Page 51 of I Hope This Doesn't Find
“What?” I try to sound casual. “Are you too stunned by your own defeat?”
A scowl quickly reappears on his face. “That was only a warm-up for me.”
“We’ll see if that’s true in the next race,” I tell him before I walk away to fetch my medal. I can feel him glaring after me.
•••
Regrettably I don’t have time to savor his defeat. I don’t even have time to sit down or grab a drink of water. There are too many races to run, too many people demanding my attention. I manage to win the next race, but Julius wins the sprint after that, as well as the long jump, which I bitterly attribute to the unfair advantage he has in height.
The sun rises higher in the sky, throwing off blinding beams of light.
I start to lose count of how far I’ve run, how far I still have left to go. I just push my body harder—and it’sworking. I’m invincible. I’m doing so well I even manage to come first in the eight hundred meters. Another medal collected, another tick next to my name, another number added to my winning streak.
But as I stagger off to the sidelines, a sudden wave of exhaustion crashes over me, and—
I can’t breathe.
The realization sends me into a panic. I try to suck in more air, but it’s like there’s an invisible hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. The oxygen gets stuck halfway down, and my lungs are empty. I double over, trembling, clutching at the stitch in my side. The sun is too bright. All my senses are off-balance, everything tilting away at an odd degree. My vision narrows to a white pinprick.
I’m still struggling to breathe.
I blink hard, and when the world comes rushing back to me again, only one face sharpens into focus. Black hair, pale skin, sharp lines. A strange look in his eyes.
Julius.
He’s staring at me, saying something, but the sound is distorted. At first I can only hear the blood thudding in my ears, the thunderous beat of my heart. It’s so loud it scares me, and I have a terrifying vision of my heart exploding inside my chest. I swallow down another futile mouthful of air. It goes nowhere.
“. . . Sadie. You need to sit down.”
Somehow it’s his voice that cuts through everything else, the blur of noise and colors in the background, the oblivious cheers of the crowd. Clear as the sky, familiar as my own heartbeat, a line to cling on to out at sea.
I mumble a response,I’m fine, it’s okay, just a little tired, but I’m not sure if he can even hear me. If my lips even move enough to form real words.
A crease knits itself between his brows. “Sadie—”
I take another step forward and my knees turn to water. I stumble.
Then suddenly, without warning, his arms are around me. If I weren’t so dizzy, I would jerk away. But to my own humiliation, I lean into him. It’s nice. It’s horribly, disgustingly wonderful, to feel the warmth of his body, the hard lines of his chest. I could sink into this moment forever, could let him hold me and—
No.
The lack of oxygen must be suffocating my brain cells.
“Here.” He guides me onto one of the benches in the shade, and the immediate reprieve from the sun is blissfully sweet. The air here feels cooler, gentler. I drink it in like I’m drowning, until my head is light.
“Breathe in slowly.” He kneels down in front of me, his hands around my wrists. “Count: one, two, three . . .”
I follow his guidance, counting to five, holding then releasing, then breathing in again. After ten counts, the white spot in my vision begins to fade. Another ten counts and the metal band around my chest loosens.
“Are you feeling better?” Julius asks.
My voice is a dry croak. “Y-yes.”
In a flash he drops his hands, steps back, and I feel a pinch of something like disappointment. Like loss. His features are tight when he hisses out his next words. “What’s your problem?”
“What’s my problem?” My mind is lagging behind, working at half its usual speed. I can only repeat the words foolishly. Wonder at why he looks the way he does, the muscle in his jaw tensed, his gaze cold and sharp and furious.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” he demands. His eyes cut through me as he speaks, splitting me open from head to toe. “You look like you’re about to faint, Sadie. It’s not a very pretty image.”
