After my showdown with Andy, I get angry, as Coach Jenkins likes to say. My legs achieve an unprecedented rate of speed, and my split times cross into competitive territory. Coach clocks me sprinting down the hallway, he shakes his head in astonishment and hands me a baton. I’m assigned the second leg of the B relay team. Not much amazing achievement potential, given that our A team was last year’s state champ. But hey, it’s a real race.
“Hold up, Sadie,” Dom calls when I motor by, wrapping up my final circuit. He flexes his chiseled arms, slick with perspiration. When I slow my pace, I see exactly how much sweat drips off of him. Yuk.
He drops into a set of sit-ups, showcasing his core strength, a term Coach Jenkins throws around on a daily basis. Of course, in relation to me, Coach usually talks about my lack thereof and follows up his comment with the suggestion of a daily abdominal routine including 1,000 crunches. I only wish I had that much dedication.
Dom’s dark eyes meet mine between curls. “So, what’d you do to AK? He looks like he wants to put his fist through a wall every time he sees you.”
“We kissed. Same as you and me. And you still like me, right?”
“Sure I do.” Dom grunts his way through five more reps. “Maybe we need to try it again. I might have missed something the first time.”
My stomach churns up some serious bile at the thought of reliving the stunt he pulled in his closet. No way. “You know what, maybe I’ll check in at mathletes and see if I’ve missed anything lately.” I jog down the hall in the direction of Mrs. McCaffrey’s room, leaving Dominic looking sort of pissed off at my rejection. The door is closed, but I hear muffled voices, so I rap my knuckles on the frosted pane.
“Come in,” Mrs. McCaffrey calls. She and Jana are engaged in a pow-wow around the teacher’s desk. Between them sits a sea of math books, red plastic cups crammed with pencils, protractors, rulers, and a stack of tests waiting for grades. Mrs. McCaffrey is an anti-perfectionist mathematician who only straightens up her piles of junk when Principal Dailey visits her room during his annual observation period.
Jana turns toward me, her mocha-colored eyes watery.
“Sorry for interrupting.” I step back into the hallway.
Mrs. McCaffrey waves me inside. “Sadie, we were just talking about you.”
“I was telling Mrs. McCaffrey about how horrible I felt. Our argument was all my fault,” Jana confesses, with a sniff. “I pushed you into a situation and I shouldn’t have. I wanted to apologize, but what, was I supposed to follow you into the girl’s locker room and force you to talk to me?”
I sigh. “It wasn’t all your fault. I’m my own person. No one forced me into—the situation.” I pray Jana didn’t spill any specific details to Mrs. McCaffrey about what we apparently now refer to as the situation. I don’t want the faculty to think I’m in the habit of randomly kissing boys like I did at Dom’s party.
“I didn’t realize that the situation had—extenuating circumstances,” Jana answers, keeping up with the code.
“Ahem.” Mrs. McCaffrey clears the air before we continue. “Listen girls, I need to make some copies in the office. Feel free to hang out in here until I get back.” She waves a packet of worksheets on her way out the door.
“So, are we still friends?” Jana asks, as soon Mrs. McCaffrey leaves.
“We’re always going to be friends. Did you think a stupid misunderstanding about a dumb list of meaningless achievements was going to ruin us?”
“I’m so sorry if I messed up your chance with Andy,” she says, blinking back tears. “The day of the Senior Superlatives you seemed so mad about being associated with him.”
I sink into the seat next to hers and sigh. “I was totally blindsided. I mean, I’ve known him since kindergarten. I never really looked at him as a potential boyfriend. But, at some point, I realized he’s not the person I’d always assumed he was.”
She nods. “I guess Andy’s pretty mad right now, isn’t he?”
I laugh. “Fuming.”
“And the list? Are we quitting?”
“No way. We are completing ten amazing achievements before graduation, even if I have to kiss Andy’s big smelly sneakers and beg forgiveness because he’s the last living male on the planet.”
“Would you kiss Dom again to get a ride in his car?” she asks, with a faint smile.
“Absolutely not. He just tried to pull that trick on me, and I wanted to tell him to stuff his tongue down someone else’s throat. Any amazing achievement related to Dominic is now your responsibility.”
Jana’s face breaks out in a smile. “I guess I’d be willing to handle Dominic. For the sake of our friendship.”
***
“Tomorrow’s a big day,” Jana remarks. We ease on down the sophomore hallway, taking a long, slow lap as we wrap up track practice. As soon as we began running together again, my split times reverted right back to turtle pace.
“What’s so great about tomorrow?”
“Coach Jenkins said March fifteenth is the official kick off date for spring track. We get to run outside.”
“Oh, right. On the trail around school.”
“Yep. And to celebrate, I’m going to kiss Ben in front of the sign.”
“You need to try something. Otherwise, you’ll be a saggy old lady before he gets past texting.”
“Do you think he’ll come willingly like Andy did for you?”
“I’m pretty sure that if you lead, Ben will follow.”
“If not, then I’m totally misreading him.”
“How can you miss those big hazel eyes adoring you every second of every day?”
Jana giggles. “Okay, here’s my plan. I’ll ask him to run warm ups with me. We’ll loop around to the front of school. You need to distract Dominic.”
“I thought we agreed Dom is off limits,” I protest.
“You don’t have to kiss him, chica. Just ask him for running pointers or something that involves taking his shirt off.”
“Ah, taking off the shirt! Brilliant.”
“I know, right? Then catch up with me for verification purposes.”
“I don’t need proof. You believed me, didn’t you?”
“True. But I also saw both boys right after they kissed you.”
“Did they have matching looks of satisfaction?”
“Sort of. Dominic looked like a wolf that just tore apart a squirrel. And Andy looked dazed and confused.”
“Andy always looks dazed and confused,” I say, with a snort.
“Yes, but he was a total loon that night. His blue eyes were all sparkly, too. He seemed drunk, but he wasn’t at the party long enough to actually be drunk.”
“Andy is high on life. Well, he used to be before I dared to lock lips with another boy the same night I kissed him. Like I knew Andy was even interested in anything besides a one-time hookup.” But as the words pour from my mouth, guilt stabs the center of my heart. I picked up on something between us, but I chose to ignore the signs.
“Yeah, who would have thought Andy was crushing on you? Especially after the snowball incident. That’s what twelve-year-olds do when they like someone, not guys heading off to Ivy League-caliber colleges in a few months. Anyway, you understand the plan for tomorrow, right?”
“Distract Dominic. I don’t need to see you and Ben in action.”
“Your decision. Maybe I’ll snag a prom date while I’m at it.”
“Another awesome achievement. But probably not list-worthy, since we did go to prom last year.”
“Best friend, I’m sorry for ever doubting the power of us,” Jana says solemnly and stops running to give me a hug.
***
The next day track practice gets off to a late start. Everyone mills around waiting for Coach to announce outdoor running assignments, so I take advantage of the confusion and casually ask Dominic to demonstrate the proper way to stretch before a race. On top of being a great runner, the guy is some type of yoga master. He dips into a runner’s lunge so low he’s practically doing a split. I attempt to mimic his pose, but the instant I flex my right knee, a pulling sensation creeps up the back of my leg. I stop mid-stretch, settling for what Dominic describes as a vaulted warrior pose. Good enough. I’m not interested in suffering for my sport.
By this time, Jana and Ben have disappeared, but no one else seems to notice. Coach Jenkins is caught up welcoming the varsity football team’s offensive linemen. They showed up to shot put and run a few laps, hoping to shed their winter blubber before summer workouts begin.
“Start here,” Coach says to the guys, reverting to two-word sentences when his first attempt at explaining the practice schedule is met with only blank expressions. “Run there.” He points to the batting cages on the other side of campus. “Come back. To me.” He points to himself. They nod and take off at a snail’s pace.
“Girls team, run the cross country trail. Meet in the gym when you’re done to work on relay handoffs,” Coach says, turning towards the rest of us.
“How long is the cross country trail?” I ask.
“Three miles,” says one of the twiggy shaped junior runner girls.
“Three miles?” My last sip of pre-practice Gatorade detours into my windpipe. I bend forward, coughing hard to help redirect the liquid electrolytes seizing hold of my lungs. I’d never run more than a mile during indoor practice.
“Welcome to spring training, Matthews,” Coach Jenkins says, thumping me on the back and sending me into another round of near-asphyxiation. I recover in time to fall in at the back of the pack, keeping one eye on the trail and one on the lookout for Jana.
The girls’ team gallops along like wild horses, rounding the first corner of the trail. Mud kicks up from the soggy ground and splatters the lower half of my legs. When we reach the straightaway in front of the school, I step off the trail, into the grass and kneel down to tie my shoe. Jana and Ben are still MIA.
After stalling as long as possible, I take off again, stretching out my strides to avoid losing sight of the girls. By the time they pass the school sign, I’m lagging far behind. My lungs recoil at the freshness of the air and the pungent scent of the pollinating trees. Inside practices conditioned me to breathing in stale dust. Right before the sign, I pause to catch my breath, knowing I’ll never catch up. As I stand there, gasping for air, a large blond figure jumps out from the behind the school sign.
“Aha!”
My answering scream practically shatters glass in nearby car windows. “Andy! Are you trying to scare me to death?”
He’s back to wearing glasses, and behind the thick lenses, he meets my fear with an icy stare. I back away from him, and turn to run in the opposite direction. My foot slides on a patch of muddy ground, sending me face first into the gravel.
“Ouch.”
The taste of grass, wet dirt, and sweat swishes in my mouth as I lay on the ground. No one offers assistance, so I roll over, prop up to a sitting position, and pick a loose stone out of my scraped knee. Blood drips down the front of my leg.
“What are you doing here? Ow!” I scoot off the trail, aiming my backside toward a softer patch of brown grass. Pain shoots up the back of my leg in the spot that nagged me when I stretched out with Dominic.
“Expecting someone?” Andy directs a smug look my way. “Are you pretending to be lost so you can meet your secret boyfriend on the track team?”
“No, Andy. You’ve got it all wrong.” I stretch my legs wide, trying to relieve the pain but only feel more of a burning, tearing sensation.
“Yeah, sure I do. I saw you and Dominic talking after school. You’ve been in love with him for the last three and a half years. You joined the track team for him. You probably planned the whole lab partner thing with Jana just to sit next to him.”
I stare up at the bright blue sky, thinking how it matches the color of Andy’s eyes when they do the amazing twinkling thing I’ll probably never see again. Sheesh. I must have hit my head on the way down.
“Okay, I’ll admit it. You foiled my evil master plan. Now I’ll never achieve my dream of becoming Dominic’s potential drunk hook-up target. Because that’s all I really wanted out of my senior year, right?” I lift my arm above my head, reaching for him. “Can you help me up? I think I hurt something.”
“Yeah, sure you did.” His feet seem mammoth-sized when he steps closer. I clutch Andy’s leg and hoist myself to a standing position, nearly taking him down in the process.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, trying to shake me off of him.
“I said I was hurt.” I grimace and moan to further elaborate. “Are you going to walk me back to school or do you want to just watch me limp the whole half-mile? I can’t call Dominic, the love of my life from here. And now the person everyone thinks I’m going to marry won’t help me either!” Enraged by the stupidity of our discussion, I push away from Andy and hobble back along the cross-country trail, dragging my injured leg behind me.
I count ten steps before the possibility strikes me that he intends to watch me suffer the whole way back to school. I never imagined Andy having this capacity for hatred. A cry chokes me, but before I let it out, he comes up from behind and sweeps me in his arms like I’m a rag doll.
I can’t resist curling my arms around him. “Wow. You’re deceptively strong for such a skinny guy.”
His lips press together like he’s fighting not to smile. “And you’re deceptively evil for such a cute girl.”
“You think I’m cute?” I ask, wriggling beneath his vise-like grip.
He cranes his neck, checking out a jet flying overhead, marking the sky with a tail of white smoke. “You’re not—ugly.”
I poke his chest to bring his attention back to me. “If you had to rate me on a scale of one to ten, where would I be?” Curiosity kills me every time.
“Hmmm. Is one good or bad?”
“One is bad, math wizard. Ten is totally hot.”
“Then I plead the fifth.”
I pick my head up from his shoulder. “You think I’m a five?”
“No. I refuse to answer, because if I do, it will only get me in trouble.”
“How bad-looking can I be?” I wonder aloud. “You kissed me.”
“I was drunk,” he says, with a grin.
I bring my face closer to his. “You were so not drunk. You were only at the party for like two minutes. Plus, there was no AOB.”
“AOB?”
“Alcohol on breath. I didn’t smell anything. When I hugged you after our first driving lesson, you hugged me back. Do you remember that?”
He rolls his eyes. “How could I forget? I still have nightmares about you almost crashing through my windshield.”
“Sadie! Over here.” Geez. Somehow Jana times her appearance to perfectly destroy the first enjoyable conversation I’ve had with Andy in days. Her shrill voice startles him, and he drops me like a bag of hot rocks.
“Ouch.” My tailbone connects with the hard ground, jolting my spine out of alignment.
“Sorry,” Andy says, sounding not the least bit apologetic. Ben and Jana round the corner, walking hand in hand along the running trail.
“Your friends can help you the rest of the way. See ya.” With a wave, Andy ventures off in the direction of the student parking lot.
“What happened?” Jana manages to tear her eyes away from Ben when she hears me groaning.
“I was running—like you were also supposed to be doing—and Andy jumped out from behind the school sign. He scared the bejeezus out of me, and I fell. Now my leg hurts. I can barely walk.”
Jana and Ben hoist me up from the ground and cart me back to the Phys Ed building. When I describe my fall and the burning pain to Coach Jenkins, he shakes his head sadly.
“Hamstring,” he pronounces. “You could be out for the season.”
“What!?!” Jana and I cry in unison.
“I didn’t even run in one race yet,” I say. I glance at my best friend. The success of our high school achievement list now rests on her shoulders. She needs to step up and earn our varsity letter or all the hours we spent running in circles will be a waste. And unless she possesses a previously undiscovered talent for pole vaulting, we’re completely doomed.
After delivering the bad news, Coach packs ice around my thigh and sends me on my way. Ben volunteers to drive Jana and me home. He runs to fetch his minivan, promising to meet us by the cafeteria doors while Jana acts as my human crutch, supporting me in front of my locker as I gather my homework.
“What happened, Sadie?” Mrs. McCaffrey steps out of her classroom when she notices me limping by.
“I think I wrenched my hamstring at track practice.”
“You’re running track? Is that why you’ve cut back on mathletes?”
“Yeah. Sadie may be out for the season,” Jana adds. “Looks like we’re not earning any varsity letters before we graduate.”
“It wasn’t really ever going to happen, anyway,” I say. “But at least we tried.”
“If you want to earn a varsity letter, then why not stick with mathletes?” Mrs. McCaffrey asks, looking back and forth between us, confused. “If we win the first round competition and make it to the county championships, everyone on the team automatically letters.”
Excitement burns in my chest. “Really? With Andy in our group, we’re a lock for the first round.”
“Let me get this straight.” Jana holds up one finger as she works the idea through her brain. “Did you say the whole team letters, even if we individually stink at math?”
“Neither of you stinks at math,” Mrs. McCaffrey says. “You may not be a pair of mathematical geniuses, like Mr. Kosolowski, but the two of you can hold your own against any other high school senior. I would never have asked you to be on the team if you couldn’t do the work.”
Jana whoops loudly and throws her arms around me, almost taking me down for the third time that afternoon.
“Ouch,” I wince, stumbling when my weight shifts onto my bad leg. But Jana is past caring about my personal discomfort.
“Our dream is alive, Sadie!”
“Great,” I say, attempting to work up to her level of enthusiasm. “But I think I prefer running with a pulled hamstring over seeing Andy Kosolowski at mathletes practice every day.”