Ralph walked in front of Zoe as she tried to leave. “Right after you pay the check.”
She looked aghast at him. “After you publicly humiliated me? I would think you should be so inclined as to give me a free pizza for my embarrassment.”
“I didn’t make your voice that bad.” His tone was sarcastic, and he kept giving her a coy grin that made crinkles around his eyes. “I could let you go if you promise to go out with me Friday night.” He cocked his head to the opposite side.
“Hmm.” Zoe tapped her index finger to her lips and contemplated. “I’ll pay you half… and I’ll think about the date.”
Ralph put his hand up to refuse the money Zoe held before him. “No money. Just think about it.” He started to walk past her. “Think hard.” He spoke close to her ear, and I saw her legs quake just a bit.
As soon as we were outside I grabbed her arm. “What are you doing? What about Darren?” Seeing Zoe flirt like that, so effortlessly, made me wish I had even half of her confidence.
“What about Darren? Oh come on, Rissa I’m not going to go out with Ralph. I was just playing the game. The same way he was. I flirt, he flirts. It’s all harmless.” She looked deep into my eyes. “You want me to teach you how to play the flirting game, don’t you?”
My cheeks went hot. “What? Me… no. I don’t want to learn how to flirt.” I broke her gaze and kicked some pebbles on the ground.
She grabbed my arms. “You totally want me to teach you how to flirt! I’m adding it to my to-do list.” With a flourish, she made an imaginary check mark in the air. We linked arm and arm and walked to our cars.
****
The morning sun that screamed in through my skylight irritated me. I recalled that Marc was supposed to install one of those custom-made shades, but that was right before he decided he could no longer “deal with this family.” I grabbed my cell phone off my nightstand and checked the time and saw 5:00 a.m. staring back at me. It was only thirty minutes before I needed to get up anyway to get a run in before school, so I decided to just get up and start now.
I took off my pink sleep-shorts set and changed into my purple short-sleeve jogging shirt (antimicrobial and UV protecting) and black running capris. In the mess of clothes on my floor, I couldn’t find a pair of matching ankle socks, so I had to go with one pink striped and one green striped. Maybe I’d start a new trend. Doubt it.
The early morning air was already quite warm. It was supposed to be hot for April — up in the eighties. You could never tell what you’re going to get when you lived in New England. I maintained a conservative pace throughout the first mile. Like always, I stopped at the end of Fletcher Street and took a big inhalation, and then I started running more quickly past Sacred Path Cemetery. Brandon. At the halfway point, I glanced inside the cemetery to where Brandon and his family had been standing, and my stomach flipped over like a pancake. With concentration, I ran faster and finally let out my breath as I banked a right and tried to stay focused. I would not smell the lilacs today. Instead, I decided to take a detour and go down Hope Street. It was such a nice sounding street, but the dog that gave me nightmares lived down there. A stupid little poodle named Roxie. There’s an old horror movie Marc used to like to watch, Cujo, about a crazed dog. Now that dog Cujo was huge, but I like to think of Roxie as Cujo in disguise.
My feet pounded against the pavement. While trying to focus, I took a misstep and almost rolled my ankle. I could hear my track coach’s — correction, my former track coach’s — voice in my head. “Watch your footing, Marissa!” Coach Moore used to say that to me all time.
Truth be told, I wasn’t that good at track, but my mom had convinced me to join. She had loved running track when she was in high school and, in a lot of ways, I wanted to be just like her. So, I decided to give it a try. My strongest attribute was that I was consistent. I had a consistent pace, a consistent pattern, I consistently came to practice, and consistently ran on my own at home. More than anything else, I liked the stability of it. After my mom died, I didn’t want to do anything or be part of anything anymore. Coach Moore was super sympathetic, and so were the girls on the team. My grief was too intense, and I just couldn’t get all hyped up over stupid competitions and being a happy team player when I was dying inside. Losing that part of my life did make me miss the stability of it though. Only a few weeks after my mom died, I started running again, on my own. It felt good to be out, free, in the open air. No one bothered me or asked me how I was feeling. I could run as fast or as slow or as long as I wanted. Running became a constant for me. Part of me always wanted to keep running, to run away, forever.
The air smelled good and clean, and I was proud of myself for being out there even if I was going to venture down Cujo’s… I mean, Roxie’s street. My best bet would have been to keep a quick pace past her house. Maybe she wouldn’t be near the front door (like she always was) or maybe she’d be busy eating her breakfast. I focused on my pace and looked straight ahead. Nothing could divert my attention.
Then the smell
