Chapter Three. Clara #2
A wave of nausea rolled through me as I slowed. I hunched over, hands slipping a bit against my slick knees as I gasped for air, my face on fire. Tears sprang from the backs of my eyes, but it had to be from pushing so hard. I couldn’t be sad. I didn’t do sad.
“You can get lightheaded like that,” a deep voice said.
Reid said.
He never talked to me. Or anyone, really. I didn’t know if it was because he was stuck-up, shy, or socially anxious, but he’d been fully standoffish since he arrived.
I cast a glance at him, and his hair was darker with sweat, his skin flushed across his sharp cheekbones.
I forced myself upright and shot him a baleful glare, my chest still rising and falling rapidly.
“I know,” I gasped out.
Not that I was even in the same stratosphere as him, but I had been running cross-country for four years, too. I didn’t need him telling me what to do. Reid nodded and turned away.
After a few panting minutes and several chugs of water, my breath returned.
But when I took a step forward, a sudden shock of pain shot through my calf muscle.
Just as Coach and the rest of the team took off for the cooldown run, I sank to the rocky dirt, clutching my leg.
I tried to straighten it to release the muscle, but it didn’t work.
I couldn’t help the tears as they pushed through my lashes this time. Damn it.
Suddenly, I felt a presence at my side. “You have to keep it straight.”
My eyes flew open, and I swiped a palm across them. “Where did you—” I couldn’t finish my sentence because another bolt of pain ripped through my calf.
“It’s going to keep cramping until you straighten it out.”
“I know,” I said through clenched teeth. “But it hurts too much.”
Reid let out an exasperated breath as he crouched down. “Can I?”
My gaze bounced between his hovering hands and my leg. I nodded.
His fingers were strong, his hands warm as he kneaded the exact spot. His touch was clinical, gentle. Like he’d done it a hundred times. He probably had. State champion and all that.
As he grabbed my dusty sneaker to slowly guide my leg straight with his other hand, I slammed my lips together to avoid an embarrassing sound slipping out of me and fixed my gaze on the small black gauges in his ears. They made him look way edgier than anyone else in Woodhurst.
I let my eyes sweep across his face. There was a line between his eyebrows, the corner of his full lips tugged down as he concentrated. He was stunning on camera, but the up-close version was … an experience.
He pressed harder until I hissed.
“Too much?” he asked. His grip began to loosen, and I shot my hand out, grabbing his forearm to stop him.
“No, it feels good.” I breathed. My calf was finally beginning to relax. But it wasn’t until our gazes collided that I realized how close we were. How suggestive that sounded. I let go of him and scrambled to add, “Um, I mean, you’re—it’s helping.”
He cleared his throat and nodded. I was grateful he was so concentrated on my leg that he didn’t see the blush shoot across my cheeks.
When the muscle finally released, he looked up at me again.
“Better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I smiled. He didn’t. In the few weeks he’d been on the team, I’d noticed he almost never smiled. Which was good because I could imagine even his smirks were dangerous. One of those guys who was just too hot to be anything but trouble.
He studied my face in a way that forced me to swallow. Hard. I was sure mascara was smeared under my eyes, my hair frizzing. My usually fair complexion an unholy tomato red.
But the way he looked at me didn’t make me feel like he thought I was all that disgusting.
I pulled my leg back, and Reid’s hands dropped instantly.
Everywhere he had touched crackled with tiny fireworks, and I ran a palm across my bare skin to rid myself of the sensation.
“Ready?” he asked, jutting his chin toward the trail.
I eyed him like he must’ve been joking and hauled myself up to standing. “Nuh-uh. No more running. I’m cooling down the way god intended.”
I gestured toward the lake, and his eyebrows shot up.
“Coach won’t like that.”
“Oh, but I will,” I said dreamily.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
I don’t know what came over me—maybe it was the electricity still coursing through my leg from where he touched me that urged me on—but I said, “You coming?”
He glanced over his shoulder as if looking to see if anyone was watching, then nodded.
When we arrived at the edge of the tree line, I couldn’t get my shoes off fast enough. The lake was shaped like a crescent moon around the mountain. Only a wide shot would manage to capture the size and striking blue of the water from the shore.
But Reid eyed the water warily. “There aren’t eels, are there?”
I froze. “Eels? In Crescent Lake?”
He just stared at me. Good god, he was serious. I wanted to laugh, but the guy looked terrified.
“No. There are no eels.”
I shed my tank top down to my black sports bra and plunged deep into the cool water. When I emerged, I looked around for Reid in the lake, only to see him still hovering at the edge.
“Can you not swim or something?” I called out.
His expression flattened, a competitive edge to his voice. “Of course I can swim.”
“Then c’mon.”
He hesitated.
“Dare you.”
His eyes locked on mine as the first hint of fun entered his voice. “I take dares seriously.”
“So do I.”
The silence hung as he considered.
I turned to swim around like I couldn’t care less what he did. A moment later, I felt the splash when Reid hit the water behind me. I smiled to myself and ignored the hum of satisfaction I felt. After he rose out and shook his hair quickly, I said, “Besides, the eels only come out at night.”
I ruined the prank by cracking up at his horrified expression.
Reid narrowed his eyes at me and threw a mellow splash my way. “Mean.”
“But funny.” I grinned.
We floated in silence a few minutes before he swam back to the bank and pulled himself out. Water sloshed down the valley of his strong back, and I didn’t realize I was staring until he turned and caught me. I quickly flipped onto my own back, letting my eyes fall closed against the sunlight.
Reid’s voice cut through the quiet when he asked, “What made you push like that today?”
The question caught me off guard, and I straightened until my toes grazed the surface of a smooth, mossy rock below.
Why did he care? Even if I wanted to talk about it—which I didn’t—it wasn’t like I could just open up about my own drunken mistakes, or Josh being a cheating bastard, or my parents’ crappy, confusing relationship to anyone, let alone some guy I had never exchanged so much as a glance with before that day.
“Do you even know my name?”
He blinked. “Clara Suarez. Senior. Racing PR twenty-four, twenty-seven.”
“You know our stats?”
He pushed his wet hair off his forehead and propped his arms across his bent knees. “I know your stats.”
“I can’t tell if that’s creepy or cool,” I said honestly.
He didn’t miss a beat when he said, “Definitely creepy.”
I burst out laughing, and his lips twisted again like he was trying not to.
“Do you know my name?” he asked.
“Everyone knows your name.” I swam backward, kicking my legs up again until my polished blue toenails popped out of the water.
When he didn’t respond, I looked over at him. His brow was furrowed, so I was pretty sure that was the wrong thing to say. At least I had successfully rerouted the conversation away from myself.
“Nice dodge, by the way.”
Or not. Most people didn’t notice when I avoided questions on purpose. It made my stomach flip that he did.
He looked over my head at the water when he said, “You need to train more consistently, or you’ll keep hurting yourself.”
That was, like, the fifth time he had tried to tell me something as if I didn’t already know.
“I don’t remember asking for your advice,” I huffed.
“Fair enough.” A pause. “But I’m still right.”
I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh again. “You know, you’re a little infuriating.”
What I really meant was “fascinating.” I itched for my camera, wishing I could train it on him again.
“So are you.” He finally smiled, and my god it was worse than I’d imagined. It was warm and a little self-conscious. Shy, I concluded immediately. He was confident but also shy.
Time to go.
My feet squelched in my shoes as we walked back to the trailhead near the parking lot. Most of the team had cleared out already, but Coach watched us pointedly as we approached.
He gave Reid a disappointed once-over then said, “Just because it’s summer doesn’t mean you can slack on your training.”
“Dad, she—”
“We’ll talk about it later. Go stretch. You too, Suarez.”
When we were out of earshot from his dad, I said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
The anxiety slipped off Reid’s face as he shrugged. “Worth it.”
My skin went hot where our elbows brushed. Before I could start stretching, Josh approached.
“Rousseau!” he called. “Nice hustle today.” He flashed Reid an easy grin that sharpened when it landed on me. “You disappeared.”
I didn’t respond, but Josh didn’t get the hint and just hovered there, waiting.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice bored.
“We need to talk.”
My pulse spiked as I noticed the varsity girls whispering to one another behind him as they watched us. “No, we don’t.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that, Clare-bear,” Josh said.
“Don’t call me that.”
His jaw ticked. “You liked it last night.”
My entire face flamed. I didn’t want to be having this conversation at all, but definitely not in front of Reid. Josh pushed his damp, dirty-blond hair off his forehead and reached for me.
I backed away several steps. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
His face turned sour. “Fine. Whatever. Be a bitch.”
“Hey.” Reid didn’t need to raise his voice to draw our attention.
“Bro, no offense, but this doesn’t concern you,” Josh said, rolling his eyes.
Reid lifted his chin ever so slightly. If I had been filming, I’d push in there for the close-up to capture the subtle movement. “I’m not your bro. Full offense.”
Josh blinked, shocked that anyone would talk to him like that. He was used to the protection he got from his dad being the principal. His chest puffed in response. “Okay, now I get why you don’t have any friends.”
Reid smirked. “Now I get why Clara wants nothing to do with you. Look at us both learning.”
Josh’s cheeks went red all at once. “What’s your problem—”
“You lost, Joshua?” Delaney asked, appearing at my side.
She linked an arm with mine and faced Josh with that cold stare of hers.
She was tiny, but her ballet physique made her rock-solid.
Still, she looked too pale after that run, and I wondered if the fact that she’d eaten only a few french fries off my plate before practice was the reason.
Josh wandered off muttering to himself. Knowing him, this whole thing was far from over. I just didn’t know why.
“Byeee,” Delaney muttered. She unlinked our arms and faced me and Reid. Her eyes bounced between us. Our wet hair and clothes. A suggestive smile spread on her face. “You two have fun?”
I could’ve killed her.
“I did,” Reid said, sliding me a small smile. Sweet Jesus.
“I still have to stretch,” I responded, just to change the subject. And for something to do with my hands and attention and racing pulse. When I finished, I pulled out my camera from my bag and panned the scene. The more footage I got, the better.
When I caught Reid in frame, his eyebrows sprang up.
“For the yearbook video,” I rushed to say. “Just ignore me.”
He narrowed his eyes, teasing. “Pretty sure that’s impossible.”
My flush was instant.
“Are you going to Kenji’s party this weekend?” Delaney asked Reid, I’m sure for my benefit.
Kenji was always having a party. Not that I was eager to attend another one anytime soon, but if Reid went … Our gazes clashed above my camera, and I darted mine back to the screen.
“Um, maybe.” He flicked his gaze toward his dad. “I don’t go out a lot. I’m on a pretty tight training schedule.”
I lowered my voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “If it helps, Kenji’s is a strictly eel-free environment.”
He appraised me with something like amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure. They’re sneaky fuckers.”
I laughed, and that smile took over his face again. The first I caught on camera.
The first time I caught a beginning.