I shoved the bread into my mouth.
Thirty-Three
October. Two things due to bookend the month: our final wedding payment at its end, round four of Soulmails pending toward its beginning.
Weekends were the only respite from the constant go-go-go pace of media. The first Saturday, I was desperate for a run.
Every time I used my fingers to press face SPF into my pores, I regretted not wearing it daily in my twenties. While I waited for it to dry, I slipped into an all-black, slightly worn-out pair of leggings and tank top, quickly ponytail-braided my hair, and jammed a baseball hat on top.
On my way toward Central Park, I called Aunt Josie. Last week, I’d posted Natalie’s pictures and videos of our stay at her cottage, and one of my followers unearthed the address and shared the rental listing in the comments. I maneuvered past a bodega with fresh fruits and winced. “I’m so sorry, Auntie.”
Josie barked a laugh. “Are you kidding me, bingo-bingo?” My aunt has never called me the same thing twice. It used to irritate Mom, but it amused me. “When I started getting hits, I jacked up the price. I’m booked for two straight years. I owe you a dinner to thank you.”
One positive of social media. The news buoyed my run. I was fast, sweat sprawling my spine, my upper lip, my forehead, beneath my hat. Fall sunlight slanted through the trees, and leaves crunched beneath my rubber soles. I made it to CentralPark before slowing, and nearly stopping, because that was when I saw him.
Because the museum was on the west side of the park, I’d purposefully steered toward the east side. But to my surprise, Caleb was near the entrance to the zoo. For a moment, I panicked he was on a date or something, but he appeared to be alone. When he saw me, he lit up.
“How can I not see you for fifteen years and then suddenly run into you everywhere?” I asked, panting. Pretending he didn’t break our last several plans. Pretending he hadn’t ghosted me, that I hadn’t seen him since Natalie’s party, when he’d dipped so suddenly.
Pretending this wasn’t freaking me out.
“Maybe we passed by each other all the time and didn’t know it,” he said. His eyes darkened. “Though, never mind. I’d have recognized you anywhere.”
The thrill started south of my belly button. I worked to ignore it. “What are you doing?”
He cocked his head. He’d lost his summer tan, which made his features stand out. “Well, childhood friend. I’m going rollerblading.”
“You don’t have Rollerblades.”
“Step one of this endeavor? Swinging by the rental stand.” His smile sharpened his cheekbones. “What are you doing, besides coming with me?”
It was brazen, sort of flirty, but also just wholly and completely Caleb. My smile was overtaking me. “I can’t rollerblade. Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s your lucky day. They have pads and helmets, too.”
When we were both properly suited, we started slow. Caleb’s skills were evident right away. “Thought you’d be better at this, Adler,” he teased. “It’s the same thing as ice-skating.”
I grunted. “I used to be.”
“I remember. You could do one of those turns.”
“Axels.”
“Who taught you how?”
“Me.” I wobbled. “I taught myself.”
“What happened?”
I pushed off, testing my balance. My glutes squeezed, already the good kind of sore from my run. I was going to regret this tomorrow. I glided down a hill, its slope coming faster than I expected. I bent my knees in an “oh, shit” subway stance until the hill crested, and I slowed. My heart pounded. I was alive.
“My doctor told me I couldn’t ice-skate anymore,” I said. “Said I had a fifty percent chance of tearing the other ACL.”
His eyes widened. “Oh. Crap. Want to stop?”
“Not at all.” I made a shaky loop. Exhilaration swirled in me, and I thought:buoyant. I slanted my eyes his way. He stopped skating to meet my glance. The afternoon sunlight warmed each of us in a soft glow. I felt like a kid again, and I took off so he could chase me.
“I have to ask you something important,” Caleb said once he’d caught up.
