Chapter Fifteen - Lucas

I can’t stop replaying my last conversation with Samantha in my head. I can’t stop thinking about her at all. I had hoped that me taking a class of hers would make things better between us, but I’d gotten even more than I was expecting. Our conversation after class had actually been really great. I feel like I actually know her now, or that I’m starting to, anyway. She had seemed touched by my gesture and by my honesty. I hadn’t meant to tell her so much about me, but talking to her had felt strangely natural and easy.

The conversation had really surprised me, and I don’t find myself surprised often. I pick up the number for George, her landlord, frowning. I’m glad I didn’t go through with the call. I might want to do it at a later time, but for now, I think I should shelve the idea. I want to know more about Samantha before I make a choice like that.

Our talk made me realize how similar we are. I’d been thinking of her as someone not like me at all who does things in a way so far removed from how I do them – that I couldn’t understand her. Now, though, I think I’ve realized we actually care about a lot of the same things in life. She’s smart and she’s motivated, passionate, and stubborn. She challenges herself and her clients. She challenges me.

Part of the reason I’ve been so bored with the dating scene lately is that I’ve been finding it harder and harder to talk to women who I don’t have a lot in common with. I’ve found myself forcing enthusiasm for stories I don’t care about. I’ve felt them getting bored when I talk about my life and work.

I really enjoyed talking to Samantha, and I think I’d like to do it more often. Even if it’s just to make a friend, I think Samantha is someone I want in my life.

I look at her landlord’s number again and push it aside. For now, I’d like to see where this goes on its own. I know I’m probably just putting off the inevitable, but I decide I want to wait it out.

I pull her website back up, and I dial her office extension, hoping she’s in.

“Hello?” she says, picking up the phone. I smile to myself, glad to have caught her.

“Samantha. Hey, it’s Lucas,” I say. Samantha makes a surprised sound on the other end of the phone that I wish I could see.

“Oh! Hi there,” she says brightly, and I can’t help but feel pleased that she sounds happy to talk to me. “What can I do for you?”

“I was thinking about our conversation the other day and was wondering if you’d like to go jogging together sometime – maybe along the water?” I say. There’s a pause on the other end, like she hadn’t been expecting that. I wasn’t really expecting it from myself either, to tell the truth, but it feels like the right thing to do. The right next step in reaching out to her from here.

“That sounds great,” she says, surprising me a little.

“Great,” I echo. “I thought it might be fun to have a jogging partner for a change.”

“I haven’t jogged with anyone in years,” Samantha says, laughing softly. She seems glad to hear from me, like she’s looking forward to seeing me again. This is a huge change from how I’m sure she felt about me a few days ago. Then again, I’m also surprised by how much I’m looking forward to seeing her. I wouldn’t have thought that was possible either.

“Me either,” I admit. “When I ran in college, I did a lot of running in groups or with teammates, but that’s a lot harder to do now.”

“You ran in college?” Samantha asks. I wonder what she’s doing in her office, what her office looks like. I’ve seen a lot of the rest of the center, but never her office. A few days ago, I would have bet it was a mess of disorganization and maybe incense burning. Now, I’m thinking it’s probably so organized and clean that it puts my professionally cleaned office to shame.

“I did,” I say. “I paid for college on my track scholarship, actually.”

“A scholarship, huh? So, you’re a rags-to-riches success story?” Samantha asks. I can tell she’s teasing a little. I grin.

“More of a middle-class-to-riches success story,” I admit, laughing, “but the scholarship helped.”

“You must have been fast to get an offer like that,” Samantha says. I grin. In high school, I’d broken several statewide records for speed. I’d been scouted by schools all over the country. I’d gone on to a highly successful – and record-breaking – college career.

“I still am,” I say.

Samantha laughs. “I guess I’ll find out,” she says, making me smile again.

“You will,” I agree. “If you can keep up with me, that is.”

Samantha and I stay on the phone for almost an hour, talking about running and our favorite paths through the city, and then a little about college. She’s easy to talk to, and the conversation is fun and makes the time seem to pass quickly. I only realize how much time has passed when a desktop calendar alert pops on my screen, reminding me of a meeting I need to get to.

We make plans to go for our run soon, and I’m feeling really glad that I called her as I hang up. I’d much rather have this pleasant relationship with Samantha than I would fight with her. But I don’t know how long our ceasefire can last. I still am building a corporate gym across from her fitness center, after all. She may hate me again tomorrow. For now, though, it’s nice to feel like I’m building a connection with someone, even if I’m sure it’s going to fall apart again soon enough.