Chapter Thirty-Two Max #2
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Dr. Goff after a stretching silence.
Keely cleared her throat, and Max saw her bottom lip wobble.
“We know,” Max said, his voice a lot surer than his heart was. “I just don’t think either of us realized the scope of it until now.” That was putting it lightly, and Dr. Goff was missing key details.
Keely nodded and gave him a smile she didn’t mean. “Exactly.”
“There are more important things than scholarships.” Dr. Goff’s gaze flicked between them. “You know, I didn’t graduate with my master’s until I was forty?”
Max couldn’t wait until he was forty to start chasing his dreams.
Keely shifted in her chair, likely thinking the same thing. “What were you doing instead?” she murmured.
“Living. You’ve probably heard the saying ‘life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans’?
” When they nodded, she gave them a sad smile.
“I like to say that life happens in the space between seconds. Little choices, from one instant to the next, that fill in the gaps of who we’re supposed to be.
You’re allowed to change your mind. To change course or reroute completely. I took a few detours on my way here.”
Beside him, Keely was barely breathing. He wanted so badly to reach out for her, to hold her and convince her everything would work out the way it was supposed to. He didn’t know that, though, and Keely didn’t deserve uncertainty from him.
He swallowed around the glass in his throat and got to his feet, mumbling a weak excuse about practice.
“I should head to the lab, too.” Keely shouldered her backpack and thanked their counselor for the both of them.
In the hallway, Keely stepped over the same student as before, who had now fallen asleep.
“It’s going to be fine,” she mumbled. “Right?”
He ran his index finger along the back of her hand. “Right.”
“Text me later?” she said. Her voice shook a little, though, and Max tried to convince himself it was the lingering effects of her allergies.
He nodded, drawing her in for a hug. “Of course.”
After Keely had left, he stared at the concrete wall. There had to be a way out of this mess. Maybe they could split the award, or there was a second-place prize that would be enough to tide him over. Dr. Goff would probably know.
He spun back toward her office to ask when he heard someone say Keely’s name—talking about her, not to her. Max’s muscles seized, locking him in place. He peeked around the corner. It was that Sam guy, from the party. Keely’s friend.
“. . .barely seen her in months. She’s spending all her time with that jock,” Sam continued, a bitterness in his tone.
“But I don’t see it ending well.” Max’s skin pulsed with the need for oxygen.
He didn’t dare breathe. “How could it? Both of them can’t win, and it’s going to cost someone their future. ”
It wasn’t anything Max didn’t already know, but hearing it from someone else made the reality of his situation come crashing down onto his shoulders. If there was a solution to this mess, he couldn’t see it right now.
· · · · ·
Max made an honest man of himself, heading to the track for a few off-the-clock sprints before his relay team showed up.
His mind wouldn’t calm. If it wasn’t on his dad, it was racing over his conversation with Dr. Goff, and if not there, then on his scholarship application.
Was it the best it could be? Did he have it in him to pull out better grades for finals?
He didn’t have much more to give, and the only person he would’ve asked to help him was his direct competition.
Practice went worse than his solo sessions.
He tripped off the block in more than one of his heats, and he dropped the baton in the relay.
That overheard conversation didn’t help, either.
Now he had Sam’s and Dr. Goff’s words echoing in his head.
Whoever loses won’t lose for lack of effort.
. . There is only one place left. . . It’s going to cost someone their future.
Above it all, he heard his own breath, sawing out of him at an irregular pace.
Focus. Watch your instep—too much. Don’t supinate. Steady breaths.
Both of them can’t win.
Whoever loses. . .
His lungs constricted, and he locked it down. Focus. Don’t hyperventilate like Keely—
His ankle rolled, and while he was able to run it off, Coach still ripped his hat from his head and curled the bill in his fist. “Simmons! Get it together, dammit. Have a trainer look at that.”
Max collapsed onto a bench, and a student trainer rushed over with their full kit. Jazz, Alex, and Nolan murmured to themselves from the sidelines, staying limber and stretching while they waited for the verdict.
This is what happened at Olympic trials, wasn’t it? He’d been in his head, replaying everything wrong until nothing went right. Ruminating on his mistakes had cost him—and his dad—the trials. He couldn’t afford to do that again.
“I’m fine,” Max barked, and the trainer reared back. “Sorry,” he tacked on, softening his tone.
Whoever loses. . .
As the trainer wrapped his ankle out of an abundance of caution, Max’s brain replayed the memory, over and over until his own name filled in the gaps.
When Max loses. . .
When Max lost, so would his dad.
And that wasn’t an option.
The wrap threw off his times for the rest of the hour. Back in the locker room, head low and shoulders tight, he checked his phone.
Keely
Did you still want to work hard tonight?
Keely
On your studying, I mean! We don’t have to go all night long
Max
I’m not sure that worked out well for us last time tbh
Max
Or it worked too well
He tapped the side of his phone. He should stay here, work on his time splits and do some extra stretching with his ankle to make sure it didn’t become a bigger issue. By the time he started on his homework, it’d be too late to hang out with her.
If getting in his head about Dad had cost him the Olympics, what would Keely cost him? The scholarship?
More?
Biting the inside of his cheek, he typed a response.
Max
I think I should study alone tonight. You’re too pretty. It’s distracting.
The bubbles appeared and vanished a few times each.
Keely
I can behave
But could he? Guilt gnawed at the corners of his empty stomach. He couldn’t afford to screw this up again. He was running out of do overs.
Max
Maybe tomorrow?
After another thirty minutes of sprints, he checked his phone again.
Keely
Okay. I have to rerun an assay tonight for my thesis, so I’ll be at the lab until late, if you change your mind
He already knew he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t afford to.