Jeremiah walks up behind me. “Is everything okay here?”
I feel a sudden urge to rush into the bathroom, but I stand up straight. “Seth, this is Jeremiah. Jere, this is Seth. He was best friends…” I can’t get the words out.
“Annie’s boyfriend was my best friend,” Seth says softly.
Sadness flickers in Jeremiah’s eyes as they shake hands. Seth sizes Jeremiah up. What’s he thinking? That Jere is nothing like Kyle? Sure, Kyle was a runner too, but he combed his hair and knew what a belt is. The thought makes me smile to myself.
“I better get going,” Seth says, looking from Jeremiah to me. “See you, Annie.”
As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jeremiah stares me down. “You all right?”
“Fine.” My throat feels scratchy.
He glances over at Seth putting on his bowling shoes and lifts a hand as if he’s going to squeeze my shoulder, but suddenly adjusts his knitted hat instead.
“Tell you what,” he says. “Let me finish beating you at bowling, and then I’ll treat you to a Blizzard at Dairy Queen.”
I scowl at him. Then agree to the Blizzard. I do like the kind with Snickers in it.
•••
Jeremiah decides to order a chicken sandwich and a large fry in addition to a Reese’s Blizzard.
“I thought you said you already ate,” I say.
“I had supper, but this is my late-night snack.”
I roll my eyes at his ripped, six-foot-tall frame. “How do you maintain your girlish figure?”
He grins. “You know how it is with running. It’s like I can’t eat enough. I’m always hungry.”
“I know what you mean.”
“My brother says that with my training schedule and working as a pacer, I should eat at least 6,000 calories a day.”
That’s amazing and disgusting at the same time. “Since I started running, I’ve been eating two jars of peanut butter a week.”
He leans in toward me. “I bet I could eat four jars.”
I take a step back. “You don’t have to beat me at everything, you know.”
At my skittishness, he adjusts his knit cap and focuses on the Dairy Queen worker scooping fries into a paper sleeve.
We get our order and sit at a table outside, watching cars drive by on the four-lane. The summer air warms me like a hug. I scoop Snickers Blizzard into my mouth and lick the spoon dry.
“My brother said you just graduated high school?” Jeremiah asks, biting into his chicken sandwich.
“This isn’t fair. You have an inside way to find out stuff about me. I don’t know a lick about you.”
Chewing, he looks up. “What do you want to know?”
“What else do you do besides race?”
“I go to school at MTSU. I play intramural soccer for my fraternity. I like watching TV and reading the newspaper.” He lifts a shoulder, his face turning a bit pink. “That’s about it, I guess.”
“I’m starting MTSU this fall.”
His expression changes when he hears I’ll be going to his school. He finishes chewing a bite, then licks mustard off his thumb. “Do you have any interest in playing intramural soccer? I’ll get you on another team, so I can beat you at that too.” He laughs and stuffs fries in his mouth.
I give him a serious look that shuts him right up.
“What do you study?” I ask.
“Education. I might be a P.E. teacher. My goal in life is never to have a desk job.”
I spoon ice cream onto my tongue. “I don’t want a desk job, either.”
“What do you wanna do?”
“Not sure yet.” I liked helping Jeremiah when he hurt his foot, and I like feeling healthy and being on a schedule. It could be cool to help somebody else the way Matt has helped me. “I’ve sort of been thinking about physical therapy or nursing.”
“I dunno,” Jeremiah says. “I don’t think you’re cut out to be a nurse.”
I gape at him.
“I mean, you couldn’t even diagnose that you had an unborn twin stuck to your foot.”
I throw a french fry at his chest, but it veers off course onto the sidewalk.
He smirks at the fry on the ground. “Clearly I could beat you at darts too…So why’d you pick MTSU?”
“I had to choose a state school. So I could get financial aid, you know?”
He pops a fry in his mouth. “Same here.”
“My mom pushed me my whole life to go to college…she made sure I did my homework and studied for tests.”