Chapter 3
Lizzy
My breath fogs the air ahead of me. Each exhale leaves its mark, followed by a sharp, frozen inhale.
Despite the years of being a northerner, the freezing temperatures still affect me. Which is why I’m currently running in sweatpants with leggings underneath and multiple layers on top, including mittens and a scarf.
But the cold is no excuse to break my schedule. Marathon training is rigorous, but that won’t discourage me.
Running was something I picked up after the move here. At first, it was to clear my mind, but now, I feel free when I run. There’s a trail at the park across from my house that I’ve trained on for several half marathons.
I never considered running a full marathon until a few months ago when several ads and training videos popped up on my phone. I took them as a sign. Granted, this was after I did some light research on marathons, so it made sense. The more they popped up, the more eager I became.
But those weren’t the only signs. Information on equipment I need, hydration and electrolyte schedules, stretches, and strength training all continue to be shown to me. It’s like the universe, or my guardian angel, has been guiding me through the process.
There are a few more months until the race I signed up for. I’m looking forward to the race, though some days, like today, I wish I had a partner.
It’s cold, and with only my audiobook to keep me company, it’s lonely. The trails aren’t busy today. If I had someone to talk to during my runs, they’d be easier. They wouldn’t even have to be a romantic partner; I’d settle for a friend.
Two girls in matching outfits pass by me, and I battle the jealousy trying to emerge.
Part of me wishes I had the confidence to talk to them, see if I could join them, but I can’t seem to open my mouth to get the words out.
I settle for a small smile and light wave.
They return the gesture, then, as they trail past me, their eyes widen and they begin to giggle.
Curious at what elicits such a reaction, I glance over my shoulder and blush.
I shouldn’t be surprised to see my quasi-running buddy trailing behind.
I can’t fault them for their reaction when, despite his layers, his long-sleeve compression shirt shows off his lean form.
Every defined muscle on display. His sweat making the white shirt almost see-through. It’s downright salacious.
However, that’s not what warms my chest. It’s simply that it’s him. I think of him as my running buddy. We must have matching schedules, or he’s just out here often, because he’s always trailing behind me on my runs. It makes me feel a little less alone.
Neither of us have ever made an effort to introduce ourselves. Maybe he doesn’t notice me, but I sure notice my glasses-wearing neighbor. I just don’t want to face his rejection and then lose the only company I have out here.
His house backs up to mine. The only reason I know this is that I’ve seen him taking his trash out on occasion while driving home. And let me tell you, he’s just as sexy when clothed and clean.
I feel a connection between us. Maybe it’s that we always run together. Or maybe it’s his nerdy, approachable demeanor. I feel called to him. And a slight sense of camaraderie.
The slight smirk on my face when he doesn’t acknowledge the women makes me ashamed.
I shouldn’t revel in his indifference. But when he catches my gaze, he awkwardly raises a hand in a half-wave with a sheepish smile, then quickly drops his eyes.
A sense of ownership overwhelms me, but I squash it down.
He’s just being friendly… to me… not to them.
Maybe he does notice his neighbor running buddy.
One day, I promise myself, I’ll make an effort. I’ll slow down on a run until I’m by his side and introduce myself. I’ll propose that we run together since we run the same routes at the same pace.
But for right now, that wave and smile are enough.
As I finish my run, there’s a slight pain in my left hamstring. Not enough to derail my training, but it still causes me to flinch and grip it. I try massaging it, but my fingers aren’t able to dig as deeply as I need. Despite the pain, I stretch out then cross the street to my front door.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my running buddy’s gaze following me the whole way.
After years of running together, I’m not worried about him breaking in and attacking me.
Plus, despite popular belief, sometimes it’s the men closest to us that we need to be wary of.
The ones with a claim over you. Because when that claim is questioned, they’ll attack first.
My neighbor doesn’t seem the type. He always keeps his distance, and other than a wave or smile, he never initiates contact. I’m sure he isn’t interested in me. Plus, he only ever sees me flushed and so sweaty that my clothes are soaked through.
…
After a warm shower to defrost, I settle on my couch. The first thing that pops up when I open my app to check the status of my delivery of Trevor’s toad food is a deal on a foam roller. I click it, because who isn’t tempted by seventy percent off?
The description states that it can dig deep and shows many tutorials on how to use it.
There are even videos on hamstring exercises.
After a little internal debate, I add it to my cart.
I also get a notification that my electrolyte gummies are almost out.
It’s crazy how these apps keep track of that stuff.
I buy the whole cart, then head to my pets.
Fern, my five-lined skink, smiles at me while I drop a few crickets in his cage.
While it’s wrong to have favorites, he’s secretly mine.
He may not be as exotic as some of my others, but the memory of how we came to be means more to me.
The majestic lizard is a rare find in Boston, especially with his bright blue tail.
When I’d only been in Boston for about three months, I found Fern on the side of a building. His beautiful tail caught my eye. Even though he was found outside, it was no place for him to thrive. I worried about his survival. So, I scooped him up and brought him home with me.
He’s been with me six years. There was an odd time about a year ago when I’d swear his stripes changed.
Which isn’t possible. But his pattern looked so different.
He had been sick the few days leading up to this, but that shouldn’t change his pattern.
I ended up disregarding the notion because unless someone snuck into my house to replace my sick lizard with one of the exact same size, then he’s the same lizard.
Which is crazy. No one breaks into houses to replace lizards.
After feeding the rest of my sweet pets, I settle at my table. Instead of using it to eat, I have a two-thousand-piece puzzle set up. I enjoy winding down by focusing on something like a puzzle or trivia. It’s the best way to calm the mind.
On my way to bed, I glance out my bedroom window. As usual, all the upstairs blinds of my neighbor’s house are closed. I can’t stop myself from occasionally glancing out, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But it’s to no avail.
Maybe one day, I’ll march over, knock on his door, and… I’m not sure what I’d do. But maybe one day.