“I hate the treadmill. Actually, I despise the fucker.”

Sophie giggles loudly. “I already love you, Blue Williams. I hate that fucker, too.” She takes two large steps and wraps her arms around my shoulders, giving me one more hug. This one lasts a bit longer, and I realize Sophie Watson has burst my bubble and any hopes of having one.

The couple wastes no time getting out the door, and if I were a betting woman, I’d bet Sophie comes back with messy hair. Plucking the damn spa kit from the bed, I toss it in the trash and nail it from feet away. I played basketball all through high school and loved every single second of it. It’s weird to think I’ve never cheered at a boys’ basketball game because of scheduling, but thankfully my school allowed cheerleaders to participate in sports as well.

Looking out my dorm window, I notice the dusk settling in over the campus and decide to hustle my ass. We sure did luck out on the view. It’s a gorgeous view of the cityscape, and with the setting sun, damn near picturesque. I wiggle into some tight spandex running pants and toss on a light hoodie.

Walking back out into the commons, it’s even more crowded and rowdy. It seems all the athletes are excited to meet each other.

A different guard sits behind the desk watching a television show and doesn’t even notice me as I exit the building. The running trail parallels our building and is only fifteen feet from the side of the dorm. There are several different routes you can take, lengthening or shortening your workout with different stations throughout to work your muscles.

I decide on the longest route and begin my five-mile jog. Visualizing the map in my head, I decide about a half mile down the trail that this might not have been the best idea. Darkness envelops the night air with just enough groups of stars and a sliver of the moon lighting the way.

I find my pace, and it feels good to let my longs legs go. Signs point the directions at each crossroad, signaling which loop to take. I’m thankful and find myself melting away into my thoughts with no worries. Pushing myself to the point of breaking has become my drug of choice over the years.

I never count sets in the gym when doing weightlifting; no, I always go to failure. It’s an exhilarating feeling to push my body to its limits when my brain is screaming to quit. I’ve never been one to listen to that tiny voice saying, “Stop.” I set my mind and do it.

Mile three, and my lungs are beginning to sting a bit, but I push it away from my thoughts and dream of meeting my new teammates and coach. I met Coach Lindsey at try-outs, and she was amazing and super inspiring. It was her charisma and aura that drew me to choose Preston.

The breeze sends chills through me when it meets the sweat droplets running down my skin. I reach back and pull my hoodie up and over my Beats and focus on Lil Jon’s song blaring in my eardrums. I’m able to block everything out for the next mile as I pick up my pace, forcing my body to keep up.

A dark figure comes into my peripheral, and I jump to the side. My legs tangle together as I jolt off of the trail. My upper body lands in a grassy area as my legs crash into the pebbled running track, and I feel each stone tear into my flesh.

I grab my head to protect it from anything that might be coming next. The dark shadow hovers over me. I’m too out of breath to look up and still in a daze from whatever the fuck happened. Seconds go by before I realize I just ate shit. When I look up, I see Tuck standing above me, clothed in a black hoodie and loose gym shorts that fall right below his kneecaps, exposing very impressive calf muscles.

“Are you okay?” He squats down to face me. “Blue, are you okay?”

He finds my Beats and takes them off my ears. I’m still too startled to respond, and find my breath continuing to race out of control.

“Blue.” He drags the back of his knuckles down my cheek, which only fucks up my breathing more, and the panic sets in.

“I, uh, I’m fine.” I bring my legs up to my chest and see my torn running pants and the blood pooling around the ragged material.

“I was just passing you. I had no idea it was you,” he offers.

“I’m an idiot and spooked.” I try to bury my face in my knees and avoid the blood and cuts.

“Is this your first time on the trail?”

“Yes.” My voice is muffled.

“Probably not the brightest idea to be out after dark.”

“I know. I just needed to run.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “I might miss home already.”

I have no idea where my words came from, but they’re true. My heart already misses my parents, home, and my bed.

“Freshman, right?”

I nod, suddenly feeling foolish for my psycho breakdown in front of Mr. Hunk-O-Rama.

“Yeah, sorry, I think I’m just tired.” I stand and my rubbery legs wobble underneath me. “Go ahead, I don’t want to mess up your workout.”

He chuckles, and that slight grin dances on his serious face. “I just nearly killed a freshman cheerleader. I’m not about to run along without making sure you make it back to the dorms.”

“Really, I’m fine. I may be a little, tiny,” I gesture with my fingers, “itsy bitsty emotional and exhausted, but besides that, I’m good.”

“When do you report to cheer camp?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

We begin walking down the running trail side by side.

“Your knees may be a bit sore.”

“Slightly,” I respond, as my knees sting like a bitch in heat.

I break into a slow jog and look out the corner of my eye to see Tuck keeping pace with me, and just like in the diner, I find it impossible not to stare. There are so many questions I want to ask him, but know it’s completely inappropriate. Like why he portrays such a dark vibe, his clothing, and if he can makes girls scream in bed.

Instead of exercising my mouth, I keep jogging, quickening my pace. My Beats bounce off the back of my neck as I find my rhythm. Tuck sticks quietly by my side.

“You can go ahead, Tuck. I’m fine, really.”

“What? You don’t think I can keep up with a cheerleader? Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m a pussy.”

I can’t help but laugh at his joke.

“What’s so funny, Miss Blue?”

“My dad always uses that line about not being a pussy.”

I kick in the last gear at my full gait and don’t say another word. Tuck keeps up with me step for step. When we hit the next sign on the jogging trail, I decided to take the eight-mile trek back to the dorms. It feels good to be running at full speed again. With each bend of my knees, I feel the crusted blood break.

Tuck’s heavy breathing makes me feel good because I know he’s pushing himself just as hard as I am. The light of my dorm comes into view, and I internally groan, never wanting this run to end. It was exhilarating before Tuck joined me, but since he did, the open air with his musky scent entangled in all of it made the workout more than satisfying. I could’ve done without the tumble, though.

I come to a stop in front of the dorm and take a second to catch my breath, heaved over, resting my palms on my kneecaps.

“Have a good day tomorrow, Blue Williams.”

I look up to see Tuck jogging in place, facing me.

“Did you Google me? How did you know my last name?”

“I have my ways,” he replies with his stone-cold, serious face.

“I see. Thanks for scaring the shit out of me and nearly killing me before I start my freshman year.”

My sentence rambles on, and I do that on purpose. I’m not ready for Tuck to jog away into the darkness. It’s too late for dinner, and I’m betting he’s not the tea or coffee type…I scramble to come up with an excuse. Tuck begins moving backward in his jogging stance.

“Where are you going?” My voice comes out more panicked than I’d like to admit.

“Home. Goodnight, Blue.”

Tuck continues to jog backward until his black outline fades away into the darkness.