Veneer Read Online Free Page B

some circumstances, five minutes would be a nothing interval. If spent with Deron, perhaps playing a game or just watching the turtles sun themselves at Gillock Pond, the time would have passed in an instant. But with her body breaking down and the pain building in her lungs, each second ticked by like a slow drip from a faucet. The only choice was to look away from the numbers, try not to think about them.
    The woods ended as the stationary runners veered right and came upon a clearing. A couple hundred yards away was a welcoming oasis with three palm trees set in an equilateral triangle, the tips leaning in towards the center. A hint of fresh water sparkled between them and Rosalia could almost pick out its aroma over those of her classmates. It was a satisfying image, no doubt, but ultimately it was just a high-tech version of a carrot on a stick, another virtual reward for real labor.
    When the machine began to slow, she leaned forward and stretched her legs by letting them slide to the end of the treadmill one at a time, each extension bringing a slight tingle to her calves. Finally, the belt stopped altogether and she stood up, surprised to find the tightness in her chest gone. Though she hated to admit it, the constant jogging had done wonders for her endurance. Plus, it had kept her slim at a time when no amount of reconciliation could hide a fat ass.
    Rosalia grinned when she looked over and saw Deron doubled over next to his treadmill. He had his hands on his knees and was gasping for breath as if he had just run a marathon. She felt the strange sensation of effortless walking as she approached him; her legs still thought she was on the treads and were pushing harder than they needed to. It wasn’t until she was right on top of him that he looked up, still gulping air.
    “Good jog?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
    “Sure,” he replied, between breaths.
    “Come on, stand up. You need to open your airway.” With a little prodding, she got him to straighten up. “Put your hands on your head and lean back. That’ll help you get some air.” She let her hand linger on his shoulder.
    “This isn’t the alley behind the Y, Ms. Collier,” warned Coach Baird.
    A chorus of snickering made Rosalia remove her offending hand. There was gratitude in Deron’s eyes though and that’s all that really mattered. It took a moment for the blush in his cheeks to lessen.
    “So you’re a doctor now?” he teased.
    Rosalia scoffed in reply. “You don’t have to be a doctor to know basic things about your body. People spend so much time focused on their veneers that they don’t realize what’s going on underneath.” She touched her sternum, drew Deron’s eyes to the center of her soaked t-shirt. “See what I mean?”
    He looked away casually, as if her breasts held no sway over him. “Yeah, under your shirt.”
    “What’s that?” She gave him a confused smile.
    “I’m interested in... realizing what’s under...” He trailed off, then added, “Your shirt.”
    “Oh,” she replied. “This I knew.”
    “Fifteen minutes, people. Let’s hit those showers. I don’t want to be smelling you in the halls all day.” Coach Baird’s voice boomed in the room, a side effect of yelling at the lacrosse team after school.
    “Can you get out of next period early?” asked Rosalia.
    Deron raised an eyebrow as they shuffled towards the exit.
    “I can tell you about the book you didn’t read.” It sounded too judgmental the second it came out, so she tempered it with a smile.
    “Ah yeah, the book.” He shrugged. “If you think it’ll help.”
    “Couldn’t hurt.”
    “How are you going to get out of Drama?” he asked.
    Rosalia laughed in response, putting her hand on his shoulder again. “Mrs. Hawkins is a pushover. I’ll just tell her I’m having women’s troubles . Seriously, that’s what she calls it. As if bleeding—”
    “Well,” interrupted Deron, “this has been both informative and