It wasn’t that John didn’t like Bernadette, it was that he didn’t know what to do with her. They had ended up partners on a teacher-assigned group project. He had felt sorry for her at the time. He wasn’t smart, wasn’t interested in school, and barely put forth effort. He didn’t even know how to be pleasant or sociable when she could finally force him to work on the project. He mostly just nodded and agreed to whatever she wanted. If she got what she wanted, she wouldn’t expect as much from him.

“What do you do for fun?” She asked, staring at him. She was making fun of him, he was sure.

“Uh, you know.” He shrugged, but she continued to watch him. “I uh-- run.” That was a good enough explanation for what he did. He did run quite a lot. Usually away from cops or lights or someone shouting after him.

“Like, track?”

John couldn’t help but snort at the question. “Nah, like uh--. F-free running, that kinda stuff.”

“Oh.” Her expression brightened, and he immediately regretted admitting anything. He should have said he boxed. Something girls wouldn’t be interested in doing.

-

He really didn’t know how she talked him into it. Maybe it as because he had felt bad, not working as hard as he probably should have on their project. Maybe it was so Porrima could see him with a friend and get off his back. Still-- she didn’t look like the type to be able to keep up. She’d likely give it a shot and then leave him alone. Donny chirped as they waited for her, and greeted her with a low hum when she finally arrived.

“So, you’re ready? You, uh, really wanna do this?” John raised a brow, trying to give her one last chance to back out, but she nodded. “Okay.” He shrugged and turned, jogging down the street before he banked into an alley and picked up speed. It was strange, to be running in the middle of the day without anyone chasing him, and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up.

It was easy at first, but he quickly took to narrower alleys, short fences, and then fire escapes and low rooftops. It wasn’t long before looking over his shoulder was irrelevant-- she kept up well enough, even outpacing him here and there as she found quicker routes than he did. Donny, running behind them both kept him from wandering too far. But they both flagged eventually, and John arced their path toward the park, but she had other plans, and led them back away, stopping finally in front of a small cafe.

John frowned, huffing harder than he would have liked, even as she did the same. He squinted at the windows, and she tossed a glance before tilting her head to indicate they should go inside. The air conditioning was blessedly cool against his sweat, but John couldn’t help but feel out of place. He was sweaty and gross, and he could have sworn everyone was looking at him, even as they all stared at their coffees or their cell phones or their laptops. “Come on,” She finally got out. “They’ve got some really great teas here. Good for rehydrating, and uh. Stuff.” Her hand brushed his elbow, pulling him up to the counter with her.

He stared at the menu as she ordered, slipping a card out of god-knows-where (women’s shorts apparently had tiny pockets sewn into them?). He didn’t recognize half of the words, despite the flowing descriptions beneath each one. It was tea. How many different ways could they really describe it?

He was directed to a little table first, and he blanched. If they weren’t running, that meant conversation, and he was terrible at conversation. They didn’t even have the pretense of their shared schoolwork to act as a buffer.

“So, this is what you do?”