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“Not all night. Just for as long as I feel like it.”

“Alright well, I can’t be out too late.”

Rowan licks his lips, a slight smirk still playing on them. “Why? Got a date with your girl?”

This dude must love getting punched.“You’re messed up, man.”

Still smirking, he gets on his mark and checks his watch. I get set, too, ready to prove I’m not some wuss afraid of a few suicides.

“On my go,” Rowan says. “Don’t lose me when we’ve only just begun.”

I lose myself a little in the way he stares so intensely in front of us, like his enemy is standing at the opposite goal line, and Rowan is out for blood. I stare at the thick ridge down the side of his neck long enough that when Rowan says “go,” I stumble on the jump.

Off to a miserable start, just like that.

The first sprint is cake. I get back to the goal line perfectly in sync with Rowan, and the time he gave us feels like more than enough to catch my breath. Long enough that I have to force myself not to spend the extra time staring at Rowan.

He doesn’t look at me once, and he never says, “go,” again. He just goes, and I follow. Like his shadow, I’m right there with him, and I’m determined not to let him see me struggle. I even try chatting him up a bit between sprints, like that’ll show how little I’m struggling.

“I broke up with her, you know,” I tell him a dozen minutes in.

He doesn’t say one word back. Doesn’t acknowledge me at all. He goes, and I go, and when we get back, I say, “It’s not the first time she’s done something like that. I guess I’m sorta pathetic for sticking around so long.”

Nothing.

He goes, and I go.

“Just letting you know the sorta girlfriend she is,” I tell him. “In case you’re trying to start something with her.”

Nothing. Brick fucking wall.

He goes, and I go.

My lungs burn, but I keep my heaving to a minimum. “You’re right about her head game being trash, though. Her pussy’s nice.”

Finally, I get a reaction out of Rowan, but it’s only a single sidelong glance that makes me feel like a real jackass.Her pussy’s nice?What the fuck does that even mean? I mean, it’s not bad. Not gross or anything, and it felt good around my dick those times I was high or desperate. It’s not Lese’s fault I couldn’t appreciate her enough.

He goes, and I go, but now I’m really pushing to get back at the same time he does.

“She’s a good girl. I mean, if you’re actually interested. She’s a good person despite the cheating.”

He goes, and I go, and my chest aches with how hard my heart beats.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have ended things. It’s hard to find a good person. Someone who puts up with you and your family.”

He goes, and I go, and I’m two steps behind him to the goal line, breathing hard.

“Besides…monogamy is…old-fashioned anyway. Maybe I’m a…pussy for giving a shit.”

He goes, and I go, and my lungs are on fire. I have to put my hands on my knees to keep from collapsing. My head is spinning, and whatever I want to say doesn’t make it up my throat before Rowan goes again. He’s a good six feet ahead of me the whole way, and my side is cramping. He’s already on his mark when I’m still running, and he’s glaring at me.

He goes, and I turn right back around.

Before I make it back, Rowan is already on his next sprint.

I stop, because the pain is too much. My knees drop, and I heave stinging breaths down at the grass.

“If you’d been on time, you could’ve stretched with me.” Rowan’s voice barely cuts through my rapid fire heartbeat, butthe fact he’s not ignoring me anymore makes a tiny bit of the humiliation subside.