At The Club

She saw them come and go.

Different personalities, types, and genders.

She didn’t like some of the guys there looking at her, because she’d seen them from the beginning and didn’t like being attached to after everyone else had been picked through.

She had been once in the way past interested, too – but had learned better early on when she caught a derisive glance cast at her from one who thought that she wasn’t looking at that moment.

It only took that one painful lesson to shore herself up away from him and pull up straight after that.

Since then he seemed to have mellowed toward her – and in fact at times, he seemed to go out of his way to place himself directly in front of her so that she’d notice.

But she didn’t want anyone there.

And she certainly wasn’t going to trust him now that she knew that he was capable of cuting her care into ribbons behind that neutral facade.

Recently there was another one circling, getting ever more bolder over time as his confidence picked up.

She didn’t understand why these guys thought to try with her.

She wasn’t flirty, kept to herself, and (in her mind, anyway) clearly had injuries that she was working on overcoming.

She wasn’t there for the chance of dating.

She was there for healing and some female peer and staff exchanges of friendliness.

And maybe, if he thought of it, the one she wanted might someday walk in.