My socks are damp with forgotten sweat, stuck to the gym floor as I pace back and forth while waiting for Rachel. Her last text said something about being on time, but that was two hours ago. The fluorescent lights hum in perfect synchrony, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of dental exams. Just as I start feeling like a lost sock myself, her bright red boots appear at the edge of my vision. Rachel flashes a sheepish grin, apologizing profusely for oversleeping. The gym's background chatter and clanging weights abruptly fade into the distance as her eyes catch mine and our awkward, sweaty dance begins.
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