“Bad night?”
“What?” she questions when she looks over at me, and then responds, “I was up late catching up on school work. It’s the end of the quarter.”
I don’t buy her lie. I know this chick wouldn’t be behind in school, but I don’t push it ‘cause if she’s choosing to give me an excuse, then she doesn’t want me to know what really kept her up last night.
Going along with her, I ask, “You ready for the break?”
“Mmm hmm,” she hums, and we’re back to closed-off Candace.
I pick up the pace when we get close to campus, and she strides along with no problem right beside me. I wish she would talk to me, but even if I’m with her in silence, it’s better than not being with her at all.
“I’m sorry,” I hear her say softly, and when I look over at her, I ask, “For what?”
“I’m just tired, that’s all,” she explains.
“Candace,” I say, and when she turns her head and catches my eye, I continue, “You don’t need to be sorry.”
I see the corner of her mouth turn up before she looks away.
“So what did you do yesterday?” she asks, and I’m glad she’s talking now.
“Not much. Hit the gym with Jase and that’s about all.”
“I think he mentioned that to me,” she mumbles.
“What about you?”
“After studio, I had to work. Jase came up there and hung out for a little while,” she tells me. “It was pretty dead, and Roxy left early.”
Because the curiosity is killing me, I go ahead and bring up Jase. “You guys seem really close.”
She looks over at me and narrows her eyes, like she’s questioning what the real meaning is to that statement, but she goes ahead and gives me a response. “We’ve always been close. He’s like my family.”
“It’s good that you have someone like that.”
She doesn’t speak as we continue to make our way through campus, jogging up the stairs as we leave the quad. We take the rest of the run through the surrounding neighborhoods with nothing more than random small talk before I drop her off back at her house and head home.
Something was clearly bothering Candace yesterday when we met up for our morning run, so when I call to see if she wants to grab a bite to eat before I head into work tonight, I’m surprised when she easily agrees.
I meet up with her at the sushi-go-round restaurant close to my loft. She looks a lot better than she did yesterday morning, and I smile as we sit down.
“You ever been here before?” I ask when we start picking our plates off of the carousel.
“A couple times. Mark likes this place.”
“You coming to see him tonight?” I ask, knowing that she’s never come to the bar to hear his band play.
She shakes her head as she plucks her sushi up with her chopsticks and takes a bite. When she’s done, she says, “I’ll see him after.”
“After?”
“I’m staying with Jase tonight. So I’ll see Mark for a little while before he goes home.”
“You spend a lot of nights with him?” I ask, and when she looks up at me, she defends, “It’s not weird or anything.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“We’ve always been this way,” she tells me.
“What way’s that?”
“Close.”
I’m a little confused as to why she spends nights with him, but I don’t push the subject anymore. It’s not my place to question, so I drop it.
Changing the subject, I ask, “Are you free tomorrow?”
“Why?”
Grabbing another plate of sushi before it passes, I tell her, “Didn’t know if you wanted to get in another run.”
She doesn’t say anything as she turns her attention to her food and starts eating. She’s uncomfortable, so I add, “Wanna?”
“I have to work in the morning.”
“After?”
Looking over at me, she nods and says, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Satisfied with her response, we grab a few more plates and finish up our dinner.
“Sorry I’ve gotta run, but I haven’t been working much lately, and I need to get a few things done,” I explain as we head outside, and I walk her to her car.
“It’s okay,” she says as she unlocks her door and then turns to face me.
I want to touch her, hug her, anything, but nothing about her is telling me that it’s okay as she turns back around to open her door, and before I can even try to do anything, she’s in her seat.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, and I wonder if I’m ever gonna get her to let me in.
When I walk into Common Grounds, I don’t see Candace, but quickly notice her boss eying me. She’s obvious and doesn’t even try and hide it. I walk over to the counter where she’s standing with her indigo hair, and for some reason, it totally works on her.
“Candace here?” I ask.
“Mmm hmm,” she playfully hums as she turns away from me and walks into the back.
She pops back out after a couple minutes and says, “She said to give her ten minutes and she’ll be out.”
I nod my head and scan the tats on her arm, asking, “Who does your work?”
“Place next door. My boyfriend works over there.”
“That’s convenient,” I tease.
“My thoughts exactly,” she says with a hint of indecency, and I have to laugh at her vibrant personality. “You got any?”
“Yeah,” I say as I lift the sleeve of my t-shirt to show her the half-sleeve I got a few years back. My mother’s favorite flower is the peony, so I have an almost cryptic interpretation of one surrounded by shaded water with the words, ‘Struggles are not identities,’ woven through the art.
“Nice,” she says as she moves her eyes over it, noting the details. “Any others?”
“No,” I lie. I have another, but I keep it private and don’t ever mention it to people if they ask. “How long did it take you to get all those?” I ask about the full colorful sleeves that run down the length of her arms.
“Here and there for a few years,” she says when I notice Candace out of the corner of my eye.
“Hey.”
“What are you guys talking about?” she asks as she walks over to me.
“Your friend, Ryan, was asking about my tattoos,” Roxy tells her.
Walking towards Candace, who is already in her running gear, I ask, “You ready?”
“Yeah, I just need to put my bag in my car.”
I take the bag out of her hand, and she turns to Roxy to say bye as I start heading out.
Candace is quiet while she listens to me talk about work. She asks a few questions along the way, and I end up venting about some of my aggravation with a couple of the staff that I had to get rid of the other night. But when the conversation shifts to Mark and his band, we start talking about music. When I ask her what some of her favorite bands are, I’m surprised to hear that they sync right up with mine.
We eventually weave into my neighborhood, which is only a couple blocks from her house. We both live right outside Fremont, which Jase’s apartment is in the heart of. Candace stops talking for a while, and when I look down at her, I can see she’s struggling a bit with her breathing.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m thirsty. We forgot water.”
“No worries,” I tell her, knowing that my loft is at the end of the street we’re on. When we get close, I slow down and start walking up my drive.
“What are you doing?” she asks, and when I look back, she’s standing in the middle of my drive—anxious.
“Getting you some water. Come on,” I say, trying to act like her being here shouldn’t be a big deal, but by the way she’s hesitantly walking towards me, I can tell that it is for her.