Page 12 of Choosing You

“Why don’t you do them with me?” he asks in a challenging tone. “Let’s race.”

I never turn down a challenge. Well, sometimes I do, but it’s rare. “I’m a distance runner, not a sprinter. But a distance runner can beat a swimmer any day. This should be easy.” I stand up, stretching my legs which are stiffening up after my short break.

“You think you can beat me, huh?” He stretches as well. “So what’s with the insults? You don’t like swimmers?”

I shrug. “Swimmers are okay. I just don’t think they have to work that hard. I mean, the water makes you basically weightless. It’s easy to go fast when you don’t have to drag your body weight around. You don’t get that benefit with running.”

His jaw basically drops to the ground. I’ve just insulted both him and something that’s near and dear to his heart. Apparently this has never happened to him before. Pretty boy must be used to only getting compliments.

“Are you shitting me? Did you just say swimmers don’t work hard?”

“Yeah, why?” For some reason, I’m really loving insulting this guy.

“Game on, Iowa girl. Get your ass in position.”

He sets himself up in lane one of the track. I take my sweet time walking over to lane two, yawning just for added effect.

“Do you need a head start?” I ask him, stretching my arms behind my back.

“Damn, you’re annoying.” He smiles when he says it. “We do one lap around. Ready? Three, two, one. Go!”

I take off down the lane, my eyes straight ahead, pretending he’s not there. I quickly round the first end of the track and hit the straightaway. I imagine myself running far away from this place. Running back home and seeing Frank and Ryan again. I round the next end and keep running.

“Stop! We’re done!” I hear Garret’s voice and slow down, noticing that I’m already halfway through a second time around the track. I finish the loop and meet up with him again. He’s bent over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.

“Okay, I admit it. You’re fast,” he says, panting as sweat drips off his face.

“Fast? That was my normal pace.”

He glances up at me, trying to figure out if I’m kidding. Then he stands up straight and wipes the sweat off his forehead. “Remind me never to do that again.” He walks over to the edge of the track and gets his water bottle. “You should sign up for cross country or track. You’re really fast.”

“Nah. I ran cross country in high school. Now I just run when I’m stressed.” It’s true, but I wish I hadn’t said it. It makes me sound weak and I hate sounding weak, especially around a guy.

“What are you stressed about? School?”

“No. I didn’t mean that I only run when I’m stressed. I run for all kinds of reasons. Like today I ran because it’s nice outside and I’m bored.”

“You want some?” He offers me the water bottle. I’m a little hesitant to drink out of it, assuming pretty boy has herpes or some other contagious STD. But I’m dying of thirst, so I take it from him. “If you’re bored, let’s do something. I’ll show you around and we can grab lunch somewhere.”

“I can’t. I have stuff to do. I need to unpack and make my bed.” It sounds really pathetic, but I don’t have any other excuse. I gulp the water and hand him the bottle back.

He takes a drink and a drop comes out. “You drank the whole thing! What did you do that for? I’m dying here.”

“You didn’t say how much I could have. You should really be clearer next time.”

He stares at me like he’s never come across someone like me before.

“Fine. Give it here.” I hold my hand out. “I’ll go fill it up for you.”

“Forget it. I’m heading back now anyway. I can’t do any more sprints after that.” He starts to leave the track, then turns back. “Aren’t you coming?”

What iswiththis guy? He won’t leave me alone. “You go ahead. I’ll stay here and stretch.”

“We’re having lunch. Come on. Let’s go.”

I find myself following him as he walks up the hill. Why am I following him? It makes absolutely no sense. And I don’t like it. I never follow. I lead. But for some reason I’m intrigued by this guy, even if he is a swimmer.

CHAPTERFIVE

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