overt (adj.)- plainly or readily apparent; not secret or hidden
Angie sat on the stairs with her hands in her lap. She gave me a searching look. As if reading the essence of who I am. I was never the one to cry wolf. I was hungry like the wolf. My ambition she was tired of. It was written all over her face.
That beautiful face.
“You didnt have to embarrass him like that.” I grin. Not because I’m an asshole. More because I’m genuinely an asshole. I can’t fuckin’ help it.
“I deserve you,” I say. “Not him.”
“I’m not a prize to be won,” Angie says. I understand what she says but I hear it better. Her voice says one thing but communicates something different.
She is…happy. Glad. Content to be rid of him Content to be with me.
“You ready to jump roofs.”
“Yep.”Since we started parkour training a week ago, I must say my muscles have been feeling somewhat sore. Her boyfriend challenged me to a race last night and lost miserably. I mean dont get me wrong, I’m still in great shape. It’s just that the landing part of parkour can’t even compare to the thrill of being in flight.
We head to the roof. She opens the door and immediately a rush of cold air breathes it’s way into the corridor. The breeze feels good on my hot face.
“You dont have to try win every time we race you know,” she says. “That’s not the way to a girl’s heart.”
“I thought that was mine already,” I say. “What else must I do?”
Angie walks over towards the edge of the building and looks down. The mind of the city is loud in my ears. People. Cars. Dogs. Cats. And the gravel underneath our feet.
Angie turns around after looking at whatever the hell she was looking at and begins to walk towards me with long, elegant strides.
“What else must you do?” She stops right in front of me and cups her hands on my chin and jawline. Her touch is welcomed.
“Make the jump for me,” Angie says. “Not for you.”
“I thought that’s what I did,” I say.
“We both know your pride won my attention. Now I want you to win my heart.” I gulp. I’m not ready. A grin stretches across her face.
I begin to stretch to prepare for one of many jumps I know I will make. This one feels different somehow. It’s not overt either. She can tell I’m feeling a little nervous about the whole situation. Regardless, I take to a sprint and leap with all of the strength I can muster. I feel my legs kick as if I’m propelling myself forward. The other side approaches quickly and before I know it, I land on the building and allow myself to roll forward to take away the force from the jump. I stand up and look back. Angie is still watching me.
“What you waiting for? Come on,” I yell. “Make the jump for me.”