11. Skeletons and Seltzers

ELEVEN

SKELETONS AND SELTZERS

I ’ m a Mess, Ed Sheeran

Santiago

Work, train, race, repeat. That has been my life for the past few weeks, and it’s paid off. Top two in overall scores in the AA class should be an accomplishment itself, a nd it is, but it doesn’t stop here. This is just the beginning, and I need to keep the momentum going. I have nine more rounds to go before the final score is totaled and I won’t back down now.

It is so quiet today. The sun seems to be taking longer than usual to rise through the morning haze, giving the morning an eerie glow. Increíble. The little wonders that make each day worthwhile. This might be my glimmer of the day or Ana’s way of saying hello to her big brother. Maybe both. My breath matches the whispers of the wind through the lush oaks. The deeper I run into the trail, the darker it feels—making me feel a strange sense of peace in the solitude. In the quietness. Some early birds are chirping, and a distant owl’s sound lets me know that the sun will fully rise. Everything will keep going, like it always does, no matter what happened the day before.

I keep my pace, staying aware of my surroundings and still hoping to see Roe. There's a part of me semi-wishing she took my advice and isn't running by herself, but the thought of her with someone else scorches my lungs. I have the urge to be the one running with her, to protect. Why I want this is beyond me—she hasn't once treated me right since we met. Yet I have the feeling she's closed off for a reason. I’d pay good money to know what happened to her.

As I round the bend, I catch a glimpse of something on the ground ahead. Carefully drawing closer, I make sure that whatever it is isn’t hurt and is still alive. Doing a double take, I see it’s a person. I rush to get to them faster when they sit up. I can tell it’s a woman when she holds her head in her hands. Roe . It’s not even a question, I know it’s her. Is she hurt? Who did this to her?

My pulse quickens as I kneel beside her, saying her name softly so I don’t scare her. But she seems to be out of it because she doesn’t react. The warm dawn hues reveal her soft features; she looks up at the sun and then puts her head back down. She looks a little flushed but there’s no blood and nothing else seems to be wrong, so I whisper her name again, this time more certain. “Roe?”

“Ugh, even in my fucking dreams you haunt me,” she groans without lifting her head from her hands.

I’m still kneeling beside her, ignoring all the sounds around us and her sassy attitude, trying to assess what the fuck happened here. “Roe, princesa, talk to me. What happened?”

Her head raises and her gaze locks with mine, a look of confusion flashing over her face before saying, “Ah, I guess you’re really here.” She reaches her hand and touches me to confirm that she’s not imagining me, I guess. “I think I fainted,” she adds, trying to get up but losing her strength and sits back down.

“Easy, easy there. Has this happened before?” This girl . Running by herself at the crack of dawn and fucking fainting in the middle of the damn forest. Who knows what could’ve happened?

“Yes, often, but never while running. Never so suddenly.”

She’s not fighting or sassing me so she must not feel great. I don’t have any water on me, but I can help her make it to the end of the trail and grab water from my truck. “Here, let me help you up.”

Roe willingly gives me her hand, without hesitation. I help her stand and wrap my arm around her before she loses her footing again. Her long blonde hair dances across my arm as I help her balance, and I want to more than just this. I want to pick her up and roam my hands all over her body. Kiss her until her lips hurt, explore other places until she is putty in my hands.

Snap out of it, Santiago. Today is not the day, and now is not the time. Right now, I need to figure out what happened to her. "Can you walk?" I softly ask.

“Of course I can walk,” she snaps, slapping at my hand which is trying to keep her straight. “I already told you; I don’t need you or your hero complex saving me.”

Her step falters. She’s okay, my ass. I do the one thing I know will keep her from trying to walk away from me. I bend down and scoop her up, arms behind her knees, and place her over my shoulder.

Roe yelps in surprise. “Put. Me. Down. You. Big. Dinosaur!”

I laugh, a deep belly laugh. A sound I haven’t made in a while. This fucking girl. “Big dinosaur, huh?”

“Well, you’re acting all neanderthal right now. Put. Me. Down,” she quips, kicking her little feet and pounding her fists on my back. Her perfectly round ass is right by my face and it’s taking everything in me not to smack it and tell her to be quiet. My dick on the other hand didn’t get the memo that we are just helping her out. Another thing to take care of when I get back.

Eventually she stops fighting me and stays quiet. So quiet that I think she passed out again. “Roe?”

“What?” she bites back.

There she is .

“How about you tell me what you ate for breakfast today and how far you ran?” I’m trying to keep her talking to me while also trying to figure out why this happened.

“I made toast, eggs, and sausage. A protein shake, a banana, coconut oil, and water. Happy?” I can practically feel her eye roll and I definitely notice the annoyance in her voice even though the fight is gone.

“Are you secretly my mom’s child? She’s the only person I know who eats coconut oil by itself.”

“Stop deflecting, Saint. Are you going to put me down? I’m lightheaded from being upside down.”

Shit, I didn’t think about that. I lower her slowly until her feet touch the ground, lifting her away from my body so she doesn’t think I’m trying to feel her up. She stands in front of me, flustered and sweaty in her black sports bra and tiny shorts that shouldn’t be called clothing. Her eyes are so blue, and right now in the early morning light, they look almost crystal-clear. Pure. She has a strand of hair falling loose from her ponytail, so I reach out to brush it away from her face and she flinches. Just a split-second, but I saw it. I take that as a signal that my touch is unwanted and lower my hand, letting her adjust her hair herself. I may have come on too strong. Trying to match her feistiness seems to have backfired on me so I try a different approach.

“Roe, would you please let me walk you home? I don’t feel comfortable letting you go back by yourself.”

She doesn’t answer for a second, then two, and finally she speaks. “Agh, sure,” she says, putting her hands on her hips and stomping away. I stand there just staring at her. After a few steps, she turns around and asks, “Well, are you coming?”

I jog slightly to catch up with her and fall into comfortable silence, walking by her.

The walk to her house is serene. We don’t see many people, and the only sounds are the wind and the few animals we encounter along the way. Nature surrounds us and the soft orange and pink hues of the morning envelop us in what feels like a hug. We don’t talk—we don’t even look at each other. We just coexist, feeling minuscule in this broad space.

We make it to her house without concern. Stopping at the door, Roe turns and sighs. “You didn’t have to walk me home…but thanks.”

“Ooohhh, so you do know how to be nice!” I snark. “Good to know that it’s just me you hate, and not the rest of the world.”

“Are you gonna make me regret being nice, Saint? Or are you gonna appreciate it while it lasts?”

Contestona y respondona ? 1 , así como me gusta. ? 2 “Touché, touché.”

We stand in awkward silence, not knowing what to say. At least, I don’t know what to say – I doubt Roe says anything she doesn’t want to. Opening the door without a key, she steps inside and signals for me to walk in. I hesitate, not knowing what to expect, and questioning this is a genuine invitation. I’m about to turn around and leave when she sighs, “Are you gonna come in or what?”

I raise my eyebrows at her, waiting to see if she’s serious.

She groans. “Saint, I don’t bite. You’re probably thirsty and the least I can do is give you some water. Stop being stubborn and come in.”

“But you did bite,” I snark, but it may be too soon for jokes because she gives me a side-eye.

She lets me go past her into her house, but before I can get too far, she says, “No shoes in the house.”

I turn around and see her removing her shoes and waiting for me to do the same. I don’t want her to suddenly change her mind, so I take my shoes off quickly too even if I don’t want to. So damn bossy. She walks by me, passing the wall full of threaded knick-knacks and Halloween decorations. Halloween? It ’ s the middle of the summer.

She looks up and down at me, quietly assessing my movements and when she notices my eyes scanning the Halloween decorations she smirks and says, “Every season is spooky season, come on in and sit down. Stop being nosy.”

I laugh again, partially at being caught but mostly at the fact that there are skeletons, cauldrons, and spider webs in the middle of a wall with what looks like a beige sun catcher. It must be eighty degrees in here too, which is bizarre.

“Is your AC broken?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Do you have the habit of being rude in other people’s homes?” she deadpans.

I should’ve known better, truly. “I’m sorry, it’s just warm in here.”

“I like it warm, anything lower and I have to wear a sweater.”

“Oh, okay. It’s not too bad, it just took me by surprise.” A lot of things about this girl seem to have that effect.

Her kitchen and living room are in the same space. An open concept that gives her house the feel of being huge. Bright and airy, my mother would say. All her furniture is beige, except for a terracotta rug, and there are plants everywhere. Vines, tall plants, a little pink one, and even one that looks black. On the table next to a little plant with pink dots sits a plate full of exactly what she said she had for breakfast this morning; even the little container with what I assume is coconut oil.

She follows my eyes to the plate and sighs exasperatedly. She sits on the ground in what feels like one split-second, bringing her knees up and placing her head against them. She shakes her head, and her knuckles turn white from squeezing her thighs so hard. She’s leaving marks on her legs, and I am at a loss. Do I sit next to her and hug her? Do I rub her back? Do I leave? I’ve never second-guessed myself before on how to soothe a woman, but she seems to be apprehensive to my touch and I don’t want to make it worse.

She continues sitting in that position, but now she’s tapping her fingers in a pattern: thumb, middle finger, index finger two times, ring finger, pinky, repeat. She ’ s self-soothing . I give her a few minutes and some space, stepping into her kitchen where I find a cup full of water. I grab it and turn around to find her standing. Her eyes are glossy, like she’s holding back tears, and I hope it’s not because I’m here. I can leave. I don’t want to, but I would.

I walk toward her to give her the water, which she takes, grabs a straw from the countertop, and drinks more than half of it.

“I can leave if it makes you feel more comfortable,” I offer, hoping she says I don’t have to.

“Nah, it’s fine. It looks like I forgot to eat this morning. I clearly made the breakfast but then didn’t eat it, which is not uncommon. Then I felt extremely overwhelmed just thinking about how stupid that was and how much worse it could’ve been if you hadn’t found me. I spiraled but I’m fine now, scouts honor. Also, thank you,” she says, raising her hand by her face and flashing me a smile. Damn that smile.

“Okay, well then, maybe eat now?”

“No shit, Sherlock. I’ll heat it up. Are you hungry? We can split this.”

“I’m good, I’ve overextended my stay. I’m gonna head home,” I add calmly.

She nods, grabs her plate, and puts it in the microwave. She walks to the fridge and when she opens it. There’s no food in there; just an obscene amount of seltzers, milk and some sports drinks. I raise my eyebrows at her, which feels like all I’ve done lately.

“What?! I own a bar! I get a lot of free samples. Want one? Or is it too early for you to drink, Saint?” she sasses. I shake my head, so she gets two bottles of water out. She tosses one to me and walks to get her food out of the microwave. She grabs two forks from the drawer and extends one to me in an offering but I gently decline.

“I’m good, really. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeap,” she says, popping the ‘p.’ “You can go now. You saved me. Thanks, I guess.”

I start heading out of her house, but an uneasy feeling stays with me and I can’t shake it. As I reach for the handle I turn around and ask, “Hey, Roe?”

“Yeah?” she shouts from the kitchen.

“Can I run with you tomorrow morning?” I am putting myself on the line here. She clearly hates my guts, but I can’t leave her feeling like she’s putting herself in danger again.

“I don’t need saving,” she sasses, narrowing her eyes at me.

“So you’ve said,” I add and pause, giving my voice a second to settle and not show my frustration before continuing, “Maybe I want company?”

“From me? You literally could run with anyone else and they’ll probably do it gladly.”

“I don’t know many people here, and the time I like to run doesn’t match my friends’ schedule, but clearly it matches yours.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Just forget I asked.”

I open the door but before I step out, she shouts, “Be here at 4:40am tomorrow.”

Check.

1 ? Contestona y respondona: Someone who talks back or sassy.

2 ? así como me gusta: Just how I like it