Page 18 of Lines We Cross
“No, no. I didn’t sign up for this,” I said to the mayor up on the stage.
“What’s that? I can’t hear you. Whoever is Skylar’s partner, can you come up here too?” His voice thundered through the loudspeakers again.
This was quickly becoming my worst nightmare. Called to the stage in front of my entire community, to run a race I didn’t sign up for and obviously didn’t have a partner for. How had my name gotten on that list? And what was I going to do to get out of this?
“Did you really sign up, Skylar?” a voice said off to my left. I looked over in a daze, seeing Jay looking at me, his handsome face as confused as I felt. Last we chatted I hadn’t told him anything about this race. Namely, because I had no idea I’d be running it.
I shook my head more vigorously, making myself slightly seasick with all the headshaking in the last few minutes.
“Dude, you should go be her partner,” his buddy next to him said, nudging his arm.
Jay’s face looked like a two-year-old being told to take a nap in the middle of his favorite cartoon. “But I have my new shoes on.”
In a flash of clarity, I realized I couldn’t stand the guy. What the heck had I seen in him to even go out occasionally and casually? I spun away from Jay’s whining, refused to feel shame over my lack of a partner, and bracketed my mouth with my hands to shout up at the mayor.
“I’m not going to do the race!”
A warm presence hit my back. Before I had time to turn and investigate, a familiar voice shouted above my head.
“I’ll be her partner.”
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the way his hand on my shoulder turned my stomach to mush. This couldn’t be happening.
“Good, all settled. Next up is Winston,” the mayor droned on with the list of participants.
I shrugged the hand off my shoulder and turned around, the jostle of too many bodies in a confined space meaning I was only inches away from the broad chest and blue-eyed intense stare of Max’s.
“I’m not doing this race.” I meant the words to come out firm and unquestioning, but they had more breathy tones than I was comfortable with.
His mouth tilted up at the side. At this close vantage point I could see the tiny lines fanning out from the corner of his eyes, whiter than the tan skin around them.
“Come on, Rae. Let’s live a little. Have some fun running through the forest with old friends in Bigfoot costumes trying to scare us. Just like old times except it’s brighter out, we’ll go slower since we’re old and decrepit—well, at least I am—and it won’t be Emerson trying to scare you.”
The cheering of the crowd around us faded into the background as his velvety voice convinced me to give it a shot. We did have a lot of fun in this thick forest when we were kids, dodging boulders and fallen tree trunks, darting out from behind trees to scare our friends. But it was the thought of Emerson that urged me to nod my consent. I wanted to do something that reminded me of him. Reminded me of the good times we had together before he got sick. To be a kid again, just for a slice out of time.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Max broke out into a full-on smile before he pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. I swear I felt a shiver of pleasure run down my spine with that simple touch. He let me go all too quickly—or not quickly enough depending on how I chose to look at it—and grabbed my hand instead to pull me to the front of the pack. I went willingly, my inner teenager squealing in excitement at the reality of holding hands with Max Duke after too many adolescent years spent dreaming about it.
He halted at the starting line, leaning down to tie his shoelaces tighter. I tried not to stare at his fine form and focus instead on what I’d gotten myself into. I was still in shape, but climbing over walls was a little beyond my capabilities even when I was a kid and my upper-body strength was in a tighter ratio to my body weight.
I thought of Max and how he’d smoke me on this race, given he was a professional athlete. But then he shifted on his left leg funny and grunted. I slapped a hand on his back, earning another grunt. “Wait. You can’t do this race, Max. You haven’t even been cleared to run yet.”
He finished tying his shoe and stood up, that same little smile in place I both loved and hated. Okay, hate was a strong word. The way he always seemed to find humor in everything really irked me for some reason.
“I’ll be fine. We’ll just walk quickly and take the obstacles slowly. I mean, look at Jim Sully over there. He’s only got one arm and he’s participating.” Max quirked his head in Jim’s direction, a twinkle in his eye, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“Fine. But if your knee starts bothering you, we stop. Got it?” I put my hands on my hips and dared him to argue with me.
He didn’t argue. He winked. “Aye, aye, Therapist. Will do.”
I gave him a warning look, but a loud horn startled me. Everyone around us started moving forward, pushing us along with them, lost in the tide of excited racers. Max reached out and grabbed my hand again, lacing our fingers together and pulling me toward the side. Cheers from the crowd on the sidelines drowned out whatever it was he said over his shoulder.
“What?” I shouted back.
We finally broke free to the edge of the mass of racers, where we could move slower. The shade of the tall pine trees made it feel ten degrees cooler this close to the dense forest. We kept moving, crossing over into the forest.
“I said, watch your step. The obstacles will slow most of these crazy people down. Slow and steady wins the race.” Max limped on, but kept a fast pace.
