Chapter 12 Most Athletic
MOST ATHLETIC
I yawn for what feels like the millionth time as I step off the bus at Trinity Park for our cross country meet.
Other schools have already arrived and are gathered in small groups in the large grassy field of this meet’s location.
The sun is just peeking through on the horizon, and the pleasant briskness in the air will disappear once it’s completely risen.
“You gonna make it?” Jonathan asks as he steps off behind me. “You were yawning the entire ride over.”
I nod as I pull one of my arms across my chest to stretch.
My body aches from a sleepless night of tossing and turning in bed plus the hour-long bus ride to get here.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the sense of grogginess that has settled deep in my muscles.
Will I cross the finish line this morning?
Of course, but I won’t be setting any PRs, that’s for sure.
“You sure you’re okay?” Sarah asks. “It would be a shame for you to fail spectacularly at the senior meet.”
I groan because she’s right. That would suck.
Most high school sports have senior night, an evening dedicated to all the athletes about to graduate.
Students walk across the court or the field with their parents as someone announces their accomplishments.
Cross country? Since our races are at seven in the morning, we get a meet that no classmates attend and call it a day.
Not that the parents don’t try to make it special.
I can already smell the savory aroma of bacon coming from Citrus Prep’s pop-up canopy tent.
My mouth waters as I think about what’s inside.
I can’t see the feast—thanks to large canvas banners hanging from the sides of the tent, each with a picture of a different senior—but I can already picture all the food.
Several parents came out early this morning with a giant electric griddle to make breakfast for everyone.
Bacon, sausage, pancakes, scrambled eggs.
The team won’t eat any of that before we run. It’s too heavy. We’ll stick to bananas and protein goo that claims it will give you a burst of energy before the race. We get the good stuff when we’re done.
“There you are,” David says, appearing from behind one of the giant canvas prints. There’s a piece of bacon in his hand. I eye it enviously as he takes a bite. He stares at me as he chews. “You look terrible.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mumble and run a hand over my hair. I barely brushed my teeth this morning and didn’t look in the mirror to see how bad my bedhead was before putting on my uniform. I just raced to school praying the bus didn’t leave me behind.
“You look like you’re full of energy,” Jonathan says to David as he comes up beside me. “Whatever stimulants you’re on, please share with your brother.”
David laughs. “No stimulants. Not even coffee. Don’t need them.”
“That’s too bad. Connor could use them,” Jonathan says before spotting his parents and going over to greet them. Sarah does the same, and soon, it’s just me and David.
He cocks his head. “Seriously, you look exhausted.”
My mouth twists into a sour expression. “So I’ve heard.”
“Did you pull an all-nighter?”
Yes, but not intentionally. I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t turn my brain off no matter how hard I tried.
A squeal, one I instantly recognize as Ella’s, rings through the air.
How fitting that the reason I didn’t sleep would choose this moment to make her presence known.
I sigh as I think of all the racing thoughts I couldn’t calm.
I kept thinking about Hardy’s party and how pretty she looked that night and how she helped me with my shirt.
And then what happened at MASE. Convincing my dad to pay for the peach catastrophe wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
I’m still not sure why I volunteered him.
I’ve been replaying that day in my mind ever since.
I can’t stop thinking about Ella. She’s gotten under my skin in a way that I don’t understand. She’s my biggest rival, yet the more I interact with her, the more she consumes my thoughts.
She runs over to Lily and Hardy. I didn’t see them when we first walked up, but they’re standing by Ella’s canvas picture with bright pink posters covered in obscene amounts of glitter.
Lily’s says “Worst Parade Ever” and has a drawing of a large thumbs-down. Hardy is holding one with question marks all over it with the words, “Where Is Everyone Going?” in big block letters.
“You came,” Ella screams, pulling Lily close. They do a little hug/dance thing making more high-pitched noises the whole time. The entire display is over the top and extremely obnoxious. I turn back to David.
His eyes narrow at me. “What was that about?”
“What was what about?”
He jerks his chin toward Ella. “You watching Ella like that.”
I force myself to chuckle and muster up the best condescending tone I can manage. “Well, you see, there’s this thing called Citrus Scholar. Maybe you’ve heard of it. Ella and I have been competing against each other for years.”
David continues to stare at me.
“I was watching her because she’s my competition, and I’m looking for weakness.” My voice still has the same tone, but even I can hear the lack of confidence in it.
David looks like he wants to say more, but Coach Trish is calling everyone over.
I smile at him before joining my teammates.
We got to the park later than usual, and we don’t have much time before the race starts.
Coach gives us a quick pep talk before having us line up.
Most races separate the boys and girls varsity teams into two different races, but this course has us going at the same time.
It means there will be a bottleneck at the beginning of the race this morning.
“I know you said you’re fine, but you’re obviously exhausted,” Jonathan says as we get in position. “Can I take your spot in the front just this once?”
My first instinct is to say no. I’ve worked hard to be the top runner for Citrus Prep, but Jonathan is also a senior.
He works really hard, and I know it would mean so much to him to get to be in the number one position today.
Not only did his parents come out but so did uncles and aunts and cousins.
He’s got a cheering section that rivals our normal turnout for cross country.
Since I already know I won’t be running my best today, I nod. “Go for it.”
“Thanks, man.” He beams as he takes the spot in front of me. I catch Sarah’s eye, and she smiles approvingly at me. At least someone appreciates it. If my parents saw what I did, they wouldn’t be as happy.
I still feel the heavy weight of drowsiness dragging me down as we wait for the race to start.
I jog in place for a second and raise my arms above my head to get the blood flowing.
My shirt waves wildly with the movement, and I don’t think much about it until my eyes land on Ella.
She’s staring at the exposed sliver of skin on my stomach.
I stop jogging immediately, and when I do, her gaze lifts to find mine.
Her eyes widen before snapping to the ground, but I can still see the light blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t look back in my direction, but I know she’s shaken. It feels good to put her off-balance if she’s keeping me up all night. I smile knowing I have an effect on her, too.
Then the gun goes off signaling the start of the race.
I don’t PR, but it’s not my worst race time either. The course was easy—no sand, no hills, just nice grassy paths. I still beat Jonathan despite his split-second head start, and now I stand near the end of the course to encourage the rest of the runners as they cross the finish line.
One-by-one, my teammates finish the race and join the cheering section.
We clap and yell as the boys’ team finishes first with Sarah on their tails.
Then the rest of the girls trickle in. Everyone else from Citrus Prep has finished when Ella finally turns the corner and appears in the final stretch.
She’s still running, though her pace is barely faster than walking. Small pieces of hair stick to her face with the sweat that drips from her face. Her expression is one of pure determination until she spots Hardy and Lily with their signs. She grins and, with renewed fervor, picks up the pace.
Lily and Hardy scream like she’s the first runner they’ve seen.
They wave their signs wildly, sending glitter flying through the air.
When Ella finishes, they run over to her and hug her once more.
Now that everyone is done, we can go back to the tent together.
We grab well-earned plates piled with food as Coach drones on about how hard we’ve all worked and how proud she is of the seniors.
I’m only half listening as I eat a piece of cold bacon.
I’m looking around at everyone on the team.
Proud moms and dads stand behind their children, seniors, and underclassmen alike.
When I get to Ella, I notice that her parents aren’t here.
Her dad is in prison, so I understand why he couldn’t make it, but I don’t see her mom either.
Just Lily and Hardy who linger nearby as surrogates, their fingers intertwined as they hold hands.
If they hadn’t come, she wouldn’t have had any family to cheer her on at the senior meet. That’s why Ella was so excited to see them. A small ache forms in my chest, and I use the heel of my palm to rub it away.
Then Ella smiles at me, and a different sensation replaces the ache. My stomach does a somersault, and without thinking, I smile back.
When Coach is done with her speech, I walk in Ella’s direction.
Her eyes don’t leave mine as I close the distance between us.
I don’t know what I’m doing. She’s the only person who stands between me and Citrus Scholar, and we’re not even friends, but I can’t stop my feet.
I tell myself it’s because I feel bad that her parents aren’t here, but I’m afraid there might be something more to it.
I barely register the look that passes between Hardy and Lily before they walk toward the tent.
“Hey,” I say.
She bites her bottom lip. “Hey.”
“You did a great job today.”
She looks down at her feet. “No, I didn’t. I finished last for Citrus Prep."
“But you finished. You should be proud of how hard you worked this year.”
She stares at me with wide eyes.
I’m just as confused as she is, but my mouth keeps going. “Seriously. It’s not easy coming onto a team that’s been running together for a long time. You were the only person who didn't have any experience, and you stuck with it.”
“That means a lot coming from you. Thanks.”
I’m slightly offended by her words and put a hand to my chest. “I’m not a monster, you know.”
The corners of her mouth lift into a ghost of a smile. “I know.”
I squirm as she smiles up at me. The compliments, the niceties. This is the most civil we’ve been in years, and it feels wrong. As Ella stares at me expectantly, I realize it’s my turn to say something, but my brain goes blank. What am I supposed to say?
Such great weather we’re having.
How ‘bout them Bolts?
Who am I? Some middle-aged guy standing around the water cooler at the office?
A bead of sweat runs down my temple as Ella continues to wait.
I lift my hand to wipe it away, but another thought occurs to me.
I reach for the bottom of my shirt instead and use it to wipe my face.
When I release the fabric, Ella’s eyes are closed.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Trying not to look at you.”
“Why, afraid you’ll like what you see?”
“Afraid the breakfast I just ate will come back up, and then I’ll never be able to eat eggs again.” It’s a familiar tune, but her tone is softer than it’s ever been when singing it.
I wait a moment and, even though my shirt is still lifted, I say, “Okay, fine.”
She opens her eyes, and immediately shuts them again. “Ahh.” She waves her hands out in front of her and blindly smacks at me. “Put your clothes on.”
I chuckle. “It’s okay to admit you enjoy the view.”
“Not a chance.” Her eyes are still closed as she gropes for my arms. She forces them down at my sides.
When she’s satisfied that I’m no longer lifting my shirt, she slowly peels her eyes open again.
Ella looks to my stomach, then to my face.
Is there a twinge of disappointment in her expression? Or do I only wish there was?
Then Ella laughs, a joyful sound that warms me to my bones. “You’re disgusting.”
“I don’t think that’s really what you think.”
A slight blush hits her cheeks, and she shakes her head. “You really love yourself, don’t you?”
I waggle my brows. “What’s not to love?”
She shrugs. “I can think of a few things. We can start with your arrogance.”
I lean in. She doesn't back away. There’s a challenge in her eyes, and it spurs me on. “It’s only arrogance if it's not true.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Are you sure?” I flash a dazzling smile at her.
She laughs again and pushes me away. “You’re trouble, did you know that?”
Her hand is still touching my chest when I say, “Yeah, but I think you like it.”
The words are out before I can take them back. Both of our smiles drop, and Ella pulls her hand back.
“I…uh, should go find Hardy and Lily.” She hitches her thumb over her shoulder.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Of course.”
Ella disappears behind one of the canvas pictures. There’s a slight tremor in my hands, and I occupy them by tucking my shirt back into my shorts.
What is happening?