10. Isaiah
Isaiah
January, Hatfield
The drive to Hatfield only took a couple of hours.
Traffic was light, and the group of them travelling to the race had been surprisingly organised, so the minibus had set off with no more than a ten-minute delay.
Isaiah felt ready. He’d refreshed his hair colour the night before, keeping the green because it reminded him of the feeling of having family again, and he’d even painted his nails with tiny running icons with Amara.
It had taken a lot longer than either of them had expected, the TikTok tutorial she’d found having tricked them into thinking it would be easy.
Jacob sat with him, Malek having set off at an ungodly hour to warm up and scope out the course. He bumped Isaiah’s knee reassuringly, snapping him out of those thoughts. They took a quick selfie then shared it in their group chat with Malek and Amara. Mal liked it immediately.
Isaiah
Feeling good, Mal?
Malek
Always. Just warming up
Jacob
You’ve got this babe. I’ll come find you as soon as we arrive.
Isaiah
Meet up after the race?
Malek
Deffo
Amara
Good luck boyssssss
Jacob continued to tap away on his phone, likely hyping his boyfriend up for his race.
Isaiah leaned his head against the window, phone still in hand.
He tilted the screen away from Jake and opened the hidden app for his camming channel.
Despite Amara assuring him they all knew and didn’t care about his little side hustle, what he was about to do felt clandestine.
He opened his DMs, reading through the thread with Flash, who had also wished him luck for the run.
“What’s that dopey grin for?” Jacob asked, shocking Isaiah out of the little bubble he’d let himself fall into.
“Nothing. Just…you know, some nice good luck messages.”
“Are you flirting with someone?” Jacob asked, looking scandalised as Isaiah typed out a response to Flash’s sweet message.
“Of course not,” he replied. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m on a very strict man ban.”
“Sure you are.” Jake rolled his eyes.
Isaiah grunted back and rested his head against the window for the rest of the ride. His fingers twitched around his phone, but he shut his eyes and tried to relax.
Once they managed to get the minibus parked and had all clambered off with their gear, the group fanned out.
Jacob went to wish Malek luck and find a spot to watch from, and the others all had their own rituals pre-race.
Isaiah’s mostly consisted of taking a piss and getting a gel down him.
He’d been talked into the salted caramel flavoured ones by Elliot recently and had developed a bit of an addiction.
He’d eat them as daily snacks if that wouldn’t be absurdly expensive.
The starting line was buzzing. Music blasted as runners jostled for position in the main corral. By the time Isaiah was ready, Malek would have already started racing, up front with the elite runners who had a slightly earlier start time to make sure the course was clear.
Isaiah grinned at his teammates as they shuffled forward. The atmosphere was infectious, and he could already feel the adrenaline coursing through him. When they finally managed to inch their way over the start line, he broke into a run.
Three miles in, Isaiah was feeling great.
It wasn’t a long race, so he wanted to really let it rip and prove that even if he wasn’t a pro, he was a goddamn credit to the Owens family name.
A credit to Uncle Carl’s and to Elliot’s name, that was—his own fucking dad could kick rocks.
His feet toed off lightly as he flew around the course.
He wanted a sub-forty today, though secretly he had a more ambitious goal in his head.
The finish line was finally in sight, but Isaiah was really starting to feel the pain in his muscles.
He could push now, probably hit that lofty goal, but he knew he’d be paying for it if he did.
He thought of Flash, and the gentle concern in his voice when Isaiah had told him about the pressure he felt to do well, and he pulled back.
He wondered for a moment what decision Green would have made in this scenario, thought on the pressure he’d admitted to feeling, and to what may have driven him. But to Isaiah, it was an obvious choice. Nothing about this race was going to determine his future; it wasn’t worth an injury.41
He crossed the finish line with a gun time of thirty-nine minutes and was immediately met by his uncle. He gathered his medal and T-shirt as Carl spoke.
“That was a great showing, Isaiah,” he said. “You know, with a bit more focus, you could really go far in athletics.”
Isaiah laughed. “I think I’ve got more than enough to focus on with finishing my BPhil and figuring out my doctoral thesis topic. Besides, we’ve got more than enough professional runners in this family.”
Carl nodded his assent, slapping him on the back. “Still, great work out there.”
“Speaking of work.” Isaiah lowered his voice. “Have you heard anything?”
Carl shook his head. “I expected to hear by now, to be honest. It could be any day now.”
Isaiah sighed. He wanted the next email he had for Green to be good news.
Professional, straightforward good news.
Not whatever the nonsense their last exchange had devolved into.
He knew he’d been callous, shooting down Green’s apology, but he hadn’t known what to do with the strange emotions it had brought up in him.
“Go celebrate with your friends. Malek was incredible today; I’m sure I’ll be fielding calls about him all week.” Carl grinned, and Isaiah warmed at the thought of his friend’s success.
“Want me to pop into the office for a bit this week?” he asked. “I’m free all day Thursday and could jump on the train Wednesday evening.”
“That’d be great. If we haven’t heard anything about Green by then, you can help review Malek’s thousands of sponsorship offers with me.” Carl smiled.
Isaiah left his uncle, heart full of joy for his friend, and made a beeline for the elite recovery tent where he’d agreed to meet Jacob and Mal. A text came through as he walked, his chip time. Isaiah grinned. 37:18—not half bad.
He stood outside, waiting for Jacob to reply to his text, but a notification in his camming app distracted him.
A message from Flash.
Flash23
Hope you had a good race <3
Free at all this week?
A dopey grin spread across Isaiah’s face, and he wasn’t even too embarrassed by it.
Quick
Tomorrow? I’m celebrating with friends tonight
Dots appeared on the screen, showing Flash was typing a reply almost immediately.
Flash23
I promised my friends I’d actually leave the house tomorrow :( I could cancel…
Quick
How about Tuesday then? I’ve got a live on Monday so…
Flash23
Sounds perfect
Celebrating? I take it the race went well
Quick
It did! Didn’t quite hit my goal, but came really close, and my best friend absolutely killed it
Isaiah wished he could say more, express just how fucking proud of Malek he was, how proud of his own race he was, but he held it back.
Flash23
That’s amazing, baby. I’ll leave you to your celebrations.
See you Tuesday
Well, I’ll see you Monday too, but you know
Quick
See you Tuesday, Flash <3
Isaiah had just shoved his phone back into his pocket when Jacob appeared at his side.
“The bus is leaving soon, but I told Coach we’d find our own way back. That still the plan?”
“Definitely,” Isaiah replied. “I ran into my uncle earlier, and it sounds like Mal’s got a lot to celebrate.”
“Oh, he really does.” Jacob grinned.
“Tell me.” Isaiah was already smiling back.
Jacob’s grin stretched so wide it looked painful. “Course record.”
Isaiah’s brain short-circuited for a second. “Shut up.”
“I am incapable of shutting up, as a general rule,” Jacob said proudly. “But also: Course. Record.”
Malek came through the exit of the elite tent a second later, medal around his neck, jacket unzipped. He looked wrecked and radiant all at once, and like he really needed to get off his feet.
Isaiah didn’t even think, he just leapt at him, pulling him into a tight hug.
“You actual freak,” he said into Mal’s shoulder.
Mal laughed, breath warm against Isaiah’s neck. “I know.”
“You broke it?”
“By three seconds.”
Isaiah pulled back, hands still on his shoulders. “That’s disgusting.”
“Thank you.”
“Proud of you.”
“Cheers.” Mal glanced between them. “We celebrating or what?”
Jacob wrapped his arm around Mal, supporting his boyfriend as he steered him towards the car park. “Let’s head back to ours. I’m not sure if it was the run or the interviews after that wore him out, but Mal needs to sit down.”
“Don’t fuss.” Malek gave him a mock glare.
“I will fuss as much as I damn well please.”
They piled into the rental car Malek had used to get to the course at what Jacob had described as an ungodly hour, and Jake passed Mal a sports drink, which he drained in about three seconds flat.
“God, the suction.” Jacob sighed.
Isaiah rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he slid into the back seat. Malek had curled up in the passenger seat next to Jake, immediately slumping sideways against the window like a felled tree.
“You good?” Isaiah asked.
“’M fine,” Mal mumbled. “Just…post-race legs. And three different people asked me about my ‘fuelling strategy’ like that’s what made the difference.”
Jacob snorted from the driver’s seat. “Nothing to do with years of training. Or the fact that you’re, like, illegally aerodynamic.”
Malek laughed as they pulled out onto the road, but he was asleep against the window in five minutes.
Isaiah was drifting off too by the time Jacob pulled up in front of the building, dropping them off in front so Mal wouldn’t have to walk far before he went to find parking down the street.
It would have been a sweet gesture if he hadn’t forgotten he had the keys to their flat with him when he drove off.
When Jacob returned, Malek was slumped against the wall as Isaiah tried to put on a brave face and engage him in conversation, receiving mostly grunts or monosyllabic responses for his trouble.