14.

Mango juice.

The thought only occurred to me as I neared the last of my laps – breaths coming in short and fast from exhaustion – before coming to a gradual halt at the finish line of the indoor track. Breathing strictly from my nose; feeling the burn of air as it flooded in and out of my lungs like sparking embers; I placed my hands on my knees, searching for composure again when the image of a plastic, orange-filled bottle returned to me.

But Gayoon's voice dispelled it as quickly as it appeared. 'It's been seven laps now, Rin.'

'Really?' I turned to look at her on the bleachers, settled between both our bags as if they were cushions. 'I thought I did ten.'

'Well, when the track is 400 meters long, even one lap would make me feel like I'd run way more than that.'

I couldn't help but grin at the bombed-out look Gayoon sported at that, pretending to flail like a bird of sorts before falling back against the step behind her.

'Girl, how do you have so much energy? We just got through four consecutive hours of lecturing today. You should be beat!'

'Like you.'

'Yes, like me!' she cried in disbelief. 'You've got one hell of a power lifestyle going on, Saerin. I don't know how you do it.'

Gayoon's praises made me falter; my smile now reluctant as I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. Even the notion of a 'power lifestyle' was laughable, given the fact that I was far from as disciplined as I seemed.

I took to looking over the indoor track. It was the older, less popular venue as opposed to the university sports centre right next door decked with state-of-the-art equipment. As opposed to its younger counterpart, the indoor track's age showed significantly; the walls a dull shade of juniper, windows marred with a couple of years’ worth of rain marks, and even the large, outlying seating area was old and worn. The first and last time I recalled being in here was...

'One year ago,' Gayoon's voiced pulled me out of my reverie. 'I remembered coming here with you for the first time. What a drab place.'

'Tell me about it,' I agreed, turning on the spot, observing it from every angle my eyes could reach. 'You'd think they would revamp the place or...'

'I'm worried about you, Saerin.'

I turned back to look at Gayoon slowly. Eyes level, fixated on me, and lips pursed in a firm line, it didn't take much to know she was no longer the jovial, high-spirited presence that was here only moments ago.

'You've been running these days. A lot. I've known you since eleventh grade, Saerin. You either do laps when you're feeling good or when you're anxious, and it doesn't take a genius to know which reason it is these days.'

At a loss for words of the observation, I could only stare at Gayoon, feeling my heart drop by the dejected combination of her glassy eyes and pinched lips as she gnawed on them.

'Gayoon...'

'We don't even have decent conversations anymore. I always feel like I'm walking on eggshells when we talk because I don't want to slip up and say something about Hansol or the accident. It feels like you're not even here sometimes, you know?'

I would have been lying if I said the words didn't sting. But they certainly did for a number of reasons. I was compelle