I know it’s not fair. I barely even know where it’s coming from, but I can’t stop the way I’m snapping at him. Between the lack of sleep, the prying eyes, my poor running and Noah’s crush, there’s too much happening for me to muffle my discomfort. So instead, it’s all pouring out of my mouth and spilling onto Noah and his new perfect woman.
He scoffs with certainty. ‘She’s not the love of my life.’
‘How would you know?’ I ask, voice clipped.
I can’t keep talking and moving. I halt in place, turning to face Noah as he does the same. The gesture, while sweet in intention, just makes my whole plight feel even more tragic. A wave of shame hits me so hard it hurtles me right through to anger.
‘You’re so closed off to the possibility of actually opening up that you won’t even try with these women. That is, of course, unless they’re already taken. Right?’ The last part flies out of my mouth venomously, shocking even myself. We grow silent, my chest rising and falling vigorously as I scramble my brain for an apology. But I can’t speak; I’m all out of breath, let alone words. He opens his mouth to speak, before dropping his eyes and shaking his head.
‘You’re right. I’ll go chat to her,’ he says eventually.
I gulp, raising my chin. ‘Thank you.’
I feel my heart sink ever so slightly as he runs away, and yearn to catch up and make immediate amends. But it’s for the best. That random outburst of bitterness is probably a pretty good sign that we need some space. Plus, I was only holding him back and it’s better that I get through this run on my own.
Although, I don’t feel too alone.
I feel eyes burning my skin and in my peripheral vision find the woman who looked and laughed at me before. She spots me staring instantly, but she doesn’t remotely shy away. Instead, she rises to the challenge, jogging over and flashing me a smile and a raised eyebrow.
‘First time?’ she asks unabashedly.
She matches me step for step, braided ponytail swishing from side to side. I look down at her shoes – bright white and very high-tech. The kind of chunky shoes in sports-shop windows that cost a small fortune. She’s dressed like a pro, controls her breaths like a pro, so why is she lurking at the back of the pack?
‘Prominte, myslela jsem, že jste Anglican,’she says.
I stare back blankly. ‘I’m sorry I—’
‘So youareEnglish?’ she presses on.
I nod lightly, then gather all my strength and up my pace, pulling ahead to try to catch her out, but she adjusts effortlessly, never leaving my side.
‘Oh, so you’re just quiet.’ She giggles, watching closely.
‘Try out of breath.’
I stare down at the cobbles, ploughing along and waiting for her to gain traction and leave me to the back of the pack yet again. But as I look up, I catch her still in my peripheral vision. A soft smile resting prettily on her face.
‘What’s your name?’ she asks.
‘Amorie,’ I say breathlessly.
‘I’m Mala.’ She looks me up and down. ‘Shall we take a break?’
‘We’ll lose the group,’ I say, the worry seeping through.
Although it seems like I may already be too late. I glance ahead, noting the rows of coloured buildings, the morning sun seeping through, but no runners. They’re so far gone I wouldn’t know where to turn. My heart drops.
‘They do the same route every day,’ she says breezily. ‘End at this juice bar – I know where it is. I also know a shortcut through the park. We could grab a pastry, maybe still get there before them.’
I object meekly. ‘But . . . the run.’
She gives me a once-over. ‘You don’t look like you really like to run.’
I can’t help but laugh. ‘Is it that obvious?’
She smiles back at me. It’s playful, warming. I feel a fizz shoot up my stomach and culminate in a grin. It’s enough to make me slow my near crawl of a jog to a halt, as she mirrors me happily.
Now that we’re stationary I have the opportunity to properly take her in, in all of her glory. She’s taller than me – toned, yet curvy, with braids running down her back, wearing a set of coral leggings and a matching sports bra. The colour pops against her smooth, dark-brown skin, the peeking part of her stomach revealing her flat, sculpted midriff. I try not to stare, but she’s mesmerising – almost too gorgeous for words. Far too gorgeous to be talking to me.
