The Fastest Way to Fall(17)

Neither of us spoke. I didn’t have to return his gaze to know his brow was knit, trying to figure out the right thing to say.

Cord broke the silence, his voice low again but without a trace of pity. I loved that about the guy. “What do you need?”

“Distraction.” I could shake this. I didn’t need help or condolences; I just needed to focus on a problem I could fix, and Cord understood.

He leaned one elbow on the table, pivoting on a dime. “Tell me more about this high school thing Pearl said you wanted to talk about.”

“Yeah.” My shoulders relaxed, and I realized how tense I’d been. “You know my buddy Aaron?”

“Yeah, the one you play basketball with, right?” Cord sat back in his chair, eyeing the small group of trendy twentysomethings who’d stumbled through the front door. I knew they wouldn’t stay.

“They wanted to do this peer education thing where older kids lead workshops on fitness for the younger kids who want to learn.” Aaron had sent me more information, and the program was a great idea, giving kids a chance to learn and be leaders. Libby had always hated gym class—she’d complain, and I never got it. Eventually, she confessed she hated that she felt judged and forced to focus on her body, when she didn’t want to in this very public way. I’d never thought about it like that. The program Aaron described sounded better. “Sort of like a mini version of what our coaches do.”

Cord took a pull from his drink, expression unchanged. “Sounds cool. Where would we come in?”

“I’m not sure yet. It’s all still coming together, but what would you think of us partnering with them? We could hire someone who would work with the school and train the kids using some of our existing training program. I don’t know . . . maybe if it works, it’s a service we could provide to schools to do something similar.” I was talking faster, motioning with my hands. “You know how often our coaching boils down to undoing shit people have been holding on to since they were kids.”

Cord nodded, and I knew what was in that acknowledgment. When we first met, he gave me the cold shoulder, and I figured he was another spoiled, rich asshole like so many of my new classmates. The first semester we lived together, we just tried to stay out of each other’s way until he stumbled in drunk one night and thanked me for not being an asshole like the athletes who bullied him in high school. I’d never thought much about what people dealt with until that night. After Libby ran away, I’d thought about it a lot.

“Yeah, and it’s not like we’re going to expand FitMi to serve minors, so this could be good. We’re doing well. You want to do this for free, at least for this school?”

“That’s what I was thinking.” I was in way over my head. We’d have a thousand details to work out with the school—our insurance, the finances—and that was all before hiring someone to head it up. It would be a ton of work for me in the months ahead, and that was exactly what I wanted.

“Let’s do it.” He sat back in his chair and glanced down at my phone buzzing on the table.

“Kelsey again?”

I finished the beer and peeled the label. It was a reply from B, and I silenced it. “Nah, but Pearl is arranging a meeting.”

“I wonder what she wants.”

I did not understand why Kelsey was so eager to talk. Even when we were together, she never wanted to chat. When we first met, Kelsey seemed like the girl I thought I needed—serious, self-sufficient, and cooler than I was. She didn’t rely on me for anything, and that felt like a relief for a while after leaving home, but that cool turned colder and colder. We hadn’t spoken once since the breakup years earlier.

Cord shook his head. “Kelsey on top of everything else. When you have a bad day, it’s an epically shitty day.” He held up his beer. “Another?”

I waved a dismissive hand. Another drink would mean feeling even worse in the morning, and this was already more than I usually had. The worry I’d end up like my mom was always resting at the bottom of every drink.

“I got tonight, then.” He pushed up from his chair and strode to the bar to close out our tab. I examined my decimated beer label and scratched off the residue. The distraction didn’t last long before I unlocked my phone and clicked on the FitMi notification.



From: Bmoney34

To: FitMiCoachWes1

Sent: February 8, 8:54 p.m.


You get a pass for having a bad day and being a few beers in. Anyway, I kind of like the name.


Goodnight, Tube Sock


Bubbles





13





LIKED BY KATKO AND 399 OTHERS


If any man ever wanted me the way I want this stranger’s cream cheese Danish, I’m not sure I’d walk again. I’m getting better at usually choosing foods that give me energy. For example, while lusting after a stranger’s pastry full of carby buttery goodness this morning, I took a bite of this very Instagrammable red apple full of nutrients. If I’m being honest, the nutrients didn’t measure up, and I debated if feeling a post-Danish sluggishness might not be so bad. #DecisionsDecisions





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I SAT AT the Best Life conference table, having arrived on time with the donuts. The box was almost empty when our boss arrived. One of the recent FitMi activities had been to read a short article on checking in with your body. It had sounded a little fluffy when Wes suggested it, but it was more about paying attention to physical cues like feeling tired, hungry, and in pain. I’d had the bear claw halfway to my lips when I rethought the decision, because I actually wasn’t all that hungry. Instead, I tore off a small piece of the donut and set the rest on a napkin near my notes.