The Blind Spot by Michael Robertson

Author:Michael Robertson [Robertson, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 33

A full five minutes after he’d finished on the treadmill, Nick remained in the pod, hunched over while he gasped for breath. The nausea had now passed and the dizziness gone. He finally had it in him to walk to the changing rooms. The heavy dance music flooded in when he opened the door, his legs wobbly with every step. Sure, he felt like shit, but he’d entered the pod feeling like death.

Falling through the changing room door, still sweating faster than he could wipe it away, Nick halted. Had they not made eye contact, he would have turned back around and left.

“Hi, Nick!” Graham said. Dressed in just a pair of pants, he stood proud with his six-pack and brilliant white smile.

Nick tugged his T-shirt away from his sweating body while continuing to regulate his breathing. At his locker, he pressed his finger to the scanner and his face to the mask.

“I heard you working out when I passed your pod,” Graham said.

“All right, boy! I know I’m out of shape. You don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

“You sounded like you were really pushing yourself. I was going to say well done. It takes a lot of mental strength to come to the gym.”

“Don’t be such a condescending prick.”

As Graham’s chin dropped, Nick turned his back on the boy, retrieved his phone, and put his headphones in while starting the Wellbeing app. His stomach twisted when Bruce’s name flashed up. He pressed play.

“Nick’s a good man. He deserves to be happy in everything he does.”

The insincerity damn near choked Nick. He flicked it onto the next lift. Karla this time; they must have been together. Probably lying in bed next to one another. Post-coital, no doubt they found some form of guilt in their dark hearts and thought this would somehow alleviate it.

“He’ll make someone a lovely husband …”

But just not someone as pretty as her was what she meant. Or successful. Arrogant bitch.

Eight more lifts, and they hadn’t made it to lunchtime yet. Adam, then Jane, then Michelle … Most of the people from work left him nice messages. Not Graham though. After he’d removed his headphones, he glared at the boy. At least he’d put his fucking clothes on.

“I still don’t get why you use that cursed app.”

“Do you have friends?” Nick said.

“I have plenty of friends, thank you. I just don’t need them to talk about me when we’re apart. I don’t need other people’s insincere approval to make me feel better about myself.”

“Most people in this society think it’s nice to hear kind things spoken about you.”

“Most people might think it’s a delicacy to eat dog shit—”

“Your point is?”

“That I won’t make a decision based on what most people think if it’s counter to my well-being.”

Nick balled his fists, which Graham glanced down at. “What are you?” Nick finally said. “Some kind of Pandora freak? Because if you are, we don’t employ people who use that crap.”

“How can I be a Pandora freak if I don’t use the Wellbeing app?”

Nick ground his teeth.

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