Going Long (7 page)

My playlist went through once
again, and I was panting heavily. My eyes were wide and focused on the window
in front of me, and I barely registered the blurs of color passing through the
reflection. People were here, in the gym with me. I pulled one ear bud from my
ear, and I heard the clanking of weights and the smashing of racquetballs
behind me. It must have been near lunchtime. “I should stop.”

I was about to attempt a walking
speed again when things turned yellow—then black. The funny thing about
exhaustion is you don’t really see it coming. There aren’t any warning signs,
at least not when your head is as messed up as mine was. I remember my
surroundings went bright, a golden yellow like I was suddenly thrust under a
heat lamp. My balance was thrown, and I stepped to the side in an attempt to
regain it. That’s when I felt the zip of my other foot whirl by my now
stationary one and felt the smack of my face hitting the conveyer belt, my legs
twisting and my vision suddenly fading to black.

I awoke to the sting of an ice
pack on my forehead. I was laying flat on my back and the room was spinning
above me, the air conditioning was making a whooshing sound over my eardrums.

“Hey you,” a voice was calling
to me, but my eyes couldn’t yet focus. When I was finally able to make out the
soft white towel being pressed to my face and recognized what it was, I let my
vision focus on everything else. Suddenly Gavin was there. “Ah, there she is,”
he said, his mouth forming a stretched smile, pushing dimples into each of his
cheeks.

“Wha…happened?” I was still
pretty woozy, and suddenly I felt like vomiting. I grabbed hard onto Gavin’s
arm and pulled myself into a sitting position, slapping my other hand over my
mouth and gesturing to him that I thought I might be sick.

“Oh, got it. Let’s get you
somewhere. Here, hold onto me,” he lifted me to his side and supported my
weight as he walked me from the circle of people who had gathered around us to
the lobby of benches near the drinking fountain. The women’s locker room was
really close, and I was pretty sure I needed to go in there. I looked over at
the door. Gavin understood what I was saying and leaned against it, yelling
inside to see if anyone was in there.

“Free and clear. Come on, let’s
go,” he said, sliding over a maintenance sign so he could walk me into the
ladies locker room. Once I got to the sink and splashed some water on my face,
the nausea I was fighting against started to fade. I gripped the counter by the
sink and turned my head up to take in my reflection. I was ghost white and my
hair was drenched with sweat. I couldn’t tell if it was from the running or my
fainting spell.

“Are you feeling okay?” Gavin
asked, reaching over to steady me as he walked me back through the main door. A
few women were waiting outside and gave him a skeptical look when he removed
the maintenance sign and smiled at them as we walked by. I started to lose my
balance a bit again and caught myself on the nearby bench.

“Okay, that’s it. You’re going
to get checked out by someone,” Gavin said as he started to walk to the main
front desk.

“No, I’m fine. Really. I just
overdid it,” I tried to stop him.

He paused for a moment and
pulled one side of his mouth up to consider what I was telling him. Then he
shook his head
no
quickly and continued to the front desk where the girl
working there ogled him as he leaned over the counter and pointed toward me.
Her flirtatious smile soon faded into a frown as she looked at me. She got up
and walked into the back offices and came out with one of the sports trainers
and the three of them approached me.

“She was running and then I
looked over and saw her completely go limp on the treadmill. She hit her head
pretty hard, and she was out for several seconds,” Gavin explained to the man
who was now kneeling in front of me with a medic box filled with gauze and
ointments, none of which could do anything to solve what was wrong with
me. 

“Hmmmm,” the man considered for
a moment. “Do you mind going into our back office and grabbing one of the big
water bottles for me?” Gavin just nodded and jogged to the back rooms
immediately. When he was gone, I just brought my pathetic and embarrassed gaze
up to meet Mr. Trainer’s.

He smiled at me softly and
reached up to grab my wrist to test my pulse. “I’m Chris. Can you tell me your
name?” he said, watching the seconds on his watch and staring at my eyes to
follow their movement.

“I’m Nolan,” I said, quiet and
mortified.

“Nolan, nice to meet you,” he
smiled again, that fake smile someone gives when they’re suspicious of you and
trying to unravel your mystery. “Your pulse seems okay. Can you tell me, have
you ever fallen like this before? Do you know how much water you’ve had today?
Were you feeling dizzy before you started your workout? Did you trip? Do you
feel nauseous…?” Chris was hitting me with question after question before I
could even answer. My head was bobbing back and forth, like I was watching a
tennis match just trying to respond and keep up with him. I was hearing his
words echo, and my heart rate was racing again when I had a sudden break.

“I just had a miscarriage,” I
said, slapping my hand over my mouth and closing my eyes tight trying to force
the reality back into hiding.

I felt Chris’s hands on my wrist
again, pulling my hand from my face and forcing me to look at him. “Okay.
That’s definitely what led to you passing out. And it’s okay, Nolan. Do you
hear me? It’s okay. You probably shouldn’t be working out now, though. You are
likely extremely dehydrated, and your body is exhausted. Do you…I mean have
you…talked to anyone?” Chris was being careful with me. I didn’t like feeling
so weak, so I straightened my posture and shook my head with my last vestiges
of confidence.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, forcing
myself to stand and dry my tears. My legs still felt wobbly, but I wasn’t going
to let anyone here see that.

“Okay, well…you really need to
see someone. It can help. What happened…it’s not something that’s uncommon. But
it’s also not something that is easy to deal with always,” Chris seemed
uncomfortable. So was I.

“I’m fine, really,” I forced
again, giving him a flat smile and willing him to drop it.

“All right, I hear you. I’d just
feel better if you at least met with one of the physicians at the health center
today. Hmmmm?” Chris nodded at me, begging me to consider.

“I have an appointment Tuesday,”
I was defensive now, even my false pleasantries gone.

He just stared at me in silence
for a few seconds, considering his move. “I’m not trying to be intrusive. I’m
only looking out for your health here. You shouldn’t wait until Tuesday. Maybe
just drop by for an urgent care visit, huh?” he was really trying. I gave in
and nodded.

I saw Gavin walking up with the
bottle of water, and I reached out to shake Chris’s hand. “Thanks. I appreciate
your advice,” I forced a closed mouth smile then grabbed the bottle of water
from Gavin. “Can you walk me to the Health Center, and then home? It seems I’m
dehydrated and need some rest.”

“Sure,” Gavin said, pulling my
arm over his shoulder once again, letting me lean most of my weight on him.
“Let’s go. Thanks for looking her over.”

Chris the trainer just smiled
tightly, nodding, and packed up his small, useless box. I made eye contact with
him and could tell he had thought he’d put my puzzle together. But he wasn’t
even close.

Reed

I’d managed to sleep hard last
night after going a few rounds with Jason. He was already bitching about having
to take my dad to an appointment next week in Tucson, like it was some major
inconvenience—never mind the fact that he’d be driving into town to take
care of business at the Tucson dealerships anyhow.

Sometime over the past year, I’d
started challenging my brother. I don’t know if it was something that changed
inside of me, maturity perhaps, or if my brother had just managed to become yet
an even bigger asshole.

Dylan stopped by my pop’s house
on her way from Tucson to Phoenix to run through a few scenarios with me and to
pass along some messages from her father. We sat at the counter and went over
some things and Jason—not to miss out on the attention from a hot
blonde—pulled up a seat to join us, quickly taking over the conversation.
Dylan seemed to be annoyed by his presence at first. But when I mentioned some
of my hesitation over everything and how it was going to affect Nolan, she was
suddenly won over by my dickhead brother’s insensitivity.

“You’re such a pussy over that
girl. When you go big time, you’re going to have chicks throwing themselves at
you. You’ll be so over your cute, little high school fuck. Don’t make life
decisions because of it,” he said. What a dickhead. I hated him.

I just stood at his words,
looked at Dylan, who was smirking at my brother’s comments, and told her I was
done for the night and would call her next week. I shoved my brother from his
barstool so hard that he fell to the floor, and I went upstairs. To think there
was actually a time in my life when I looked up to that prick.

I was starving by the time I
woke up for breakfast. It had been months since I’d been able to sleep in past
8 a.m., let alone until 10. I threw on a pair of shorts and my old high school
championship shirt and jogged down the stairs only to find Jason sitting at the
breakfast bar, sheets of his newspaper spread out across every inch of surface
and a plate of waffles stacked in front of him.

“Mornin’ shithead,” he said,
raising his cup of coffee and not looking up from his paper.

“Fuck off,” I said right back at
him.

When I realized Rose was there,
finishing up a plate for me and prepping a breakfast tray to take upstairs to
dad, I instantly felt embarrassed and guilty for using those words in front of
her. Rose had known me almost as long as my parents and was, in many ways, like
an aunt to me. She’d lost her husband years ago and had two grown sons that
were both in the military,
lifers
she always said. I think it made her
lonely, which is probably why she didn’t mind spending so much time with my
pops.

“Sorry, Rosie,” I said, leaning
over to kiss her cheek, which she had extended out for me.

“It’s okay, mijo...,” she urged
me to come in close, then whispered, “he deserved it.” She gave me a wink and
then slid my plate on the counter and retreated upstairs with a full breakfast
spread for my dad.

I picked at my plate a bit
before diving in, my stomach rolling with hunger pangs, but also conflicted
with anger at my brother and what he said about Nolan. I was pretty sure he
knew how pissed off I was because he had buried his face in the business
section and refused to even glance my way. I just stared at him while I
drenched my waffles in syrup, fighting the urge to send my fist through his
jaw. “You’re such a dick,” I said a little under my breath. I bowed my head and
took a bite but could tell he had glanced up when I said it, tilting his paper
down for a second, and then raising it back up.

“Whatever,” he wasn’t even
phased.

Stuffed on Rosie’s amazing
breakfast, I brought my plate to the sink and was rinsing it when I heard feet
sliding down the stairs. I did a double take when I looked up, and it took a
few seconds for my eyes to finally focus and relay the message to my brain of
what I was seeing.

“Good morning,” Dylan said as
she passed me and went to the fridge to pull out the carton of orange juice.
She turned around while she was shaking it. “Glasses?”

I just stood there dumbstruck,
my brain unwilling to make the connections of what likely had happened last
night. I motioned to the cabinet next to the fridge, and Dylan just nodded and
turned to get her glass. While she was pouring her juice, I looked over at
Jason who still had his fucking nose in the newspaper. I pushed the pages from
his hands flat to the counter and mouthed, “What the fuck?” to him. He just
smiled and shrugged, then picked the paper back up.

Dylan slid a stool over next to
him and turned sideways to swing her legs over his lap, which was maybe the
only thing that finally got him to put his paper down. When he leaned over and
kissed her and smiled as she nestled into his neck, I was floored.

“Okay, what the hell is going
on?” I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“What does it look like?” Jason
said, sliding his coffee cup over to me and motioning for me to fill it up.
“You mind?”

I just shook my head, my eyes
bulging from my face, I was sure. I grabbed his mug and filled it with what was
left of the morning’s brew. I slid it back to him and then looked again at
Dylan, who was now hiding her face a little from me, perhaps a little
embarrassed.

“Reed, I hope you don’t mind,
but I borrowed one of your shirts,” she said, pulling up the collar a bit to
show me.

I just stared, speechless, and
turned for the living room. I flopped on the couch and put on Sports Center to
take my mind away from the soap opera that was no doubt unfolding in the
kitchen, somehow my future tangled up with it, too. “Fucking Jason,” I thought.

I zoned out for about 45 minutes
before I heard the sound of the breakfast stools skid on the floor and turned
to see Dylan cleaning up the counter, her bare legs barely covered in my long
shirt. I had to admit, I understood why Jason couldn’t help himself. But I
would never quite understand what was in it for her. I turned back to the TV
and then glanced down at my watch.

“Is it seriously 11 already?” I
asked, stretching and getting to my feet.

“Yeah, you slept most of the
morning away,” Jason said, folding up his paper and pushing it into the recycle
bin. “You get a day off, and you waste it.” His tone was condescending.

My jaw clenched and I held my
response in. “I’m just waiting for Nolan,” I said, realizing she probably
should have been here by now.

“Oh! I totally forgot,” Dylan
said, wiping down the counter and not really paying attention to me. “She came
by this morning. Early.”

I was waiting for her to tell me
more, and when I realized she wasn’t going to, I urged her on. “Uh, yeah? What
did she say?” I had my hands held out to my sides, waiting.

“Nothing. It was really early. I
was the only one up, so I told her you were still sleeping,” she started toward
the stairs. Suddenly, a suspicion flared inside me.

“Hey, Dylan? Were you in my
shirt when you went to the door?” I asked, already knowing but hoping
nonetheless.

“Uh, yeah,” she rolled her eyes
at me and darted up the stairs.

“Shit!” I pulled my phone from
my pocket and saw a text from Nolan.

So much for never.

“Goddamn it!” I grabbed my keys
from the counter and rushed to the door, sliding into a pair of flip-flops.
Jason had put it together, too, and just started bellowing with laughter, like
it was the fucking funniest thing he’d ever seen. I really did hate him.