Page 14 of The ABCs of You & Me

When????

Like I said, early days. That’s all I’m going to say.

That’s all I’m going to say because I have nothing else to say. I’m a liar, a spinner of tall tales.

Dan

Bring her to the BBQ.

Heather

Yeah, or else we won’t believe you.

I roll my eyes and lock my phone. I don’t have the desire to discuss this any further. Mainly because lying makes my stomach roll. When they find out the truth, I’ll feel like a bigger fool than I already am.

Asking Sophie to go with me could be fun but how would that conversation even go? And why would I be inviting her? Have we settled into an easy routine in a short time? Yes, it feels a lot like old times. But I think if I asked her to go she’d feel like she had to say yes because that’s the kind of person she is and my friends can be a lot.

“Mr. Walsh?” Pete says, looking up at me from the diagram of states of matter.

“Yes, Pete?” I reply as I struggle to get his pencil sharpener to actually sharpen a pencil.

“I want to run a marathon.” I look up expecting to see his classic gotcha grin, but his face is set in a determined grimace. Like he’s ready for me to tell him that’s not possible.

I have to make sure I don’t immediately write off this new aspiration. “Oh? What makes you want to run a marathon?”

“Cody Daniels said I couldn’t.”

“Well… that’s probably one of the better reasons I’ve heard to run one.”

“Have you run one?”

“No, but I’ve thought about it. I’ve run a half marathon. Maybe you should—” He’s already shaking his head before I finish.

“I want to run the whole thing.”

“Well, okay. Do you know what it takes to run a marathon?”

“Big lungs,” he says with conviction. “And a big heart,” he adds.

Pete is one of those people who doesn’t look at his disability as a barrier to anything he wants to do. The more someone tells him he can’t do something, the more likely he is to try and prove them wrong. There’s genuinely no point in telling him he can’t do it.

So, instead of dousing the flames, I add fuel to them. “How can I help?”

“Pete said you’re going to help him run a marathon,” Sophie says from the doorway of the empty classroom where I’m pulling my jacket on.

I turn to see her leaning against the door, her long black winter coat hanging open, revealing a green button-up and black pants. I try and fail not to notice how good she looks in green. Her head tips to the side as she waits for me to answer.

“I did. I have no idea how I’m going to manage it, but I don’t know, the kid’s hopeful about everything. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that kids typically don’t run marathons, let alone kids…” I don’t finish the sentence, letting the reality of it hang in the air.

“I get it. He knows himself. He’s one of the most self-aware kids I’ve ever met. Hell, there are adults who don’t have that level of self-awareness. So,” she asks as we head down the hall together, “how are you going to help?”

“For now I guess I’ll just do a bunch of research. There have got to be people with CP who have run marathons and triathlons right?”

“Many. Several Paralympians and world champions too.”

“You looked it up?”

“I did. The second Pete was gone, I got real down and dirty with Google.” I look over to see her smiling brightly at me and feel an odd sense of jealousy toward the Google search bar. “It wasn’t a comprehensive search by any means, but I was curious. Also, CP presents in a lot of ways. I don’t think that’s what will hold Pete back, if I’m being honest.”

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