Page 31 of Fake Dates and Home Plates
I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more in my life.
“Also,” he adds, “I printed three of these shirts—one for me and one for each of your parents. I guessed their sizes, so if you could just point them out to me...”
“Absolutely not,” I refuse. Besides, my parents always find a spot in the middle of the route where spectators are allowed. As long as Theo stays here, there’s a chance he won’t even run into them.
I shove him lightly in the chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Accurate,” he says then taps the side of his neon sign. “Now, go beat all these other runners, because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be hot as fuck watching you whip all their asses.”
Leaning over the rope sectioning him off from me, I reach my arms out for a hug, one he drops his sign to return. “You got this.”
“Thank you, Theo.” I leave his embrace so I can get back to warming up.
The whistle blows, and I take my spot with Lily beside me, our team huddled together with the other runners from different schools.
My pulse is racing as the signal goes off to start and the race begins.
As I take off, I hear Theo shouting from a distance. “GIVE ‘EM HELL, HENLEY!”
I tune out everything and focus on setting a strong pace. Runners fall behind me with a few ahead, giving too much energy much too soon.
The first mile goes by quickly.
It’s easy to visualize the course and exactly where I imagine everyone to be on it. The only thing throwing me off is the sight of someone in purple and orange a few hundred meters ahead of me.
Maddie, running faster than I’ve ever seen her in practice. Too fast. It’s not her pace. Not even close.
She’s going to burn out.
My gut twists, but I don’t call out to her. This isn’t a team huddle or a tempo run. This is a race, and sometimes, the best way to learn is by crashing headfirst into your own limit.
Still, I hate watching it.
By mile two, I see her shoulders start to tighten. Her stride shortens. Her elbows creep up. All signs of someone trying to hang on for dear life.
I pass another girl on the hill and close the gap between us. My breathing is steady, legs feeling strong. I’m right where I want to be.
There’s a spectator section just ahead, and I can’t help but lose focus as I look for my parents. They’re easy to spot; I reallyunderestimated Theo’s commitment to our bit. I don’t know how he found out where to go, but he’s standing right beside them.
All in those shirts with my face on them.
My mom’s shirt is swallowing her, way too big for her smaller frame, but I just know that thing is going to haunt me until it falls apart, because she looks delighted to be wearing it. I’m going to have to steal it and burn it the next time I’m home.
I hear them all shout different words of encouragement as I pass, and I avoid the instinct to flip them all off for wearing those terrible shirts.
Lily can’t be too far behind me, but I don’t look back to find her. Spotting Maddie again, I pull even with her just before the bend, marking another half mile down. She hears my footsteps and glances over, her face tight with effort. There’s panic in her eyes.
“You’re okay,” I say quickly, low enough that only she can hear. “Just tuck in behind me.”
She nods, but I know it’s too late to save her time. Now, she just needs to try and make it over the line.
I surge forward, increasing my speed.
The crowd’s volume grows as we approach the final stretch, and I feel a boost of energy as my body shifts into that last gear, that sweet spot of pain and power where it’s just me, the rhythm of my breath, and the finish line ahead.
The cheers blur together as I kick in.
One runner in front. One more girl I need to catch.
