Silent Runner
Friendships

Ten minutes later I pulled into the Meyers driveway. I stared through the windshield unable to forget how skeptically Riley had viewed it the day I brought her home. I fought back an unexpected chill at the memory.

Shaking my head and chuckling annoyingly; I opened the car door and slid out. It was nice out but the clouds that slowly collected in the sky threatened rain. I looked up at the ominous omen as I waited for someone to answer the door.

“Ethan,” Heather Meyers smiled stiffly, glancing over her shoulder.

“I just wanted to check in on Riley.” I explained shifting my weight awkwardly.

“That’s so sweet of you, but she’s having a bit of a hard time right now.” She sighed, looking exhausted. “It’s been hard on her, having to rely on our help this last week. She got her brace off today, but…”

“I understand that.” I didn’t add how well I understood it. “I just want to talk to her.”

She hesitated before nodding slowly. “You know, talking to a friend might actually help.”

She stepped out of the doorway allowing me to enter into a small entrance hallway. There was a shoe rack and coat hooks to my right and a mirror and table to my left.

“She’s in the exercise room. She has been spending a lot of time in there.” Heather smiled sadly after shutting the door. “She thinks I don’t realize she hasn’t been sleeping.” She shrugged, and I noticed the dark circles under her own eyes. “I hate that she’s hurting.”

I nodded before responding awkwardly. “She’s lucky to have you, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”

She held my gaze for a minute, seeming to read me, before smiling sweetly. “Thank you, dear. She’s up the stairs, down the hall, second door on the right.”

“Thank you.” I nodded before walking towards the stairs, glad to get away from the awkwardness of the conversation.

I heard her before I even got to the room. The repetitive thump that I recognized more than my own mothers voice anymore.

I opened the door to see Riley in yoga capris and a white tank top. Her thick curly black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was thin and muscular. She had black cords coming from her ears telling me she had earbuds in.

I had never seen her without long sleeves and long pants. Even in track she had been allowed to wear long sleeves. It made sense now as anger bubbles in my chest. Her tan arms had old scars as well as some fading bruises. I knew that bruised bones could take months to heal, but I also knew how bad those bruises would hurt.

I forced myself to calm down as I watched her coil and swing. Her wrapped fist hit the bag hard and centered, she knew what she was doing. Taking a deep breath I knew I had to announce my presents.

“Riley?” I called knocking on the door.

She didn’t seem to hear me over her music so I stepped forward and called again. Still nothing. I thought for a second knowing that if I touched her there was a good chance the bag wouldn’t be what got hit. However I wasn’t sure how else to get her attention.

Bracing myself I took another step forward. With a deep breath I prepared to duck and reached out to tap her shoulder.

At least I could continue to say I was good at reading people. The moment my fingers brush against the skin of her arm she spun swinging at my face. I jumped back, dodging easily.

Her brown eyes were wide with shock and fear. She exhaled in a gust, her whole body relaxing. She started to tremble as she fought to catch her breath. She ripped her earbuds out as she seemed to try to glare at me.

“Sorry.” I signed, while I spoke. “I tried calling your name.”

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, steadying herself against the wall to her left. It took her a minute but slowly she reopened her eyes. The chocolate brown orbs glanced at me skeptically.

‘What are you doing here?’ She signed, seeming suddenly uncomfortable as she crossed her arms and shifted her weight.

“I came to check on you.” I shrugged awkwardly.

Suddenly the whole idea seemed unreasonable. Since when was I the one to worry about others? For years it had been people worrying about my every move. Trying to assess my healing and the amount of damage. Trying to fix me. I was always the broken one.

However, looking at the way Riley stepped back hugging herself tightly, I knew she was broken too. For the first time I wasn’t the one who didn’t fit. I wasn’t alone and clung to that idea.

‘I’m okay.’ She signed anxiously.

“You’ve got a pretty good punch.” I commented, smiling politely. “Do you train with anybody?”

She shook her head then signed. ‘I’ve got to get dressed. Stay.’

“Sure.” I agreed, before watching her slowly back into a stall at the end of the room.

I barely had time to look around and take in the gym like set up. There were the typical in-home work out things. Yoga mats an elliptical, a treadmill, and a bike. Then there were the punching bags and Koch boxing equipment that looked almost brand new. I wondered if they were as new to this house as the girl who clearly used them.

Before I knew it Riley stood in front of me in long sleeves, sweats, and socked feet. She had let her hair fall down and the curls cascaded mostly to the right. Her brown eyes seemed less frightened but still wary as she looked me over.

‘Why are you here?’

“I was worried about you.” I grinned, cocking an eyebrow. “Friends do that, you know. Especially if you get hurt.”

‘I’m fine, and we aren’t friends.’

I bit back irritation forcing my expression to remain playful as I questioned. “Oh, so you follow random strangers into the woods on foot often?”

She blushed, but otherwise gave no response.

“We are friends, Riley.” I smiled kindly at her. “Get used to it.”

She sighed deeply, her dark brown eyes rolling so thoroughly her head moved. I laughed at her response and soon she was biting back a wide grin.

‘You are so annoying.’ She signed slowly.

“Yeah,” I admitted, “I have heard that before.”

She eyed me, suddenly suspicious. Once again, I felt like she was looking straight through me. Seeing everything I heard from everybody else.

Slowly her eyes drift to where I suddenly realized I was massaging the old bullet wound. Her expression cautious, she suddenly signed shakily. ‘Who did that?’

I hesitated, I didn’t want to think about it. Especially not mow with my mom’s sudden reappearance. However I figured if I wanted honesty I had to give some in return.

“One of my mother’s boyfriends.” I admitted, dropping my hand with a shug.

I couldn’t meet her gaze, instead looking over her head. In my peripheral vision I saw shock then rage fill her expression. I did not want to talk about this, she already knew more than most.

“So, what do you do around here for fun?” I quickly changed the subject.

She looked suddenly nervous as if not sure how to respond. ‘I guess we could watch a movie.’ Even in sign language she seemed to trail off.

“OK, what do you want to watch?” I smiled politely, trying to ease the tension.

She shrugged but led the way down the hall. I followed her unsure of what to expect or where we would go from here. I just hoped she would finally open up to me and accept my friendship.

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