Superposition (Starting Position Sequel)

Chapter 7

"You're unusually quiet today," Ian wheezed beside me.

We were over halfway into the three-mile cross country run through the wooded trails – Ian and I bringing up the back – but I could have been anywhere; my mind was so distracted that it wasn't registering my surroundings. It was a miracle I hadn't tripped and face-planted yet. It was Ian's first run since crawling out of our bedroom after his extended stay. I was pleased my threat to stop bringing him food worked, but he apparently noticed my reticence.

"It's just this run – it's killing me," I lied.

Ian sputtered, still panting heavily. "Runs don't kill you, Ben. They kill me." He drew another ragged breath. "That's our dynamic. You talk my ear off while running, and I shoot you annoyed, breathless glances."

I slowed my pace. "It's nothing." I twitched then added, "Really, it's nothing – I've just... it's stupid."

"What?" Ian asked, matching my decreased speed and inhaling appreciatively.

With Ian now curiously waiting for me to elaborate, I suddenly felt foolish. He and I had hit it off quickly after we had been introduced as roommates, and it hadn't taken us long to form a friendship. Ian was easy to talk to – he was one of the rare people who made me feel ordinary, like he saw me as I was. It had been this way since we met. Despite this, I hesitated before I spoke my mind.

"Ben, what?" he asked again.

"It's just," I exhaled as I dodged around a fallen branch on the trail. "It's Elliot."

Ian's gasping turned into a strangled choke. "Elliot? Your Elliot? Our Elliot," he clarified in disbelief.

"Yeah."

"What could possibly be wrong with Elliot?"

We had about a half mile left to run, and I wished I decided to bring this up closer to the end so as to avoid the conversation. Ian may lend a listening ear, but I felt stupid at disclosing my uncertainty about our relationship to him; however, the hesitation was now gone, as the words fell from my mouth:

"I had this weird conversation with her roommate the other night."

Ian twisted his neck, exposing a furrowed brow. "Okay?"

The memory of Elaine sitting across the table while inquiring about living with CP was now clear. I wiped sweat away from my forehead. "She asked me all these weird questions about having CP."

"Weird, how?"

"Weird, like weird. She started asking me what it was like growing up and then questioned the ethics of having a child with CP."

Ian's brows scrunched further. "That is weird."

"Yeah."

"But what's it got to do with Elliot?"

I revisited this question many times wondering if I was blowing it out of proportion. There were times when I thought I'd smoothed it out, but then I'd be sitting in class or doing homework, and the thought would return – an endless wrinkle.

"She made it seem like..." I trailed, as we jogged around a bend. "Like it would be a crime or something if Elliot and I had kids."

Ian was silent for a few moments, and I couldn't muster the courage to take in his expression. I knew how it sounded. Ridiculous. It sounded ridiculous, but still...

"Okay," he drawled. "You've said some crazy things to me, Ben – like crazy chemistry shit – but that is by far the craziest."

"I know," I responded quickly, running a hand over my forehead again. "Trust me, but you should have seen her roommate. She was rattling all this stuff off about having a child with CP, and she made it seem like Elliot was wasting her time with me, and it just made me wonder."