Page 28 of Synodic

People often told me I was too picky and that my standards were too high. Were they right?

Was this feeling I sensed stretched out over space and time not real, this telescopic inkling that somehow I was meant for more? Or was it just a mirage I could see glinting on the horizon, and no matter how long or hard I ran toward it, it would always remain an unattainable bit of light in the distance?

What if all along, what I ached for was right under my nose? An oasis overlooked by a leaky pipe dream.

If that was what my subconscious was trying to say, could I have been overlooking Harlan all this time?

If he managed to make up for his debacle at Prism, this could turn into something more. Wasn’t that what I’d been searching for all this time? Something real.

Considering this new perspective, I would try with Harlan tonight. Attempt to give in to him and see how it felt. Howhefelt—to search for any sign of life somewhere between us.

It could be amazing if I let it.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said as he handed me a drink. “Don’t worry. It’s alcohol-free.”

“I’ve had a lot of work,” I said between sips. It wasn’t technically a lie. Besides, I was used to living my life on the precarious line of omissions and half-truths. It was how I got by.

“You’ve changed up your look. I like it.”

My brows pulled together. I hadn’t changed anything since the last time I saw him.

Seeing the confused look on my face, he clarified. “The colored contacts. Your eyes are glowing like bits of stars. I couldn’t see it before at the club but…” he slowly trailed off, remembering the sensitive topic.

“Oh.” I hadn’t noticed. “It’s probably just your lighting,” I replied. Lord knew he had the fanciest uplighting rigged in this place.

“I had some food ordered,” he said, shrugging off the comment. “You good with the udon noodles?”

My interest piqued at the mention of food. “Veggie?"

“Sorry, no. I forgot,” he winced. “But it should be here soon.”

Despite being disappointed he hadn’t remembered my eating preferences, I let him lead me to his grey mid-century couch. We hadn’t had time to catch up the night at Prism, so he filled me in on his friends, family, and current tech job.

I did the same for him, minus the vivid dreams featuring a very large, hatchet-wielding man. I especially didn’t tell him about the gaps in my memory or ending up in places having no recollection of how I got there. He would no doubt tell Natalie, and they would find some intrusive way to confront me.

Our food arrived with an abrupt knock, and Harlan strode to the door, returning with a bag of inviting scents. We stayed on the couch and ate straight from the takeout containers.

“What are you thinking about?” he probed after a while, eyeing me in earnest.

I elected to ask him something I’d never thought about until now. “What’s the full story on how you got my number? I mean, I know you got it from one of my teammates, but I don’t know any of the details.”

“Ah, I was wondering when you would ask me that,” he chuckled without shame. “I got roped into going to one of your track meets. I didn’t want to be there, but I was at the mercy of a buddy who said he only needed to make a quick appearance for his sister. It felt like we’d been there forever, and I was extremely bored—no offense—but then I saw you walking onto the field, and I’ll be honest, you caught my eye right away. Suddenly, I became very interested in track.” His brown eyes glinted mischievously.

“You were wearing those little bikini shorts and that sports bra,” he said like he was conjuring the very image in his head, and I rolled my eyes. I wore what I wore to create the least amount of drag possible, not to be ogled at. “I watched you until it was your time to race. I was curious to see if you were any good.”

Good?Of course I was good. I was racing at a collegiate level, but I let the comment slide.

“You were so in the zone before the race started, but as soon as the gun went off, your face changed. It didn’t look like you were merely racing like everyone else, it…it looked like you were running from something, something that was going to devour you whole.”

I almost flinched. Harlan was more perceptive than I thought. Then again, he didn’t get to where he was in life by not being able to read people.

In all the moments leading up to a race and even the seconds in the block, I was always eerily docile and unfeeling. It wasn’t until the starter pistol went off that the fear really set in, and I remembered that every time I ran, I escaped.

I fled like a wild, desperate beast from a hungry cage that chomped at my heels. If I wasn’t fast enough, it would catch and utterly consume me, trapping me in its empty, colorless belly.

I hadn’t raced in months since graduating, but I could never forget that feeling. Lately, the cage was less hungry, less relentless. It only hovered threateningly above me like a Venus flytrap silently biding its time.

“Anyway,” Harlan said, bringing me back to his modern apartment. “That’s when I knew I needed to talk to you. After I first saw you run. I asked my buddy if he could get your number from his sister. I knew it was a long shot,” he said, nudging my knee.

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