Chapter 5
MOST DESPERATE
It’s been a couple of weeks since Dr. Freck’s announcement, and little has changed. I’ve been busy trying to make sure I’m staying on top of my assignments until I figure out what exactly I’m supposed to do to be a well-rounded student.
Generally speaking, I know what it means. In addition to having good grades, I should be athletic and artistic. Unfortunately, I’m neither of those things. In no universe will I be making any of our school’s championship sports teams, and it’s a little late for me to start reading sheet music now.
“Have you considered joining cross country?” Lily asks as we walk to Calculus.
She’s been helping me brainstorm which is both wonderful and overwhelming at the same time.
I think she’s going through the yearbook at this point and suggesting anything that exists.
She’s attempted to get me to join chess club, creative writing club, even conspiracy club.
None have felt right. They’re all fine, but none of them scream ‘I’m the best Citrus Prep has to offer. ’
Cross country feels like a new low, even compared to the students who think Bigfoot is real and Antarctica has a secret ice wall guarding all the government's secrets.
“Are you seriously asking if I’ve considered running? For fun?” I snort.
“Why not?”
“Let’s see.” I tap my chin with my finger. “Maybe because the most running I’ve done lately is when I ran to Dr. Freck’s on the first day of school. And that was more of a speed walk.”
“I don’t think you have to be any good.” She opens the door that leads to the stairwell and we walk inside. “It sounds like they lost a lot of their top runners last year when half the team graduated. Coach Trish is practically begging people to join.”
Our class is on the third floor, and we’re only halfway there when my legs start burning. “Even out-of-shape seniors? I can’t imagine I’m the type of person the coach is looking for. Besides, hasn’t the season already started?”
“It has, but they still need a few more runners to get a full roster.” She pokes my arm. “And you need something athletic.”
I’m slightly out of breath when we reach the top of the stairs. The only way I’d make it onto the team is if Coach Trish is as desperate as Lily says she is. And cross country might be my only option for ticking the athletic box. I think about Connor and his many years of varsity sports.
“Wait,” I say slowly as realization hits me. A knot forms in my stomach. “Doesn’t Connor run cross country?"
Lily opens her locker and hides behind the door. She mumbles something unintelligible.
I close it so I can see her face. “What was that?”
“I know it’s not your first choice.”
Getting dental work without anesthesia sounds more appealing at this point. I cross my arms over my chest. “More like it’s my last choice.”
Lily’s expression hardens. “Actually, you don’t have a choice. Are you going to play soccer? Basketball? Tennis?” Each sport she lists is highly competitive. Lots of talented girls get cut during tryouts every year, and they each require a certain level of skill.
Lily reopens her locker to grab her book. “What if I promise to come cheer you on at the meets?”
I pout, but deep down, I know I’m acting ungrateful.
I should be thankful that Lily is such a good friend.
She stood by me when I became the social pariah at school after what my dad did to the Williams family.
Now, not only is she helping me think of ways to beat Connor, she’s offering to go above and beyond.
“You’d be willing to wake up early to watch me come in last? ”
“Somebody has to do it.”
If Lily says she’ll come, I know she will. Thank goodness for that. An ache forms in my chest knowing she would be the only person to show up to specifically cheer for me.
My dad is still incarcerated after stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars from the company he worked for.
Who knew our two-story home in the fancy part of town or our overseas vacations were funded by grand larceny?
Apparently, no one besides my father until he got caught a couple of years ago.
He ruined our lives, but doesn’t seem to realize it based on the sappy letters he sends every month.
They’re filled with his favorite memories and a longing for making new ones when he gets out.
I read every single one but never respond.
After he went to prison, and we lost it all, my mom went her own brand of crazy.
She’s too preoccupied with anything else to pay attention to me.
Her current obsession? A younger guy who is closer in age to me than her.
He’s at our apartment almost every night eating dinners my mom never cooked when it was just me at home. I can’t stand him.
“I’m sorry,” Lily says. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” I say, closing my locker shut with more force than necessary. The noise echoes through the hallway.
Lily doesn't argue as we walk down the hall. She knows the situation better than anyone and has seen me shed enough tears to know that I’m lying.
That I am upset. That I hate the entire situation and wish that I was born into any other family than the one I’m in.
During the first few months after my dad’s arrest, I practically begged her to let me live with her, but her family didn’t think it was such a good idea.
I think they didn’t want my family’s bad influence to rub off on their daughter anymore than it already had.
Right before we enter math class, she stops me. “This is the last thing I’ll say about it. But if you join cross country, I promise to bring a sign worthy of the Boston Marathon to your meets.”
“With glitter?” I ask.
“Obviously.”
Math goes by quickly—literally. Mr. Smith goes as fast as everyone says.
If grades were as important as I thought they were when school started, I might consider asking for after school help, but as it stands, I should be able to squeak by with an A as long as I don’t let myself fall behind on any of my homework.
I push through the rest of my morning classes, eager to get to lunch.
Since seniors get dismissed five minutes early, the cafeteria is relatively empty as I walk in.
I spot Coach Trish right away, wearing her signature tracksuit with her brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.
She’s not only the cross country coach but also teaches PE, so she is one of the only teachers at Citrus Prep who gets to dress like this.
She walks the perimeter of the cafeteria saying hello to students as they trickle in.
“Coach Trish?” I catch her in between greetings. “Do you have a second?”
I’ve only had her for one class, P.E. my freshman year, and I was terrible, so I wouldn’t say I’m particularly close to her. That doesn’t stop the concern from filling her features. “Is everything okay?” She ushers me toward one of the walls away from the tables.
“I’m fine.” I nod. “I was just wondering what I would need to do to join the”—I clear my throat—“the cross country team.”
Her head jerks back in a mixture of shock and relief. “You want to join cross country?”
“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are.”
“I’d ask why the change of heart”—a sly smile touches her lips—”but I think I might know why you have a sudden desire to join. Is it because you think it’ll be good for your chances for Citrus Scholar?”
I feel a blush creep up my neck. That’s exactly why I’m doing it, but I was hoping it wasn’t quite so obvious. “Lily told me you were desperate for runners and would take anyone at this point,” I blurt out.
Coach Trish’s smile makes the outside corners of her eyes crinkle in humor. “She’s not wrong. I’m down to five runners, and if anyone gets sick, we can’t compete.”
“Well, I’m not actually a runner. More of a speed walker.” My fingers play with the bottom hem of my shirt, a white polo with the school’s logo embroidered on the top left.
She tilts her head to the side. “Are you willing to try?”
I nod.
“Good. Practice starts right after school. We meet at the football field for warmups and stretching. See you there.”
She doesn’t mean… “Today?”
“Yes. We need to get you running as son as possible.”
I grimace. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I have some PE uniforms in my office.”
“What about my shoes?” I’m wearing a pair of sneakers that are comfortable, but they aren’t running shoes by any stretch of the imagination.
She looks down at my feet. “Those will work for today, since I don’t expect you to be running a long distance. But yes, you will need to get a good pair by the end of the week.”
My stomach roils. How much are proper running shoes going to cost?
I calculate how much I can spare from my bank account since I know my mom won’t be able to help.
Suddenly, I feel like I’m making a huge mistake.
Not only am I wildly out of shape but completely unprepared.
It was stupid to approach Coach. I fumble for an excuse so I can walk away and pretend this exchange never happened. I wrap my arms around myself. “Uh…”
“Come give me your best effort, and I’ll give Dr. Freck your name as my recommendation for Citrus Scholar.”
Wait. Is she one of the members of Dr. Freck’s super-secret board? She has to be. Why else would she say that? My heart leaps in my chest. “You will?”
She nods and sticks out her hand for me to shake. I unwrap my arms and put my hand in hers. “Welcome to the team.”
“Thank you?”
“Thank you,” she says. “See you this afternoon.”
The cafeteria is much more crowded than it was when I first got here.
I weave through the large room, careful not to bump into anyone as I walk toward my lunch table.
I plop down in the empty seat Lily saved for me but don’t face her right away.
My gaze is unfocused as it stays trained on the far wall.
Did I just commit to running cross country?
I’m going to be a runner.
She pops a tater tot in her mouth. “How’d it go?”
“I have practice today,” I say, slightly dazed from what just happened.
Lily laughs. When my head snaps in her direction, she covers her mouth with her hand and pretends that she was coughing.
My eyes widen. “You’re the one who told me to join!”
She presses her lips together to fight the smile on her lips. “I know.” She clears her throat a few times and finally gets control of her features. “I didn't think you’d actually do it.”
“Lily!”
“No, it’s good. I’m proud of you.” The smile starts to return.
I steal one of her tater tots. I know I should eat something, considering I just agreed to run cross country, but my stomach turns almost immediately. “Coach Trish said she would give me her recommendation to be Citrus Scholar if I joined the team.”
“She does know you’ve never run before, right?”
I steal another tot but throw it at her this time. When I miss, she giggles. “She just said I needed to give it my best effort.”
Hardy shakes his head as he walks up. “Can’t take you anywhere.” He sits down in the seat next to Lily. Even though he has his own tray piled high with food, Hardy steals one of Lily’s tater tots and winks at her as he pops it in his mouth.
“Hey!” Lily smacks him. “That’s my lunch.”
“Really?” He tears the plastic wrap off his plastic fork and loads a bite of spaghetti on it. “I assumed you were done since Ella was throwing some at you when I walked up.”
“It was one tater tot,” I correct. “And only because Lily was making fun of me.”
“For what?” he asks around a huge bite.
I look at the table. “For running.”
Hardy chokes on his food. He sets his fork down and looks at me with wide eyes. “You’re running?”
“On the cross country team,” Lily adds with mischievous glee.
“Seriously?” Hardy asks.
“Don’t sound so shocked.” I lean back in my plastic chair. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to win any awards or anything.”
“That’s going to be a first for you, isn’t it?” Hardy asks. He’s resumed eating and takes another bite before adding, “Are you going to be okay?”
I roll my eyes. “You act like I’ve never not been the best at something before. I know what it’s like to fail.”
Lily and Hardy stare at me with blank expressions.
“I do. I lost to Connor for class president.” That one is the most recent and still feels raw. I pause as I think of other times when I didn't succeed in what I attempted. “And…spelling bee in fifth grade.” I lost to Connor in that, too.
Lily pushed her lips into a perfectly round circle. “Oh, no. Not the fifth grade spelling bee.”
I reach over and throw another tater tot at her.
Hardy makes an annoyed sound. “At least I ate the food I stole off your tray.”
Lily reaches out and touches his arm. “You poor thing.”
“I know.” Before she can pull her hand away, he lifts that same arm and flexes. “I’m a growing boy. I need the calories.”
A slight blush hits her cheeks. She drops her hand and slides the food in his direction.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not that hungry.” She shrugs. “I was only saving them because I thought Ella might want them.” She gives me a playful smile. “But since she insists on being wasteful.”
“Her loss.” Hardy smirks at me before eating a couple. “So when do you start cross country?”
“Today.”
“Okay, so here are my words of advice.” He wipes his fingers on the napkin in front of him, drawing this out, enjoying for once that he knows more about a subject than me.
After he clears his throat twice and Lily punches his shoulder, he finally blesses me with his advice.
“Buy some Advil now. You’re going to need it. ”
The tots in my stomach threaten to make a reappearance as I drop my head onto the table. What did I get myself into?