Not Without You

six

Aria

I cringe at the acrid taste of lip balm, sweat, and bug spray on my lips as I sprint up the steep incline, my heart pounding in tune with each thump of my runners against the dirt. Today feels like an insignificant repeat of rigorous activities with the team; training under the same old cloudless blue sky, breathing in the same old alpine air. The only thing that's different about today when compared to others is that the mosquitos have returned full-force and are beginning to drive me insane. Each time I take a small break to grab a sip of water or adjust my wireless headphones, they attack me with a vengeance, their needle-like noses piercing my skin with an uncomfortable pinch, despite the amount of bug spray I used before leaving the house.

"Madden!"

I wipe at my sweaty forehead as I turn around, nearly slamming directly into Scarlett Morton, my line-mate and one of my best friends. "Morton," I reply, passing her my bottle of water. If there's one thing about Scarlett that elusively annoys me, it's her forgetfulness. Take now for example: despite the summer sun and the quickly increasing temperature, putting all of us at a much higher risk of heatstroke, bringing a water bottle managed to slip her mind. Forgetfulness aside, I've never met anyone who can match me in tequila shots as well as she can. To say the least, we've had some excellent evenings out on the town.

Well...those excellent evenings in the town were before we became famous. Now, most of these drunken nights are either around our families, with the team, or spent together on weeknights, drinking bottles of wine, eating snacks, and watching corny Hallmark movies.

"What's with all this energy today?" she asks me in a breathless tone. With a crease between her brows, she leans over, pressing her elbows on her thighs and exhaling deeply. "I'm fucking dying already."

I press my lips into a flat line, suppressing a smile as my gaze drifts to the mountain bikers ahead of us. Yesterday was Leo's first day on the job and even I, someone who has worked for the family business for years, have to say he was quite amazing. Despite the slight antisocial glamour he emits, he's actually very good at communicating with people. There wasn't a customer that walked into the store who didn't receive help from him. He's also quite knowledgeable about mountain bikes, perfectly capable of fixing any mechanical and technical problems with them. He needs to review the trail system a little more, but that's going to take some time. The network of trails is a lot to take on if you're not familiar with the layout of Whistler. All in all, I enjoyed working with him and, for the first time in a while, I'm looking forward to work tomorrow. 

Also, things don't feel as hopeless between Leo and I as they did, well, ever since the moment we met. My concern was that he would hold a grudge against me for my reckless driving, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Aside from us being able to work together, I also managed to learn a bit about him. I already knew he was from New Brunswick, due to the papers he filled out the other day, but I learned a specific location: Campbellton, a small city situated on the south bank of the Restigouche River. Over our brief lunch break, he also told me about a place called Sugarloaf Provincial Park, located in New Brunswick's Appalachian Mountain region, and how it's the perfect place for hiking, mountain biking, and skiing. He even went as far as to tell me a little bit about his mom, Eliza. 

It was strange to hear him talk so much when he seems so...conserved. It's like he's composed of millions of tiny secrets that he doesn't want to share with the world surrounding him.

Like the book he constantly brings to work. It's worn and tattered and always has a piece of paper sticking out from between the pages. He never brings it out into the open, but I always see it in his bag during lunch break when he goes to grab his food. I don't think I've seen him without it, which is why I'm thinking it must hold some importance to him. I wonder if –

I'm wrenched from my thoughts by sudden flecks of water striking my face.

I blink, wiping the water away.

"Hello?" Scarlett asks, waving the water bottle in my face. "Where's that head of yours, Madden?"

"Uh, nowhere," I reply.

She cocks a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. "That's a lie if I've ever heard one myself. What's his name, Aria?"

Profusely, I blush, turning away from her. Instead of focusing on the tall trees surrounding us, I focus on the angry, itchy red welts that have already begun to crop up. And because I have a lack of self-control when it comes to the itching of mosquito bites, I begin to aggressively scratch my bicep, cursing at myself as I do. Thanks to my sensitive skin, I tend to react a little more than others. By the time the day ends, they'll be triple in size and I'll be needing some kind of ointment to curb the itch and the pain. "I don't know what you're talking about, Scar," I reply.

She clamps her hands down on my shoulders, spinning me around. I watch as beads of sweat drip from her fiery-red hairline, slipping down her freckle-spotted nose. "That is such bullshit," she says, poking me in the chest. "You've met someone and you have to tell me who!"

I stare at my friend, contemplating whether or not I should tell her about Leo. It feels wrong too – I've only just met him and he seems guarded; I feel as though telling Scarlett about him may open something up. Something he wouldn't be too happy with. If word got out about Leo and I, God only knows how the media would twist and turn the story in order to make it something the public actually wants to hear. And Leo seems perfectly content with blending in with society, completely avoiding the spotlight.

"Scar," I say softly. "It's nothing. I haven't met anyone. Stop resorting back to all that cliché shit about being in love. The only possible reason I'm on top of my game today is because of how I've been eating, the amount of sleep I've been getting, and because I've been training extensively. We have a big event coming up and I want to be able to do my best. I'm driven because I want to succeed. Not because I'm in love with someone."

Scarlett steps back, her hands in the air. "Okay, okay," she replies. "Keep your secrets."

I roll my eyes, shifting my gaze to the hill before us. It looks intimidating, but in the far distance, I can see the end of this training session. "Come on," I say in a challenging tone. "I'll race you to the top."

Scarlett, who can never back down from a challenge, immediately nods her head. "The last one to the top buys dinner."

And, just like that, any notions about Leo and the paradox predicament I'm in with my feelings toward him fade to the wayside, replaced by the urge to win. "You're on," I reply.