Running With Her Heart

Chapter 6: I Can't Focus and Run

Runners Song: 2 Heads By: Coleman Hell

When I run it's hard to focus. Running takes everything I have. My thoughts jumble slightly because of it. When living day to day I have a slight control over my thoughts. Running makes me lose control of that though. I think whatever comes into my mind. That's part of why I like running. I don't have to think about what I'm going to think. I just think. Which is also part of why I hate running.

The sun shines brightly over the horizon of other roofs. I'm already wearing my shirt, shorts, and my hairs in a ponytail as I step out. Only my shoes remain off. I clutch my runners in my hands and nearly drop them when I face the porch steps. Jonathan sits there wearing sneakers, defiantly not shoes he plans on running in. I check my phone and sure enough he's even earlier than normal. Beside him rests his regular runners.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I'm here for our run," he says as though it should be obvious.

"I know that," I say sitting down next to him. "But why so early."

"I'm keeping up with our new tradition." I give him a blank stare. "You know, tying our shoes on the steps."

"I'm pretty sure in order for something to become a tradition actually have to have done the thing first."

"Then sit down and tie your shoes," he commands. So I do. I start untying my shoes and then relacing them once on my feet.

"See isn't this fun?" Jonathan asks me while he ties a bow with one lace then the other.

"Yup, tons of fun. Awkward silence. That's not only my favourite type of silence but my favourite type of fun," I joke.

"Well, whose fault is that? We could be having a decant conversation right now if it wasn't for your insistence on silence."

"I only insist on silence while we run. Right now is fair game... Although maybe it's best we keep up the awkward silence because I think us talking might be even more awkward," I admit.

"What? No. Us talking would not be awkward," Jonathan protests.

"Be serious. I don't even think we know how to talk to each other, all we do is insult each other." I brush away a few loose strands of my hair that have escaped the death trap my pony tail was supposed to be.

"What this back and forth? This isn't insulting each other, this is us joking. If I'm being honest I'm rather enjoying this," he admits.

"You like being told off and out run by a girl?" I ask even if it's not really true. Jonathan can still run faster and farther than me even if I am trying to change that.

"Well if she's as beautiful as you I'll deal with it." I laugh. It's all I can think to do. I don't have a response. He doesn't mean that. He can't possibly. I have to watch myself, falling for his charm has lead to too many heartbroken girls to count.

"Save it for someone who's going to fall for it," I say with a smile trying to keep the mood light, giving him a slight shove with my shoulder. "And look at that again we fail to have a conversation."

"So what? We we're talking and it wasn't awkward silence, if you ask me we did pretty well."

"Sure," I mumble just to agree, but as I turn away I roll my eyes.

"You want a conversation, fine. Why are you suddenly running? Never before this summer did you go running. Yet this summer you run nearly every single day. What happened? Why the sudden change?" He stares at me and I wish I had sat farther away. Like two miles away. My throat goes dry as his words play again in my head. Why are you suddenly running? What happened? I close my eyes to try to stop my world from spinning. Why the sudden change? I quickly stand up snapping my eyes open. I begin to walk towards the end of the driveway when Jonathan's hand reaches out and holds my arm.

"Emily?"

"I changed my mind. I don't want to have a conversation. Let's go running." Suddenly the desire to run is undeniable. I need to run, right now. I can't wait any longer. My head pounds and I have to blink twice to make my vision focus.

"Come on," I urge him, heading down the driveway. I'm halfway to the street by the time Jonathan catches up. He doesn't say anything and he doesn't run in front of me. Instead he runs beside me matching my pace. I quickly fumble with my music and let it drown out the sounds of the world around me. Except it seems to be far less effective than before. My thoughts keep straying to Jonathan. When I look straight ahead I can see him in my peripheral and I know he's staring at me. His eyes burn holes into the side of my head. I look up at the sky and I nearly trip. I stare down at the sidewalk. I watch my feet move faster and faster at my will as the cement beneath blurs. Yet my feet stay clear. Along with Jonathan's. His feet have matched mine in pace and rhythm. As I run even as I pick up the pace his face do not blur along with the rest of the sidewalk and world. They stay clear, they run with me like they belong beside me unlike the rest of reality.

When we've made it back to my house, I've worked away my agitation. Running is really good at doing that. Sweat beads on my forehead and I am eager to get inside my air conditioned house. I jog up my driveway and pause my music. I turn back around to Jonathan. I know I need to say something to smooth over my over reaction earlier. Except I don't know how to start. I open my mouth to apologize but I know if I apologize it will only bring the whole topic back into question something I desperately want to avoid.

"That was a good run," I say instead.

"Yeah, it was," he agrees following me up the steps so he can grab his regular shoes he brought with him.

"See you tomorrow," I tell him my hand on the door handle.

"Yeah, see you around running buddy," Jonathan says with a slight smirk. I'm about to step into the house when suddenly I whip back around.

"What did you just call me?" Jonathan who is already halfway down the steps at this point turns back around.

His eyebrows are raised at me, "Running buddy?"

"Yes, that. Okay, listen. I guess I need to continue to set this straight. Just because we talk once in a while does not make us buddies-"

"I'm pretty sure it does," Jonathan argues interpreting me.

"We are two very different people, Jonathan. Who happen to have the same running path, that we run at the same time, every day. But we're not buddies. Make no mistake. Nothing about this makes us friends. If anything we're acquaintances. If that."

Then I turn on my heel and go into my house but not before I hear Jonathan shout, slightly laughing, "Whatever helps you sleep at night princess."N6po