Chapter 25
OLIVER
This is nowhere near the stupidest thing I’ve done.
Unfortunately, that list is so long and storied that it’s unlikely anything I do at this point will even make the highlights.
Maybe I should start a new one for stupid shit I do now that I’m over thirty.
It might not be as interesting, but it would be filled with bad choices that I can’t defend with youthful ignorance.
It was a good idea when Aaron and I were doing it together. It’s part of why I chose this one in the first place. I knew he wouldn’t be running with me, but at least we’d be out at the same time.
“What’s your goal time?” A girl wearing all pink asks me. Even her gloves are a bright shade of fluorescent pink. Probably great for reflecting car lights on night runs, but a bit much for eight in the morning.
“Huh?” I know I heard her, but, for some reason, the words aren’t processing right.
“Your goal time,” she says it slowly, like maybe that will fix my problem. “Like, how fast you’re hoping to run this?”
“Oh, I don’t really have one. I just want to finish.
” Honestly, I have no idea what I’m going to be able to manage.
A few numbers floated around in my head a couple of weeks ago, but with the stress of this past week, any big hopes I had fell apart.
I still did my training runs, but they felt flat and lackluster.
She looks annoyed by my comment. “You might want to move further back. The fastest people start near the front.”
Okay, then. I take a few steps away from her before I take in the scene. There are hundreds of people crowded onto this one side street waiting for the race to start. I can see the start line ahead in the distance, but I’m far enough away that I have to squint to make out the lettering.
As Aaron promised, there are signs on the edge of the road stating the pace that they expect to be in that general area. I don’t really pay attention to that stuff, but I’m right where he told me to be.
Whatever, I’m not feeling it anyway. I move back a little further until I can’t see the woman in pink anymore. Before anyone else can chime in, I put on my headphones and start the playlist I made.
Aaron checked in six times last night. Making sure I got back to Cardinal Falls safely. Making sure I was still planning to run today.
What he never asked was whether he could meet up with me when we finished.
I know, his race is different. I’m running three miles and change this morning.
He’s running twenty-six point two miles.
They started earlier, but he’ll still be running when I finish.
Initially, I planned to wait around for him, see him cross the line.
Now, I’m not so sure. This week has been strange.
The one thing I know for sure is that I want Aaron in my life.
I also know we can’t keep going the way we are now. It will tear me apart to keep showing up to Matthias’s house, pretending that the man I love is nothing more than a close friend. He said we could tell them, but I need it to happen soon.
Not soon, now. Otherwise, my heart might rip in half.
Jane wants me to be patient with him. She thinks he’ll get there if I give him time. I want to, desperately. But I hate the idea of being someone’s dirty secret.
They make an announcement overhead that I can’t understand over the noise of the crowd and static. I’ll figure it out. How hard can it be to run over the start line?
I pull out my phone and log in to the race app. It’s supposed to let me find my own time, but it’ll also show me Aaron’s progress.
Or, it should show me his progress. His little beacon hasn’t moved. The marathon started an hour ago; by now, he should’ve covered enough miles to pass the first timing mat.
Maybe he started toward the back? He’s fast, but I don’t have a good sense of what that means in the context of other runners.
The large group starts shuffling forward, so I tuck my phone back into my pocket and bounce up and down a few times.
It’s more to help me warm up than anything else.
I knew picking a winter race meant it would be cold, but I figured that wouldn’t matter while I was running.
What I didn’t factor in was the waiting-around time.
It takes an ungodly amount of time for the mob to reach the starting mat for the race.
Eventually, we hit the start line, and everyone breaks into a run.
Some people around me start sprinting, others work into a steady jog.
I don’t have a strategy so much as a plan for basically what I do on every run. Survive.
At the first mile and the water station, I grab a cup from one of the volunteers. I shout my thanks to them, but I doubt they can understand me. Most of the cup’s contents end up down my front, but at least a few drops end up in my mouth. Good enough.
AARON
Waiting is pure torture.
I have no idea how long it will take Oliver to get to the midway point of his run. I had a general guess, but it all depends on exactly where he started in the lineup.
As people pass me, I scan the crowd, afraid I’ll miss him. Come on, come on.
I wouldn’t call what I’m doing a good plan, but it has to work.
There’s no other choice. I desperately need to make things right with him.
I spot the ridiculous purple beanie he’s been wearing for runs, the one with eggplants on it.
For once, I’m thankful he has it on since it makes him easy to see.
Before he gets any closer, I duck into the mass of people on the road.
Thanks to one of my friends who works with the race organization, I was able to get a number for the five-k.
I won’t get an official time since I didn’t start with the rest of the group, but at least I won’t get kicked out of the course.
It takes a little bobbing and weaving, but eventually I manage to come up alongside him.
“Run here often?” Dorky, I know.
Oliver does a double-take, his face pure shock when he recognizes me. He slows a bit as he takes out his headphones.
“What are you doing?” he asks through ragged breaths. “Your race doesn’t come through here.”
I take a deep breath, ready to put everything I practiced yesterday into play. “I wanted to run with you instead.”
“Aaron. You can’t do that.” He stops, right in the middle of the road, blocking the path for a bunch of people.
“Come on.” I grab his arm and get him moving again. When we’re back in synch, I say, “There are literally hundreds of marathons every year. You’re running your very first five-k. I’d rather be here. With you.” I add the last part just in case my intention wasn’t clear.
“But you trained so hard.”
“So did you. Besides, I needed to talk to you.”
“The phone works.”
“Only if you answer it.” We’ve been trading text messages back and forth for the last week, but he’s conveniently been busy anytime I tried to call. I don’t doubt the twins were keeping him occupied, but I’m pretty sure it was more avoidance than anything else. “I love you.”
“What?!”
“I love you, Oliver.”
“You can’t say that to me right now.” He sniffles as he wipes his eyes on his gloves. “I can’t hug you or kiss you or anything.”
“You could say it back? Only if you mean it, though. I’m not trying to pressure you.” That’s the last thing I want. My friends all agree that he’s in love with me, but it doesn’t stop this lump from forming in the back of my throat.
“Fuck, Aaron. Of course, I love you. I’ve been in love with you for months.”
“I’m really sorry that I couldn’t be at Matthias’s house. If there was anything I could have done—”
“Stop. Seriously. I know. I was a jerk about it. We lost a whole week we could’ve spent enjoying each other because I was being selfish.”
We pause our conversation as we hit the next water station. I show Oliver how to pinch the edge of the cup so that most of the liquid gets into his mouth instead of onto his sweatshirt.
“You aren’t selfish. You have needs, and I want to meet them.”
“Your job is important. So is mine. I mean, not to thousands of people or anything, but it still takes precedence sometimes.”
“You’re important to me. So we’ll figure it out, adjust. But there’s something I should tell you first.” I can see the finish line approaching in the distance. I pick up my pace, just a little, and Oliver follows me.
“Go,” I yell at him when we are about a hundred feet away. “Finish as fast as you can.”
When he pulls away from me, I let him go so he’ll have nice pictures to remember the finish by. There’s only one first time, and it’s worth it for him to have some great memories.
As soon as he steps to the side, my friends are on him. They made large signs with his name, cheering him on.
“Way to go,” Nathan says, clapping him on the back. I wince a little, knowing how sweaty Oliver gets. Nathan can handle it.
“Way better than I ever did.” I’m pretty sure Tyler last ran a mile sometime in high school. That’s only if he didn’t fake an illness to get out of PE.
“Here you go.” Matthias, the practical one, hands him a water bottle.
“Are you guys here for Aaron? He didn’t run the marathon.”
“Um, did you not see our signs?” Nathan points to the one Colt is holding. Oliver’s name is written in blue glitter. I’m hoping he made that at work. There’s no way Nathan let him in the house with glitter.
“But?” It’s all he says before I wrap him up in my arms, kissing him senseless. I can’t hold myself back any longer. I love him. He loves me. The rest of it, we can work on.
“What was that for?” he says when I put him down.
I shrug. “Because I can.”
Oliver’s eyes go wide as he turns toward my friends. There’s no shock on any of their faces. “Um… you guys know?”
“Sorry,” I chime in. “I know we agreed to tell them together, but I spilled the beans on Thursday night.”
“The rest of us,” Frank adds, “had to hear about it second hand.” He steps forward and pulls Oliver into a hug. “Fucking finally.”
It’s then that the signs must fully register. Frank’s says, Go, Aaron’s boyfriend.
Oliver reaches for my hand, which I happily give him.
“There’s a party this afternoon at Matthias’s house. A bit of a post-race celebration. Will you come with me? As my date?”
“Don’t make it weird,” Tyler says. “I’ve got the perfect beer to celebrate with. It’s already got your name on it.”
“Yeah, of course.” He leans in a little closer to me. “As long as we can have our celebration first,” he whispers. From the looks on the faces around me, he did not say that quietly enough.
“Sounds perfect.”