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    Chapter Nine
     
     
    I text Caroline while I’m walking across campus to the tutoring center, asking if I can borrow her running shoes. We wear the same size, and she bought a brand new pair after Justin broke up with her last fall. Her plan was to run away from her problems by taking up jogging. It lasted two sessions.
    She quickly responds: Yes, why?
    I thought I might try running.
    No response. She’s probably trying to figure out why I’ve suddenly decided to do something physical. She knows about Daniel and our coffee dates. Maybe she thinks I want to get in shape for him.
    The next few hours fly by, but my stomach has begun to tighten like a noose. Why have did I agreed to this? Sure, I’ve hung out with Tucker at Panera, but that was for studying.
    If the Tucker I knew before our tutoring sessions had suggested we run together, I would have been sure it was a practical joke. But oddly enough, I know this Tucker. We’ve only been together a handful of times, yet I know he wouldn’t hurt me. He said he shows a different side of himself to me because he trusts me. I guess I trust him, too. The revelation is shocking. Other than Caroline, I can’t remember the last time I’ve trusted anyone.
    When my session is over, I hurry home. Caroline has left a note that her shoes are in my room. I make a peanut butter sandwich and eat it while I search my dresser drawers for workout clothes. I tried yoga a year ago as a form of relaxation and while it worked, I had trouble finding time when I was alone in the apartment to do it. I was too self-conscious to do it around Caroline.
    So what makes me think I can run with Tucker? In front of people? My hands are shaking as I tie Caroline’s shoes, and I sit on the side of the bed, sucking in air.
    I can’t do this, which is stupid and makes me more upset, which increases my anxiety. I consider canceling, but I realize I don’t have Tucker’s phone number, and the responsible part of me would never leave him there wondering where I am. I lie down on the bed and try to relax, using guided imagery to settle down. When I try to envision running on the track with Tucker, my mind can’t go there. For one thing, I’m too anal to imagine a place I’ve never been. And for another, I simply can’t picture Tucker working out with me.
    I finally get myself under control and drive to campus. The grounds are dark when I pull into the parking lot, but I’ve never felt unsafe here, one of several reasons I picked Southern. Still, I’m careful as I walk toward the brightly lit fitness center. I’ve been in college for two and a half years and never entered that building, but I know it’s divided into two sections. One for the student athletes, and the other for the general student population.  It never occurred to me to ask Tucker which side. One more thing to worry about.
    It’s a needless concern. Tucker is standing in the lobby, waiting, with a duffel bag over his shoulder. He smiles when he sees me. “I was worried you’d chicken out.”
    “I almost did.” Why am I always compelled to tell him the truth?
    “I’m glad you didn’t.” The weird thing is he really looks happy.
    He opens the door to the general student body side and waits for me to enter. I’m relieved. I’ll make enough of a fool of myself without doing it in front of trained athletes.
    Tucker sets his bag down on the side of the indoor running track. Leaning over, he pulls out two water bottles and hands me one. “It’s important to stay hydrated.”
    I nod and take a drink.
    “I’m not sure how much physical exercise you’ve gotten lately, so I decided to start as though you’re a beginner.”
    My eyebrows lift. “Is it that obvious?”
    He cocks his head to the side with an ornery look. “Is that a trick question where there is no right answer?”
    I laugh. “Probably.”
    “Then I plead the fifth.”
    “Smart man.”
    “Interesting choice of words.” He teases.