FADING (A novel)(50)

“It’s fine, I just haven’t been running very much since summer, and the cold air got to me. I’m okay,” I say with chattering teeth. I look at him, his long hair dripping with water, and I know I would be a total bitch if I left him like this to drive home. So, with hesitation, I say, “We should go inside and dry off.”

When we walk in, I show him to the guest bathroom and run to grab some of Jase’s clothes that are in my room for him to change into. I leave him be while I go into my room and change into some dry clothes and tie my wet hair into a messy bun. When I walk out of my room, Ryan is sitting on the couch in the living room. He stands up and starts thanking me for joining him on his run. A huge part of me is relieved that he isn’t trying to stay here and hang out. Being alone with him inside my house still makes me feel very uneasy.

“You still going to the dance studio after that run?” he asks while walking to the front door as I follow him.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m fine. I didn’t eat before we left, so I’m sure that’s why I got lightheaded. I’m going to fix something to eat, then study for a while before I head up there.”

“I’ll catch you later then?”

“Yeah,” I say.

Once Ryan leaves, I make a pot of coffee and grab a breakfast bar. I go back to my room, pick up my phone, and call Jase. When he answers, he’s concerned that something is wrong. I assure him that I’m fine and that I just miss him. He can’t talk for long because he is out with Mark’s family for brunch. I’m used to always having Jase around, but I am happy that he is so content with Mark. They have become very serious in these past few months; I know Jase really loves him. Both of them come back home tomorrow, so Jase and I make plans to hang out after Mark goes home.

?????

Dancing was just what I needed today. After Ryan left, I spent the majority of the afternoon stressing about my parents rather than studying. I’m used to my father calling me after a fight and trying to smooth things over, but he hasn’t tried contacting me at all. My mother and I said some pretty harsh words to each other, and I’m just not quite sure how we are going to move past this.

Going to the studio helped clear my head and relaxed me as it always does. I was able to focus on and choreograph several eight-counts for my solo. I am starting to get some direction with the piece, and it feels good to be making progress with it.

After I worked on my solo, I decided to stay a while longer to work on my center floor technique. I ended up being at the studio for a little over three hours. By the time I got back home, my head was clear, so I decided to make good use of it and get the schoolwork done that I couldn’t focus on earlier.

Finishing up some research for a paper, I check my phone to see that it’s past eight o’clock. I decide to call it a night and quickly change into a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. I pop a sleeping pill and walk to the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat before heading to bed.

The doorbell rings just as I am opening the fridge. I’m beyond surprised when I open the door and see Ryan standing there with a pizza and beer.

“What are you doing here?!”

Giving me a slight smile, he steps around me and comes inside. “I ran out to grab some dinner and knew you weren’t doing anything tonight, so I drove here instead of back to my place.”

“Oh . . .”

“That a problem?”

He starts walking to my kitchen, and all I can mumble out is, “Ummm . . . no. I just . . .”

“Just what?”

“Just surprised that’s all. Why didn’t you just text me?”

He sets down the pizza and beer and starts opening drawers until he finds the one with the bottle opener. “Because I figured you would probably tell me you were studying.” He pops the cap off the beer, hands it to me, and winks as I press my lips together and agreeably nod. He takes his beer bottle and clinks the neck of it to mine then takes a sip.

“Plates?” he asks, and I nod my head over to the cabinet they are in while I take a long sip of my beer. “So, how was the rest of your day?” he continues while he moves with ease around my kitchen.

“Good. I got a lot done actually.”

“Great, let’s eat then,” he says as he stacks the plates and napkins on top of the pizza box and heads into the living room. “Do you mind grabbing the beer?”

“No problem.”

Setting everything down on the coffee table, he plops down on the couch and watches me until I move to join him. The past two times he has been here made me very uncomfortable, but his playful attitude tonight is amusing me more than anything.

I am pleasantly surprised when I open the pizza box to see that he got a Hawaiian pineapple pizza. I look over at him and ask, “How did you know I like pineapple on my pizza?”

Leaning forward and grabbing a slice, he says, “I didn’t. Like I said, I got this for me before deciding to come over.”

“Oh.”

He smiles at me before taking a bite, and I grab a slice and join him. Sitting here, eating pizza and drinking beer, feels a lot like the times Jase and I have done this—comfortable. Then I remember that it probably feels comfortable because I already took my sleeping pill, which always helps relax me. Enjoying his company, I brush it off.

“So, you know what I did with my day. What about you?” I ask.