Classified

Chapter 38 - Continued

😂😂 Enjoy!

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As Donovan walked back into his room, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the bed. After hunting up a pair of running shorts, he changed into them and laced up his shoes. Grabbing his phone and headphones, he headed for the door. Music blared in his ears. His mind was a riot of thoughts that James's words had stirred up.

Fighting against the paths his brain was leading him down, he stepped into the spring evening. Even though he knew it would be too cold to run, he made the choice to do it anyways. He needed the chill to numb him, take him out his own head.

The sidewalks were crowded with people heading home. As he cut through the mass, he didn't register the admiring eyes following him, too focused on the rhythm of his movements, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath, anything that would distract him. Overhead the sky was a painter's palette, lavender, peach, rose gold and dusty pink swirling together.

Whether it was natural or a result of where his mind was, he found himself at the Lincoln Memorial, making his way around the Reflecting Pool.

Despite himself, he searched each passing face for hers.

When he realized what he was doing, he gritted his teeth and pushed his body harder. He sprinted up the steps and dropped to the stone at the top, falling into a quick set up pushups before he jumped back up and descended the steps again.

The breeze had a bite to it and it chilled him. As he was rounding the other side of the pool, his phone rang. Slowing to an easy jog, he glanced at the screen and answered. 

"What's up, Brock?" he asked, shifting to a cool down.

"I don't know, that's why I'm calling," his oldest brother said.

Donovan frowned, sifting through what Brock might be digging for. When Donovan wasn't quick to respond, Brock went on.

"I just got a text from James saying, 'Oh how the mighty have fallen'."

Resting his hands on his head, Donovan leaned his head back, inwardly cursing his brother. He left out a breath of frustration.

"It's nothing, James is being dramatic," Donovan said.

The trees around the Mall were glowing in the fading light, the tips stealing pieces of the sun's rays and wearing them like ornaments. Tourists cast Donovan simple running clothes  appearance surprised glances, their necks wrapped in scarves and their jackets tucking them in a cocoon of warmth.

"Sounds like him," Brock admitted.

The two brothers said nothing for a second.

"You want to talk about it?" Brock asked.

Sighing, Donovan ran a hand through his hair. As if sensing his bother's hesitation, Brock went on.

"I will be able to keep my mouth shut, unlike James who gossips like an old lady."

Donovan laughed and cut across to the lawn, where he began to stretch.

"How about this," Brock said, "I will do some guesswork."

"Okay."

There was something about coming straight out with it all that Donovan felt everything in him resisting, but a part of him needed to let some of his thoughts go, James just wasn't the one to trust them with.

"Since you've been dealing with high schoolers for the last four years, I'm going to say it has nothing to do with that."

Donovan's lack of response acted as confirmation.