What If You & Me (Say Everything #2) - Roni Loren Page 0,10

to the C-shaped jogging prosthesis he used for runs. Being able to get outside and exercise were vital. Of all the suggestions the fire department’s psychologist had given to him, that had been the most helpful. Hill had always leaned on hard workouts to channel whatever he was going through at the time into physical exertion, and now he needed it more than ever.

He didn’t know how to do this new life—the one where he wasn’t at the station daily doing his job, the one where he didn’t have two working legs, the one where his ex-fiancée woke up every morning next to someone else.

But he knew how to run.

Until his heart was pounding and his T-shirt was soaked and he was too exhausted to think much of anything.

He jogged around another bend in the path, taking the long way, the morning light beginning to change the color of the sky and a woodpecker starting up a rapid rhythm in a tree off to his right. This was the only version of peace he was going to get today, so he wanted to enjoy the last few minutes. Once he got home, he had to set up a few doctor’s appointments and then meet up with his friend Ramsey for lunch to talk “strategy,” his friend’s new favorite topic. The lunch should be something to look forward to, but lately Ramsey had turned into the teacher in that old Twisted Sister music video, constantly asking what Hill was going to do with his life. As if Hill were some fresh-out-of-college kid who had unlimited options.

He’d already made that tough decision in his life. He’d become a firefighter. It’d been the perfect job for him. He liked being on his toes, not knowing what the day would hold, being able to help and protect people in a very tangible way. Now that was gone. Poof. Game over. Like he’d lost a life in a video game and now he was starting back at the beginning, only this time with his original superpowers taken away and no chance of getting them back.

He didn’t want to play that game. That game sucked.

The parking lot came into view in the distance, the end of his run in sight. He slowed his pace, preparing to cool down. The morning crowd was trickling in—the white-haired power walkers, a few college students, and parents pushing strollers. A lady in bright-pink leggings was headed toward him, a little boy who looked like her in tow. Hill shifted more to the right side to give them room as he passed them. The little boy noticed Hill as he got closer, and his eyes went wide. He pointed at Hill’s running-blade prosthesis. “Mommy, it’s a robot!”

The mother blanched, sending Hill an embarrassed look. “Flynn, that’s not nice. He’s not a—”

But the little boy had broken free from his mother’s handhold and was rushing toward Hill. “Robot!”

“Flynn!”

The boy stopped in front of him, and Hill slowed to a halt, breathing hard.

The mother was right on the kid’s tail, and she grabbed his hand quickly again. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. He doesn’t know any better and—”

Hill forced a practiced smile. “It’s okay.” He looked to the little boy who was openly staring at Hill’s prosthesis, a look of amazement on his face. The sheer innocence of it softened some of Hill’s edginess over being stared at. He appreciated that kids didn’t play the polite games adults did. He remembered his little cousin, Jessa, at that age. Five-year-olds were honest as fuck. He lifted his knee, flexing the prosthesis so the boy could see how it worked. “I’m only part robot. We’re a secret society, though, so don’t tell anyone else you saw one of us.”

“Wow,” the little boy said. “Cool.”

The mother gave Hill an apologetic smile. “Thanks. Again, I’m sorry.”

Hill waved her off. “It’s fine. Enjoy your day.”

She tugged Flynn’s arm and got him walking again. The boy gave Hill a little wave and finally went with his mother. Hill walked the rest of the way back to the car, draining his water bottle in the process, suddenly feeling exhausted down to his bones.

By the time he pulled up to his house, he wanted a shower so badly, he could almost feel the water hitting his skin. But the path to get into his little yellow duplex was blocked. There was an open bag of soil on the front lawn, a line of pink and purple flowers in containers on