Authors: Bria Quinlan
Chris scowled as we went by. Rachel’s advice echoed in my
head about his “need to have his ego stroked” and “lack of acceptance of second
best.” I had a gut-sick feeling that even though he dropped way before I did,
it was going to come back to haunt me.
“Not a bribe,”
Luke huffed. “Think of it this way, you get a ride, your friend gets a ride,
and I get to not be so sore I can’t move during tryouts tomorrow.”
“We’re just over six miles. I’m guessing this isn’t such a
tough run for you.”
“Nope.
This is a cake walk.” His
lips curled up on the right side. “But I’m thinking that you could keep this
going until the sun went down and everyone went home.”
“Well, I’m hoping Coach sticks around. I wouldn’t want him
to have to take my word for it that I kicked your butt.”
Luke’s laugh went right through my skin, tickling underneath
it in a weird, uncomfortable way.
“You know what, Amy? You take the spot. I need these legs
tomorrow to show your buddy what second place looks like. It’s his butt I’d
rather see flat in the grass anyway.”
With that, Luke dropped behind me, slowing to a walk, his
arms braced backward on his hips as he caught his breath. In the distance, the
whistle sounded again and Coach shouted at the guys to circle up. More than
half the team remained.
In the growing dusk, I prayed for two things as I braced
myself against the chain link fence and stretched.
One, that
the extra run yesterday on top of the race today wouldn’t leave me too tight to
get out of bed in the morning.
And two, that Coach wouldn’t
draw more attention to me and tick any of the guys off further.
I did my best to concentrate on my invisibility gene.
Hopefully, now wasn’t the time it would go latent.
“You made a good showing today, men. The bottom ten, see
Stafford in the morning. He may want to keep you around for JV.” He snapped his
binder shut and tucked it under his arm. “That is all.”
Everyone made it to their feet and lumbered up the hill
toward the school. I tried not to groan as I headed toward the field to lug in
my binders and the table.
“
Cafry
!
Johnson!” Coach shouted at two legacy freshman as he passed me. “Bring in
Whalen’s stuff and put the table in the locker room.”
I sincerely thanked him. My legs sincerely thanked him.
Coach
Sarche
stopped and faced me.
“I meant what I said, Whalen. Whatever reason you have for being here can’t be
a good one. But you’re part of my team. If you hadn’t been before, you
certainly earned your spot tonight.”
“Thanks, Coach.” I knew he wanted me back on the
cross-country team—that competing on a team was the only thing he
understood—but he’d never been a teenage girl stuck outside a snooty running
clique.
With a gruff nod, he climbed the hill to the back door.
I waited at the stats’ locker for the freshman to tote the
stuff in so I could stash it. Pulling my backpack out, I heard a heavy tread
fall silent behind me.
“Hey.”
“Seriously?”
I asked without
turning around.
“Seriously what?”
When I glanced up, Luke stood behind me, confusion etching
his brow just below the brown flop of hair that swept toward his eyes.
“
Seriously,
you
start every conversation with ‘hey.’ Don’t you have another segue into small
talk?”
Luke brought out that smirk—the one that was beginning to
rub me the wrong way. “Why mess with something that works?”
Cafry
sprinted in and skidded to a
halt beside my locker. Glancing from Luke to me, he held the binders out. His
cheeks heated and his gaze skittered away toward my feet.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling the binders from his grasp and
hoping both guys would just go away.
“That was great.
Tonight.
You winning and all.”
Freshman
Cafry
paused and looked up at Luke before finishing his sentence in an absurdly hushed
tone, “Amy.”
I froze, caught off guard by my own new notoriety. I wasn’t
overly tall, but this kid barely squeaked past me. His skinny frame made him
look very breakable standing next to Luke. I was suddenly happy we had a JV
team and a Red Squad for freshman who didn’t make either.
“Thanks,” I said again to fill the silence. “I’m glad it’s
over.”
Cafry
grinned and Luke jerked his
head toward the locker room sending the boy on his way.
“So, you ready to go?” Luke asked.
“Go where?”
“Home.
I figure there’s no way
you’re running after that.” Luke bent to grab my pack. “Plus, the race went
longer than normal and
it’s
way too dark out at this
point.”
“That’s alright, Parker.” Chris appeared on my other side,
sandwiching me between them. “I’ve got this one.”
Luke
stilled,
his grin slipping.
“It isn’t a problem. I’m heading that way.”
For a moment I thought Chris would let Luke take me home.
But he reached past me for my bag, giving it a tug and loosened it from Luke’s
grip.
“It wasn’t really a suggestion.” Chris slung the bag over
his shoulder and wrapped his arm around me, turning me away from Luke and the
lockers. Letting his hand rest on my lower back, he asked, “Ready, babe?”
I fought hard to keep the smile off my face, or at least to
make it less like something Rachel’s little sister would do if a Jonas Brother
walked into her kitchen.
“Sure.” I glanced over my shoulder at Luke. “Thanks anyway,
Luke. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chris gave me a little push through the door he held open.
“Nice run,” I shouted before it
fell
shut, leaving Chris and me alone for the first time in two weeks.
Chapter 9
The run had gone longer than I thought. The streetlights lit
the parking lot in a dim, polka dot fashion. I paused at the passenger’s door,
but Chris had already rounded the back, unlocking the driver’s side.
A shiver ricocheted over my skin as the cool evening air
seeped through my sweat-drenched clothes. I wished I’d known I’d be racing. A clean,
dry shirt would have been better than a foot rub. Chris started the car then
threw the lock switch on his side to let me in.
Slipping the seat belt home, I glanced to where Luke passed
in front of the car, his tall frame casting a streetlight shadow over the dash.
He stopped and watched Chris maneuver from the spot and then, with a shake of
his head, made his way to his truck.
“So, babe.
What was with that run
tonight?” Chris pulled out of the lot, glancing my way as he sped down the
first hill.
I tucked the seat belt under my arm so I could twist to face
him. The dashboard lit his face in an uneven pattern, the steering wheel
blocking the glow from his eyes so I couldn’t read his thoughts.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying not to sound pushy, ignoring
the inner-neediness that crept up on me every time he was near.
“I knew you ran and all. I mean, it isn’t your fault Coach
put you on the spot like that, but you didn’t have to win.
Ya
know?”
The August heat had nothing on the warmth radiating off my skin
at his words.
“Actually, Mike
Gerrard
put me on
the spot. And yes, I did have to win.
Especially when it came
down to just me and Luke.
There was no way I was letting him beat me.”
Chris’s brows lowered, shading his eye-soul-windows even
more.
“Parker’s a pain in the ass, but I mean, still.”
He wanted me to throw the race? Even to Luke?
“None of the other girls would have done that.” He
downshifted at the bottom of the hill. “Cheryl and Mandy wouldn’t have drawn it
out like that.”
I snorted. I considered snorting twice, actually. “Cheryl
and Mandy can’t run a sub-eighteen 5k.”
“Whatever.” Chris slowed the car as we bumped over the
wooden bridge. “What did Parker and you talk about during those last laps? Is
he still curious about the team?”
I thought over the last few days and realized Luke had never
asked me about the team. Not once. Not about the binders or Coach or tryouts or
the team or anything. Never did he do anything that may have been James Bond
Interrogation-Worthy. The only thing he’d been curious about was if I was
living in some fantasy world where Chris was a modern day knight in a shining
Acura.
Luke would never get that there was more to this than my
overactive imagination. I mean, he thought he was so smart and so Mr.
Know-it-all, but he just—
He just needed to get out of my head is what he needed to
do.
Shaking off the annoyed feeling I was beginning to associate
with Luke, I answered Chris’s question, trying to focus on how important these
tryouts were to him.
“No. He kind of shied away from talking about team stuff.
He probably—Chris!”
I watched Pebble Lane go by. “You passed
my drive.”
“What?” Chris looked over his shoulder. “I thought you lived
in some house down here?”
“I do. Back there.” I pointed behind us toward my little
dirt road.
“Crap. Is there a place to turn around up here?”
All that surrounded us were the teetering corn stalks on one
side and the dark wall of the forest on the other.
“This dead ends at the Johnson’s farm.” I settled in,
watching the woods fly by the window. “I can’t believe you missed my drive.”
“It isn’t like I’ve been there a lot,” he grumbled.
Rachel’s voice raced through my mind again. I replayed all
those nights Chris and I hung out at the
Rec
Center
after the kids’ parents picked them up. Almost an entire summer’s worth of
evenings and he’d only driven me home twice. I either caught a ride with Rachel
before she left for the summer, or I walked.
Luke never would have
let me walk home alone in the dark.
A shudder rocked me as I considered
where that thought came from. Luke just wouldn’t get out of my mind.
And, Luke wasn’t Chris. No matter the nice things he did.
Luke wasn’t the guy who I’d gotten to know this summer after
years
of wanting to know him better. The
guy who was secretly sweet and worried about school and avoided his parents and
helped his friends run drills and told me things after the kids went home I was
pretty sure he didn’t broadcast to the world. There was something
bonding
about being the person someone
shared stuff with.
So, no.
Luke wasn’t Chris.
Chris used the Johnson’s circular drive to turn back toward
my house. “Listen, babe. I’m not sure you should be hanging around with
Parker.”
I shifted again to look at him fully. “What? We aren’t
hanging out.”
“He’s new and you’re sweet to be nice to him, but he’s out
for my spot on the team. You can’t be spending time with him. It isn’t going to
work.”
I understood what he was saying. If I made friends with
someone who was battling for a slot on the field against Chris, the outcome
would be bad for me no matter who won.
“It isn’t my fault he came to pick me up this morning. He
knew I didn’t have a ride.”
Chris nodded, his distraction starting to pinch my nerves,
making me anxious and curious at the same time.
“I mean,” I continued, “it’s a good way for me to get my run
in, but I didn’t want to be rude to him.”
“That’s sweet.” Chris’s voice sounded distant, as if he were
already thinking about something else. “Forget about Parker. I’m sure he won’t
be around much longer. Did Coach give you the lists for tomorrow with the
binders?”
After thinking about Luke and his lack-of-nosiness, Chris’s
questions started to grate on me the wrong way.
“The only person asking about the binders is you. You seem
really interested in what I know. What I know because of the position you got
me as stats girl.” I felt a little sick.
Like running in
90-plus-degree-weather-without-hydrating sick.
“Is that what this is all
about?
Me being stats girl?
Am I
your
in?”
He pulled the car to the side of the road and threw it into
park. “No!
Of course not.
You know this was all about
us getting to spend more time together. Even when we don’t get to really hang
out, at least I know I’ll get to see you.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted him to want to be with me
more than soccer.
I know, I was asking for the impossible.
“Babe,” he leaned toward me, brushing my hair away. “I don’t
need an in. Yeah, it would be nice to know stuff, but really? Having you there
is the biggest bonus of you being stats girl.” He shot me that grin, the one
that made every girl in school stop and stare… and blush.
“Okay. You’re right. Sorry.” I smiled back and repeated
myself because I was so sure of him now. “You’re right.”
I pushed aside my doubt. I had to believe that this was
about there being
an
us
,
not about Chris being the exact opposite of who I’d always believed him to be.
Otherwise, he was a complete you-know-what and I was a fool.
No one wants to be a fool… and I really wanted to believe in
him. To be the girl he looked forward to dating when this was all over.
Chris put the car back in drive and pulled onto the road.
The bridge came into view and he slowed, glancing from side to side.
“It’s on the left just before the bridge,” I told
him—surprising myself at the slight snit in my voice—so he wouldn’t pass it
again.
Pulling down the dirt lane, the crescent moon shone through
the thick foliage overhead. At the circle in front of the house, Chris threw
the car into park again. The darkened windows reminded me I hadn’t been home
since breakfast.
“My dad’s not home yet, you know
,
if you wanted to come in and hang out for awhile, or something.”
His gaze flicked past me to the house before he answered.
“Aw, babe.
I can’t. You know.
Big day
tomorrow.
Don’t want to be tired.”
I’d known that when I’d offered, but I’d hoped he’d come in
for a few minutes. I don’t
know,
maybe walk me to the
door. I usually didn’t mind the way my house sat away from everyone else. The
first moments alone always gave me goose bumps, especially coming home after
dark. But then I’d know I was safely tucked away from the world without
strangers about.
“Okay.” I reached in the back to get my bag where he’d
tossed it over his shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I held the door open, waiting, until he said, “Yup.
Tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes as I straightened, slamming the door and
marching toward the house. A large part of me I’d deny existed hoped he’d get
out of the car and follow me in to see what the door-slam-thing was about.
Instead, he sped away, leaving me to fumble for the doorknob in the dark.