Loser II || WlW

Four

     I love this time of the year. The air is crisp, even for southern California. It hasn't begun to heat up yet and the occasional rainfall makes the air breathable. I'm halfway through my walk to the gym when I pull my phone out to check the time. Something catches my eye. The reflection of a woman, walking a little too close and looking far too interested in my phone screen.

She stops walking and looks in the window of a store as I take a headphone out and turn to get a better look at her. She's a little bit older, maybe closer to her late twenties with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. The blonde highlights and acrylic nails don't give me the impression that she's trying to jump me. If anything, she looks more like a computer nerd from my school.

I shake the paranoia off and pick up the pace to the gym. I make the walk in record time but Jackson is already dressed and stretching.

"You're late," he says, pulling on his toes.

"That's the trend for the day." I jog to the changing rooms, and toss my bag on a hook before I unbutton my shirt and slip out of my shoes. I'm changed, sitting on a bench, and wrapping my hand as a shadow flits past the door in the back. I stop, and watch the door. No one should be here but us. I check my phone again. Boss shouldn't be here for another twenty minutes at least.

I finish wrapping my hand as I take slow steps toward the door and push it open, glancing both ways to see if someone is out here.

I'm spinning. My thoughts are all over the place. Does Zachary get out today? Why can't I remember what the date is? My heart is pounding in my ears as I take a step outside and make my way to the back of the building. No one, but was that a branch that just snapped? I sprint after the noise, making a complete circle to the front of the building before I stop. It's silent besides the sound of my breathing.

I'm losing it.

I shake my head and push through the front door again. A good workout should clear my mind.

Jackson flashes me a confused look. "I thought you were changing."

"I thought I heard someone on the side," I admit as I sit next to him and begin stretching.

"Maybe it's that blonde chick from the bar." He pushes to his feet and stretches his calves out.

I rush through my stretches to catch up with him.

"Why'd she throw her drink in your face anyway?" he asks. Jackson is so nonchalant about everything. Sometimes I question if I subconsciously went out and found a version of Zachary that isn't mental and made him my best friend.

"It wasn't meant for me. Brittany called her an orange or something." I shake my head.

Jackson snorts. "So, that was the famous Brittany?"

I nod.

"She's hot," he says approvingly.

"Yeah, well I may have fucked that one up." I sigh, pulling my arm across my chest.

"Already?"

"Shut up." I smile. And as an afterthought, I add, "I took the singer from the band home last night."

His bushy eyebrows pull together. "Why didn't you just take Brittany home?"

"It's complicated, okay?" I snap.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't take that anger out on me."

"No promises," I joke.