ones I’ve eaten since I was in nappies, but also worlds better. Did you get to eat any of your baking today?”
“Only a chef’s taste.”
Orion rips off half the remaining bun and holds it out. “Tell me why it’s better.”
Between bites of sticky goodness I say, “A smidge less sugar in the dough. A pinch of cardamom along with the cinnamon, and lemon peel infused into the glaze.” Just like Abuela would have done.
He licks his fingers. “I’ll never doubt you again.”
I lick my fingers. “You’d better not if you want to work out with me. Also, I’m a really good runner.”
“I’ll manage. But I should’ve asked first. Either you’re going to tell me running is something you do alone to think, which is fine. Or you’re going to let me show you some new routes. Most locals tell visitors to run the loop into town across the college foot path, by the river.”
“That’s the only route I’ve taken,” I say. “The only one I know.” I hadn’t even considered changing something that works just fine.
“Well, then.” His face ticks into something between a smirk and a smile. “I can show you what you’ve been missing.”
11
Orion runs beside me, possibly disguising some seriously out-of-shape lung burn with staggered breaths and silence. I don’t tell him I’m not pushing my usual pace. I’m really not that bitchy. Usually. But the view is worth our slowness.
He pants, dolling out, “What is that. Glowing, circular orb. Just making an appearance?”
I laugh, but no need to look skyward. We stride from pavement to hidden path. I don’t even try to hide my gasp as Orion leads me into a living kaleidoscope. Trees sag low with the weight of star-shaped leaves, while spindly armed bushes reach up and over, ends touching. Sunlight filters through, shifting lacy patterns over hard-packed dirt. It stripes Orion like a tabby cat.
“Scene’s worth the unexpected company?” he asks.
“So much. Amazing.” But the path tugs at more than my muscles because this is just the kind of place I’d choose to come alone and cry. To miss people. I would sit like I do in the wooded Oleta River State Park off Biscayne Bay. Waiting for the bright to blacken, matching the shadowed pieces inside me.
But I’m not sitting now. I’m running with purpose, slower than usual, but still pushing all of myself through. Forward—I’d forgotten what that feels like. Will it last? No se. But this airy tunnel doesn’t trap me like a British Airways cabin or the one-way ticket that brought me here.
We keep our pace until the trail opens, closer to the city center than I thought. The four-cornered spire marking Winchester Cathedral pokes up in the distance. Commerce and cars reveal another type of life.
Orion nudges me. “I’ve brought you through sort of a half circle, probably three miles worth.”
“Are you saying we should stop?” But that’s actually a worthy start for someone who hasn’t run in a while.
“Maybe walk a bit? It’s not far to Maxwell’s and I need to fill a quick order and run it just a couple streets down. And you can sample some tea.”
“Tea sampling. Is that part of my Winchester initiation?” I slow to a walk, rolling my neck.
He doesn’t answer. He’s bent at the waist, gulping in air like he’s storing it for later. It’s more than a little… cute.
I circle back. Playfully jab his shoulder. “Is it alive?”
“Ha bloody ha,” he says and unfolds himself. “You’re a good runner, Lila from Miami. But I’ll work up to you yet. Let’s move. We can walk around by the cathedral.”
I follow him through a footpath near Winchester College, the mid-morning air cool against my heated skin. I know this section well, but Orion stops again by a low brick retaining wall that marks the end of the path.
I immediately see why. Just like the secondhand clothing store last week, the wall has been tagged with black spray paint. “Again?”
“Same crew, too.” He points at the twisted graffiti shape. “What does that remind you of?”
“Kind of like those linked construction paper chains we used to make in school where you rip one off every day in December until Christmas. Only shorter.”
Nodding, he says, “I think they’re infinity symbols. But unlike the single one I cleaned at Come Around Again, this is supposed to represent a few linked together.” He traces his finger along one of the shapes and he’s right. A chain of three infinity symbols.
“Who’s doing this and why?”
“No one local.