Chapter Twenty-Six

Pepper

“They found Rex,” he says.

I jerk up. “What? When? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Last night, and the detective will call you today; I’m not even supposed to know.”

“How do you know?”

“I know a guy,” he says with a shrug.

Right. Of course.

“What else do you know?”

“Rex was lying low, staying with a friend in Colorado Springs. He wasn’t saying anything to the cops when they arrested him, and then he asked for a lawyer, so now the chances of him saying anything are even lower. I was going to tell you last night, but, um, got distracted.”

“Yeah.” I’m struck with sudden and acute embarrassment. Who was that girl last night? What came over me?

“Look, Pepper, I really want to talk to you about everything. Everything between us, and all the things I did.”

Standing up from the bed, I walk away to my closet and throw on running clothes. “Now’s not a good time, Jace.” I don’t elaborate, because the truth is, I’ve got no easily available excuse. Today is our first day off from a team workout since preseason started, which is why we had the party last night. I’m not even sure who might be up yet and if anyone will want to go on a run with me, so there’s nowhere I need to be. But he doesn’t pry.

“Yeah, okay. Um, do you want me to go?” What a loaded question.

Sighing, I glace over my shoulder. He looks lost. “Do you want to go on a five-mile run with me? It’s a recovery day and we don’t have anything scheduled.” I’m surprised when he agrees, because he probably has football commitments, but ten minutes later, after he’s gone home to change, we’re hitting the trail by our neighborhood.

He doesn’t try to talk about “us” again, which I’m grateful for, and we run in silence. I don’t want to hear his apology, because it’s not going to fix anything. I know what he wants to do. He wants to explain his actions from two years ago, and there are only a couple of ways that can go. One, he’ll admit that he’s a real asshole capable of being heartless and cruel. Even if that’s the truth, I don’t want to hear it. Or maybe he’ll say he wasn’t ready for a serious commitment, and he handled it poorly. Either way, what he’s really saying is that I wasn’t enough for him. And no matter what it boils down to, I don’t want to rip open that wound. I’ve accepted it, forgiven him, and we’re at a good place. If I can just avoid jumping him…

I’ve brought my cell with me and it rings as we’re jogging back on campus. It’s Detective Marshall, and he reports the same news Jace told me this morning. They found Rex, who claims he doesn’t know where Wolfe is. But there’s more. Rex has given a statement. He says he didn’t know what Wolfe was intending to do. Wolfe asked him and the other guy, who they are hoping Rex will give more information about, to meet him by that alley with the car and help him with a “job.” That’s it. Rex won’t say more, because clarifying what he means by “job” entails exposing more of his criminal history. Detective Marshall doesn’t tell me that last part, but it’s clear Rex is in a tough position. He wants to claim as small a role as possible in what happened to me, but he can’t explain himself in a believable way without showing his cards.

So we’re left waiting, again.

When Jace and I part ways after the run, I’m reluctant to admit that I want to ask him when I’ll see him again. But I’ve got too much pride to let him know just how happy it makes me he’s back in my life.

In lieu of a team workout, we have individual meetings with Coach Harding and the women’s assistant coach, Susan. Gina’s meeting was earlier in the day and as I’m leaving purple house for Coach’s office, I see her coming inside. Her eyes are red and raw, and it’s clear she’s been crying.

“Gina, what’s going on?” I try to convey patience and comfort, but I never know if I’m doing it right. Taking her in a hug, I lead her over to the couches.

“It’s stupid,” she says, but the tears threatening to spill over tell me a different story.

“Tell me anyway. All my problems are stupid too.”

“I just had my meeting with Coach Harding and Susan,” she begins. “I mean, they were perfectly nice, didn’t say anything mean or whatever, it’s just, they didn’t really talk to me about running, or my season.”

“Okay, what did they talk to you about?”

“Staying healthy. They said that my only goal should be staying healthy.” Her voice trembles and I reach to take her hand, even though I’m not exactly sure why their words were so upsetting.

“You didn’t expect them to say that?” I prompt.

She sighs and wipes her eyes with the back of her other hand. “No. I thought I proved myself last spring. I thought I showed everyone that I can run with the team and train with you guys without relapsing. I want, more than anything, Pepper,” she says, looking me in the eye, “I want you guys to believe I’m strong. That I’m not some fragile girl who’s going to snap and break. I want the coaches to treat me like a real athlete.”

I swallow, unsure what to say. In some ways, I find her incredibly strong. She battled hard over the past two years to get to where she is, and she’s in a good place. A lot of women would never be able to run collegiately again for physical and emotional reasons after experiencing a severe eating disorder like she did.

So that’s what I tell her. “You are strong, Gina, and the coaches wanting your health over everything else isn’t them saying otherwise. They know how determined you are to stay healthy, and they want to support that. Maybe as the season progresses they’ll talk to you more about your running goals, but you have to admit that running goals shouldn’t be your priority right now.” I hope I’m not screwing this up. “If doing what you love and competing helps you stay healthy, then we want you running by our side, but to keep it a healthy thing, you might not want to worry so much about your results.”

She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t want to hear it. Still, I think she’s trying to understand. “Yeah,” she says after a moment. “My times and places at workouts and meets are numbers and statistics which always make me think of the other numbers and statistics I’m not supposed to think about,” she admits. “You’re right, and the coaches are right too. This is about my health, not whether or not I’m in the top seven going into the Championship season.”

I nod. “Right.” But when we part with a hug and I make my way to the offices, I know it will be a tough season for Gina, regardless. There’s joy in being part of the top seven – the varsity – with the women at UC. Pushing ourselves as a team in those final meets against some of the best in the nation, and even the world, is an indescribable feeling. It’s better than individual glory, and I think in the past that’s all that Gina focused on. Now she wants to experience all of it. And it’s her senior year, so it’s her last shot. I hope she knows that she’s a part of the team whether she competes in the final meets or not, and that I’m not the only one who feels that way.

But my meeting doesn’t exactly go as planned either. Coach Harding has been pretty laid-back about his goals for me in the past. He’s usually vague and doesn’t get down to the specifics. But this time, Coach says it straight. “It’s your year to make All-American, Pepper.”

That’s his opener. From there, he tells me I’ve got a shot at the record on our home course, and a chance to win the individual title at our conference championship. I think my jaw is on the ground when he finishes.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he asks with no trace of humor.

“Well,” I say after a second to recover myself. “Those are the goals I’ve had in my head all summer for myself, but I wasn’t planning on vocalizing them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wasn’t sure if they were realistic, and I didn’t know if I was being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid, Pepper,” Susan tells me. “You’ve been capable of all these things since you were a freshman.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my eyes narrowing defensively.

“You haven’t reached your potential,” she says simply. My heart sinks. The words are hard to hear, even though I knew that would be her answer. I’ve known it all along.

“I know,” I murmur.

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Coach Harding says. “You’ve had some great seasons and you’ve been right in there on the national scene both in cross and track. Consistency as a college runner, especially for women, is definitely an important characteristic for a successful long-term running career.”

“And, in terms of getting sponsorship deals later, it’s more important to be consistent than to have that one awesome season and never do it again,” Susan adds. She pauses, and I wonder if she’s thinking of Gina, like I am. In a way, losing weight fast is a shortcut, but it comes with consequences. Hopefully if she stays healthy, she can get back on track.

“Do you think you want to run professionally after college?” Coach Harding asks.

When I say “yes” with a fervent nod, I realize I haven’t told anyone this.

“You’ve got the talent and the personality to do it,” Susan encourages me. But then we all go quiet, probably realizing we’re getting ahead of ourselves. “Well, Sienna can tell you about it when the time comes. She’s living it, right?”

Sienna Darling was my captain freshman year, and she’s been living up in the mountains, training with her now-fiancé, who is also her coach. She recently qualified for the marathon Olympic trials.

“Right,” I agree. A life of running, setting goals and chasing after them, would be a dream, and one I need to begin working toward this season.