Roll the Dice

twenty-four. to shoot crap

[Dedicated to Anne, who is my name twin. She's inspired me so much, not only with her writing, but also with the #ColourMeIn movement she started, and I'd like to wish her well on all of her endeavors, from writing to beyond!]

Only recently, I'd realized exactly how much I liked to go on morning runs with Dom. It was nice to have a running partner who wasn't as pushy as Cara, and besides, he treated me to breakfast almost every other time. (He always refused to let me go Dutch--with which I really had no issue since I did provide all the funds we needed to fully experience the culture of 1950s New York City.)

However, it was completely true that as a guy, Dom tended to go at a faster pace than I did. That kind of sucked. But I told myself that I made up for it when we hit the four-mile mark--the look on Dom's face when he realized that his legs were giving out while mine were not was priceless.

But now, as we ran through the now-familiar pathway in the park we'd been frequenting since the beginning of the summer, there was something else in the air, something I didn't know how to understand. Of course, it was mostly silent, save for the leaves rustling in the wind and the occasional bird chirping and our steady footsteps. There was a look on Dom's face, though. After all of this time, I'd figured out that he had a specific expression for each form of exercise--with running, he always stared straight ahead, face completely straight.

Today, he seemed lost in thought.

A couple minutes back, we'd hit the four-mile mark, according to my GPS. There was nothing strange about that. I was completely aware of my capabilities as a runner, and with that, I knew that my legs would start to ache like crazy once I pushed myself for another half-mile. But then, I'd just keep pushing myself until I couldn't feel my legs anymore.

What was strange was that Dom didn't make a single remark or wheeze out a complaint. If I had to be completely honest, his complaints were the sole things to which I looked forward on our runs. What could make me feel better about my aching legs than a dose of Dom? So on today's mostly silent run (he'd grunted out a "good morning" before we started), I felt a little morose, and it was as if my legs were in particularly bad shape this morning.

That absolutely sucked.

We hit the meadow, where the sunlight was no longer impeded by leaves and branches, and immediately, I felt the effect of the sun's warmth. I glanced over to Dom--maybe he'd make some smartass comment about how he hated the sun "sucking the energy out of his body". But there was radio silence today.

My mind raced to all sorts of things now. Maybe his mom died or something that drastic. Did he have a dog? He'd mentioned a German shepherd at home. Did that dog die? Or maybe he had come to his right mind...and finally realized that he did, indeed, feel some sort of affection for Guys and Dolls. I wouldn't be surprised at all if he felt like he needed to rue over his "good sense" for a bit.

But why now? Taciturn Dom was never fun, but rather worrying.

I frowned, feeling my calf muscles tighten just a little more. I stumbled a little. My legs were fucked up like that--I really should have stretched a little more when I had the chance before the run. That didn't surprise me at all because I always had leg issues like that, especially before I started cross country in middle school. However, what surprised me was how Dom immediately grabbed my upper arm, slowing down his pace to support my back like he was going to catch me if I fell.

We stopped right there and just stood, watching each other carefully. Up close, Dom's dark eyes--brown, I'd realized after being so close to him--seemed even more stormy, but not from anger. It was something like confusion, conflict. He frowned, taking his hand off the small of my back to run his hands through his already ruffled hair, which he probably hadn't brushed this morning.