“Fuck off.”
I get off the machine and wipe it down, walking to the hamper and chucking the towel in. I scoop my drawstring bag up and head to the showers.
I’m dripping now.
The slow crawl of sweat down my spine is pissing me off more.
“What’s going on?” Cam follows but I ignore him. What is he going to do, follow me into the showers? I open the door. It rattles off the wall, and I march to the back, finding a stall. I take my towel out of the bag and hang it up. I do laundry once a week at the local laundromat, and I have a couple of spare towels in the trunk of my car. I also have a couple of pairs of dress pants and shirts, and a few spare gym clothes I bought when we moved.
If I didn’t have the gym, I’d go insane.
Looks like I’m going insanewiththe gym.
I take off my sweaty clothes and put them in a spare plastic bag I pulled out of my bag. Then I step under the hot spray and shut my eyes and scrub my hair. I wash my body. I just want this to stop. I can’t take it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.
I have to work tomorrow.
I could break in instead, and steal it myself right now. Hell, I could tell him what I’m doing, and he’d hate me for lying then never want to see me again. Maybe I should do that.
Why don’t I want to?
It’s not that I don’t want to tell him. I do. I want to confess everything, but I’m afraid of the road that might take me down. At the end of the day, this is for my sister. Find the statue, then Ivan gives me freedom.
Only, I don’t believe him. I don’t. If there’s a situation to manipulate, Ivan will be right there to see it happen.
I rinse and shut the water off, then I towel dry and slip into a clean pair of gym shorts. Leaving my shirt off, I walk out of the stall, startling when Cam is standing right outside the showers. “So, what’s wrong?”
“Cam. Go look in a mirror. Take a good look. That’s what’s wrong. Leave me alone!”
“Come on, man. I know something’s wrong.” He follows me to the sink, and I reach into my bag to find my toothpaste and toothbrush.
“What are you doing?”
I look at him, shaking my head and brushing my teeth. “The fuck does it look like?”
“Can I ask why you always work out at night?”
“Because that’s when I fucking do it. Happy?”
He shrugs. “Can I ask another question?”
“No.”
“I’m going to ask anyway.”And I’m going to punch him.“Are you staying in your car?”
Cold spreads through my veins. “What?”
“No judgement at all. I promise. I’m just wondering. You shower every single time, and like... that’s not weird, some people don’t want to wait until they get home, but like... you do it every single day without fail.”
“Cam—”
“And you wash your face, brush your teeth... I see?—”
“Cam—”
Cam lowers his voice. “Do you need help?”
I whirl on him. “Please stop talking.” I glare at him. “Please.” I clear my throat. “I need to go.”
