Free Going Long by Ginger Scott Page A

really see it coming. There aren’t any warning signs,
at least not when your head is as messed up as mine was. I remember my
surroundings went bright, a golden yellow like I was suddenly thrust under a
heat lamp. My balance was thrown, and I stepped to the side in an attempt to
regain it. That’s when I felt the zip of my other foot whirl by my now
stationary one and felt the smack of my face hitting the conveyer belt, my legs
twisting and my vision suddenly fading to black.
    I awoke to the sting of an ice
pack on my forehead. I was laying flat on my back and the room was spinning
above me, the air conditioning was making a whooshing sound over my eardrums.
    “Hey you,” a voice was calling
to me, but my eyes couldn’t yet focus. When I was finally able to make out the
soft white towel being pressed to my face and recognized what it was, I let my
vision focus on everything else. Suddenly Gavin was there. “Ah, there she is,”
he said, his mouth forming a stretched smile, pushing dimples into each of his
cheeks.
    “Wha…happened?” I was still
pretty woozy, and suddenly I felt like vomiting. I grabbed hard onto Gavin’s
arm and pulled myself into a sitting position, slapping my other hand over my
mouth and gesturing to him that I thought I might be sick.
    “Oh, got it. Let’s get you
somewhere. Here, hold onto me,” he lifted me to his side and supported my
weight as he walked me from the circle of people who had gathered around us to
the lobby of benches near the drinking fountain. The women’s locker room was
really close, and I was pretty sure I needed to go in there. I looked over at
the door. Gavin understood what I was saying and leaned against it, yelling
inside to see if anyone was in there.
    “Free and clear. Come on, let’s
go,” he said, sliding over a maintenance sign so he could walk me into the
ladies locker room. Once I got to the sink and splashed some water on my face,
the nausea I was fighting against started to fade. I gripped the counter by the
sink and turned my head up to take in my reflection. I was ghost white and my
hair was drenched with sweat. I couldn’t tell if it was from the running or my
fainting spell.
    “Are you feeling okay?” Gavin
asked, reaching over to steady me as he walked me back through the main door. A
few women were waiting outside and gave him a skeptical look when he removed
the maintenance sign and smiled at them as we walked by. I started to lose my
balance a bit again and caught myself on the nearby bench.
    “Okay, that’s it. You’re going
to get checked out by someone,” Gavin said as he started to walk to the main
front desk.
    “No, I’m fine. Really. I just
overdid it,” I tried to stop him.
    He paused for a moment and
pulled one side of his mouth up to consider what I was telling him. Then he
shook his head no quickly and continued to the front desk where the girl
working there ogled him as he leaned over the counter and pointed toward me.
Her flirtatious smile soon faded into a frown as she looked at me. She got up
and walked into the back offices and came out with one of the sports trainers
and the three of them approached me.
    “She was running and then I
looked over and saw her completely go limp on the treadmill. She hit her head
pretty hard, and she was out for several seconds,” Gavin explained to the man
who was now kneeling in front of me with a medic box filled with gauze and
ointments, none of which could do anything to solve what was wrong with
me. 
    “Hmmmm,” the man considered for
a moment. “Do you mind going into our back office and grabbing one of the big
water bottles for me?” Gavin just nodded and jogged to the back rooms
immediately. When he was gone, I just brought my pathetic and embarrassed gaze
up to meet Mr. Trainer’s.
    He smiled at me softly and
reached up to grab my wrist to test my pulse. “I’m Chris. Can you tell me your
name?” he said, watching the seconds on his watch and staring at my eyes