Bella rolls her eyes. “Fucking hell, now I need to see.”
I wait patiently as Bella takes a gander at my piece. Moments later she walks out with Pia, grinning.
“Sloane’s bod is hot!”
Becca flicks her in the ear but laughs. “Bella, not the point.”
“Nope, the point is, you’re going to have to see her, Eden. Get it out of the way so you can both figure out how to move forward. If she’s sticking around town, you don’twanna be living on tenterhooks all the time,” Pia says, and she’s right.
I’m going to have to see Sloane sooner rather than later.
6
Sloane
I’m on a roll. Yesterday I saw Becca for the first time in almost two years, and today I’m taking the plunge and seeking out Eden. I slept like crap last night, worrying about bumping into her. Originally, I wanted to give our inevitable meeting a little more time, for both our sakes. However, now that I know Eden is close by, and more than likely aware of my presence in town, I need to get it over with. I’d rather deal with the fallout now than spend weeks imagining the worst.
Before I do anything, though, I’m going for a run. I’ve missed the hiking trails since being away, and what bettertime to get some fresh air than the morning of what could be either the best or worst day of my life since returning home?
Lacing up my sneakers, I take several cleansing breaths, readying myself for a tough workout. I’m not as fit and flexible as I was in high school, but I’m sure I could still do a few backflips. I won’t try in case I hurt myself. Some cardio will have to be enough.
I’ve already spent an hour meditating and writing my anxieties in a journal. There is a whole box of journals under my bed, stuffed with worries and overanalyzed thoughts. At first, I couldn’t see the point in writing all the crap down, but my therapist asked me to stick with it and I’m glad I did. Now, instead of letting the negative thoughts and emotions live rent-free in my mind, I can extract them to paper, read the words and for the most part dilute them until they no longer play any significant role in my mood.
There’s something about seeing my anxieties in print that helps me view them for the false facts they are. Don’t get me wrong: some worries are totally valid, and I have to deal with them a little differently. But for the thoughts that my brain conjures, which aren’t based in fact but stem from fear, this is a great way to get them out of my head before they do any real damage.
Considering the stakes, I’m relatively relaxed this morning. All my techniques are working, and I know running will help with the abundance of adrenaline trying to flood my system. I’ve chosen to run the route Eden and I hiked—more than once, actually. It was the hike I took her on our first date/non-date when we initially started talking back in senior year.
I still chuckle to myself when I think of Eden and how out of breath she was from the small hill halfway through the walk. She was so pouty it was adorable. I think it was the first real bit of exercise she’d done since being a kid.
Stretching out my body, I fit my earbuds and connect my phone. I’ve got several playlists for running, but this morning I’m listening to one of the playlists Eden made me. Over the years it helped me feel close to her, even if it was a form of self-torture.
Starting off with a light jog, I pass by the main house and wave at my mom, who is in the kitchen. The sun is already shining brightly, even though it’s still relatively early. We’re in for a hot day, that I intend to spend lazing by the pool once I’ve hopefully spoken with Eden.
My mind wanders as I pick up my pace. I try not to get in the habit of predicting anymore, because that’s how I get myself in a mess mentally. I can’t know how Eden willreact, or what she’ll say to me—if anything. It’s a struggle not to let my mind make up worst-case scenarios, but that’s just another facet of having an anxiety disorder I have to live with and accept.
The ground changes from asphalt to sandy rubble as I turn off the road and enter the trail. My heart rate is already elevated, and I’m feeling energized enough that I want to push even harder. Pumping my arms, I engage my entire body until I’m struggling for breath. Thankfully I make it to the top before my lungs give out. Wow, I’ve not pushed myself like that in a while. The gym doesn’t quite hit the same as a run in the wilds of Colorado.
What I didn’t account for when I chose to run the trail today was just how emotional I would feel when faced with the lookout point I brought Eden to all those years ago. It’s not the exercise that’s stealing my breath now, but the heavy weight of regret and pain. I’m only twenty-two and yet I feel like I’ve already suffered through the greatest loss of my life. Four years ago, I referred to Eden as my white whale. I summoned the courage to talk to her, flirt with her, and eventually call her mine.
I’ll never forgive my disorder for robbing me of the love Eden held for me. Out of all the things I have to come to terms with, that’s the hardest thing.
There is a small voice that whispers messages of hope. It’s a voice I don’t hear very often because it gets drowned out by the negative, but now and then, it comes through loud and clear. Today is one of those times. I can hope Eden will let me apologize and begin to repair our friendship, if nothing else.
A part of me wonders if Becca and Jenna will put in a good word for me. I don’t expect it, and I would never ask it of them, but they were both a lot more welcoming than I’d expected, and it seemed their main concern was my well-being. Will they pass that on to Eden?
Jumping up and down, I shake out my limbs, not wanting my muscles to get cold. I could probably spend the day standing here looking out over our vista, but I need to get moving.
Turning on my heel, I push off, ready to sprint home when my body collides with something tall and solid. A “yip” escapes my mouth as I tumble backwards straight to the ground. Oof, my ass is going to feel that in the morning.
A little dazed, I assess my body to see if I’ve broken anything. I haven’t, by all accounts…maybe my ego. I must have looked like a flailing giraffe, although I’m not that tall.
Scrambling to my feet, I finally look at the object I slammed into. Shit. Oh dear Lord, it wasn’t an object butanother human being that I am intimately familiar with. A body I’ve not felt in…take a guess. That’s right, two years.
Eden is still on the ground, sprawled out looking up at me with wide eyes. I’m standing over her, staring down with the same expression.
Suddenly, she barks out a laugh and drops her head so she’s fully lying down. Her head shakes, and she brings her hands to her face, hiding her continued laughter.
No words form. All I can do is stare at her. She’s dressed in black quarter-length running pants and a tight black tank top. Nothing I haven’t seen her in before, but damn, she looks amazing, even though she’s hiding away from me and laughing hysterically.
