Elevator

The doors to the elevator opened, and a couple new to the gym stood inside. “We’re riding it up and down,” she said. I got in and stood beside them, pressing the correct button for the top floor of the garage. 

She turned to her boyfriend and continued a conversation. “He was in a pissy mood, too. He said he was going to file a police report. Honestly, I respected the girl behind the front desk for not taking his shit. She called security to come get him.” The doors to the elevator opened, and I let them exit before me.

My mind wandered—Maybe someone took a photo of him in the locker room. Or he found someone rummaging through his locker. Perhaps an ex-boyfriend was stalking him, and he had a restraining order the gym wouldn’t honor. Maybe one of the handsy maintenance guys took too long of a look while he was in the shower.

No. 076