Page 40 of My Cosplay Escape
For the rest of the lab, I focus on the academics. I’m making this new beginning happen, no matter what. And Brenda does turn out to be great with, erm, questions—informative, succinct, even if she is a little brusque.
Later that day, actually all through my shift at the gym, I let myself go back and chew on what Adam said. What did he mean I don’t look like a runner? Was it the hoodie?
Tony is typing into his computer at the front desk when I decide I’m done chewing. “Why don’t I look like a runner?” I demand, slamming my hands on the counter.
Tony startles. “Are you asking me?”
A groan escapes me. “This guy—”
Before I can get another word out, Tony has a hand up. “No,” he says. “No, don’t bother explaining. I’m not getting involved with any personal drama. I have no opinion.”
“But what am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” Tony says, grabbing his empty titanium water jug. Seriously, the amount of water this man drinks. “Circle back to the source,” he mumbles. “Just leave me out of it.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
It’s a slow day. It’s not much of an excuse, but I reach for my phone all the same. I double- and triple-check that my email is sending from my school account and not from the one connected to my Venmo Sabine Kennedy alias.
Dear Adam,
What do you mean I don’t look like a runner?
Sarah aka Hoodie
It’s minutes before my phone buzzes with a new email notification.
Dear Hoodie,
Runners don’t wear hoodies unless they are Rocky Balboa. And then they’re actually boxers.
Adam aka Your TA
I send the next email without thinking.
Dear High-and-Mighty Adam aka My TA,
This runner wears hoodies. They come in handy when you run at four in the morning and it’s cold outside. Why don’t you meet me for a run next Friday before lab, and I can show you what I mean?
Sarah, the runner who wears a hoodie
It’s not even two minutes before I get the next email.
