his hair, a mischievous grin forming on his face as he notices me. “Uh oh, busted.” He holds out his hands, pressing his wrist together. “I surrender, Officer. Take me to jail.” He pauses, tossing me a wink. “Rough me up if you want, I can take it.”
“Oh my God, are you drunk?” I ask, the scent of liquor permeating the air as he takes a step closer to me. “Ollie, it’s like 6 a.m. We have class in a couple of hours, what were you thinking?”
“Correction, Iwasdrunk several hours ago,” Oliver counters. “Now I’m just stoned.” He loses his balance for a second, letting out a laugh. “Okay, perhaps I’m atadwasted.” He gives me a quick once-over. “Why are you awake so early? Going for a little jog, are we?”
“Have you slept?” I ask, scanning his glazed-over eyes.
“Haveyou?” he asks, arching down so that we’re face to face. “You look tired, love. Did you stay up all night?”
“We’re not talking about me right now,” I state, side-stepping him as I check my watch. “You have two hours before class, go take a nap...and a shower. You reek of booze.”
“Nah, I’m not tired,” he says, suppressing a yawn. “I think I’ll join you for a run, get the old heart pumping, you know.”
“Run? You can barely stand,” I say, popping in my headphones as I head toward the track. “Go to bed, Oliver.”
“I can sleep when I’m dead,” he says, jogging up behind me. “So, Kennedy, how was your weekend? Do anything interesting?”
“You’re seriously going to run laps with me?” I ask, entering the field. “God, you’re stubborn.”
“One of my many admirable traits,” Oliver smirks, spinning around and running backward.
I roll my eyes, keeping a steady pace. “You’re going to fall.”
“Me? Nonsense! I’m like a cat, excellent balance,” he boasts with a cocky smile. “So, how was your weekend? Did you finish your essays?”
“Yeah, I did, but now I have to rush my history project so that’s going to be fun,” I groan, rounding the track. “AndI still need to approve the catering for Homecoming and meet with decorators on Wednesday.”
“Busy girl,” Ollie muses, somehow still running backward. Liquid courage at its finest. “So guess what?”
“What?”
“We played our first show on Saturday.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?” I ask, wiping a sheen of sweat from my forehead.
“We killed it,” Ollie says with a lopsided grin. “And then we celebrated...for two days.”
“Ah,” I hum. “Went on a little bender?”
“We took a couple of breaks,” he says, catching his breath. “But yeah, it was good times. You should come hang next week. Meet the lads.”
“Yeah, I don’t havetimefor benders, Ollie, but thanks for the invite,” I snort as we approach the track and field course. “You might want to turn around now.”
“I’m not going to fall, love, don’t worry,” he laughs.
“Oliver, seriously, watch out—” I stop, covering my mouth as Oliver trips, his body flipping over a low hurdle. “Oh my God, are you okay?” I ask, laughing into my hands as he groans, writhing on the rubber track. “Ollie?”
“Fucking fuck!” he grunts, wincing as the sun beats down on his face. “Who the fuck leaves hurdles in the middle of the bloody road?”
“Road? Do you even know where we are right now?” I blink at the idiot sprawled out on the ground. “Ollie, get up.”
“I can’t, I’m injured! I need a nurse,” he whines, slapping his forearm over his face. “Oh, nurse, Kennedy! Help me! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”
I snort. “Why don’t you just stay down there, take a little nap, okay? I’ll wake you up in a few laps.”
