Treadmill

VI.I

Have you ever made a rash decision? Maybe you wanted to go to a concert but didn't have the money...and went anyway? Or you decided to make a fitness Instagram that would only get 20 followers in just as many days, and then you deleted it out of embarrassment?

That second one, good job. You should have deleted it. That's embarrassing.

I don't make rash decisions. I never have. I thought for weeks before I started writing this. Weeks. Before I decided to start typing something that no one would even read. It took me three months to decide on Clemson after my gap year. It took me six weeks to build up the nerve to ask a rather mediocre-looking guy to the Sadie Hawkins dance during my sophomore year of high school.

If this tells you anything, it should say that I don't make immediate decisions. I make carefully planned, carefully curated, meticulously thought-through decisions, to the point that it's annoying to anyone I talk to about them.

That's why everything in my life that had anything to do with Kennedy Abrams was so bizarre. They were all rash decisions. Skipping class here, calling out of work 'sick' there...everything was done on the spur of the moment. Everything was a rash decision. And it was such a rush. It was exhilarating.

And it was 110% not me.

But rash decisions became the hallmark of our friendship. And they became something that would change the course of my entire life.

Because that one morning, when Kennedy texted me saying that I wanted this mysterious 'change' in my life?

She was right.

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10:12 PM. Rebecca clocked out of Publix and waved goodbye to the girl who was going to take the night shift. Rebecca couldn't imagine working the night shift. It seemed like such a terrible thing to do to yourself.

So, it was a good thing that Georgia did it, and Rebecca didn't have to.

She got in her car and started for Kennedy's apartment, feeling like this was a routine now. Going to Kennedy's without knowing why she was really going. Just knowing that she was finally a part of something, finally a part of the life of someone who was just about as fascinating as a person could be.

Rebecca knocked on the apartment door at 10:21 PM and waiting approximately twenty seconds before hearing someone shout "Come in!" from the other side of the door. She opened the door slowly and walked into the apartment, finding three people in the living room and one in the kitchen. Kennedy sat on the couch, typing furiously on her laptop with a look of utmost concentration, which could have simply been because she was trying to ignore the fact that Lyla and Doug were making out on the armchair just a few feet from her. Rebecca walked in and sat on the couch beside Kennedy, nodding her hello to Rian, who was cooking something on the stovetop that smelled absolutely atrocious. The only thing Rebecca could think to compare it to was a combination of old fish and burnt spinach.

Kennedy didn't acknowledge Rebecca's presence for a second and kept typing, her eyes trained on the screen as her acrylics tapped along the keyboard angrily. She kept going for another minute as Rebecca sat in silence, trying to ignore the smell of Rian's cooking and the sound of Lyla and Doug's tongues in each other's throats.

Kennedy stopped typing and turned to face Rebecca, a manic light in her eyes that caused Rebecca to be simultaneously excited and terrified.

"I was thinking about our conversation this morning," She began quietly, ensuring that neither of her roommates were listening, "About how influencers are so fascinating and how we could probably make a fake version pretty easily. I kept thinking about it, and started thinking about the logistics of it, and everything came together. I mean everything. We could make our own fake Instagram influencer."