False Start (Boyxboy)

2: INVERTED IDEALS

Keiji's the only guy I know who obsessively applies chapstick, and he was doing it then as we sauntered down the halls after school, a cherry scent wafting in the air. We'd gone over all that he needed to know when we texted last night, but he kept reaffirming everything.

"So these shoes will work?" was one of the many things he asked during our short walk to the locker room. I felt helpful and happy.

Once we'd reached our destination, we hesitated long enough to pass goofy looks back and forth. Then we opened the squeaky door.

A pungent, sour smell stung our nostrils and he hung back as I set down my bags on one of the benches. The guys around us started to notice the tall newcomer. They stared shamelessly, whispering as we peeled our shirts over our heads. Looking around, I realized that all of us were lanky with lean muscle in comparison to him.

"You the new Fujikawa guy?" Mori Tamura, our lead runner, was the first to speak up.

Keiji turned to face him as he emptied the change of clothes out of his gym bag. "Yeah, Keiji Fujikawa."

Mori extended his hand to give a friendly shake, locking their gazes with an intimidating confidence. When he let go, he relaxed into a slouched, hip-cocked stance and began pulling his collar-bone-length hair into a ponytail. "You were the basketball star, carrying the team on your back. I'm sorry you couldn't finish your season, but we're glad you're trying out. Hopefully you can be a cross country star, too."

Keiji seemed to huff a chuckle and sigh at the same time.

"Is that your natural hair color?"

That inquiry came from Hiro Fukui, the mood-maker who was always dying his hair. Right now it was a ruddy red with a small strip shaved beside his ear.

My friend's cheeks turned a little pink. "Yeah, my mom is Norwegian, and I got her sandy hair."

That was one thing I'd always envied about him. It made him stand out right off the bat, without even having to try, and it was happening again right then. The teammates seemed lured in by his presence.

"How'd you get that cleft lip? It's a sweet scar," Toyomi Seo, the smallest boy and varsity runner who we just called "Yo", wondered aloud.

This is when I spoke up, answering the question in my friend's place. We knew so much about each other that we often filled in each other's sentences. I felt protective of Keiji, too, because I knew he was self-conscious about the almost invisible white line above his mouth. "He fell off the playground when we were kids and his teeth tore through the skin."

Yo's face scrunched up with disgust. "Wait, so you guys have known each other that long?"

At that, Keiji slung his arm around my shoulders, weighing me down with a grin denting smile lines into his cheeks. "Yep. We've been best friends for, like, eleven years now."

I had to fight hard to keep from blushing.

Almost instantly, the boys took Keiji under their wing, giving him tips and pep-talks. I could tell that they liked him, just like everyone does.

We walked as a group to the art room and I felt giddy seeing my friend in a t-shirt and sleek shorts, a dirtied pair of sneakers on his feet and a watch around his wrist. This was a part of me that he never got to see. We were about to share something new together.

Inside, we all set down our bags and hiked ourselves up onto the art tables. It smelled like paint and clay. Coach Yamamoto, a big bald guy with acne scars all over his face, rose from his chair and started to pace back and forth.

"We've got our fifth meet tomorrow," he bellowed, "so I don't want to wear you out too much. However, you need to learn how to pace yourselves over all kinds of terrains. Today we're going to run hills."

He popped the cap off of a marker and drew a wave on the board behind him. As he did, Keiji and I jokingly swatted at each other's feet.

"When you're going uphill," Coach said, pointing at his picture with his crooked index finger, "you want to take it slower. Conserve your energy." He scanned our eyes to make sure we were focusing. "When you're going downhill, use the gravity to propel yourself forward."

In my peripheral vision, I noticed that Keiji seemed enraptured. He didn't even blink as he leaned off the edge of the table, listening intently.

The coach summed up his speech and then slapped our backs as we passed into the hallway to stretch. Nobody really talked; we were mentally preparing ourselves, steeling ourselves for the rough ride ahead.

The hill we were running was on a road right beside the school, paved with cracked cobblestone. It was windy, which made the already cool air burn to breathe. I wondered if I was more on edge than Keiji about his try-out.

"You ready?" Mori asked everybody, clapping his hands together.

A uniform "Hai!" chorused from the team.

And just like that, we picked up our knees and were off. Keiji stayed beside me as we herded up the steep slope, our bent arms swinging in tandem. Our bodies leaned at an angle against the tilted ground. The smell of drying leaves and various deodorants mingled in the breeze.

Hiro started up a military chant, which Keiji didn't know, and I saw his eyes widen with joy as we all yelled it out. We couldn't stop smiling and chuckling.

At the top of the hill, we circled around a street sign and turned to make our way back downhill.

"Seven more laps!" Coach howled as he jogged alongside us.

Keiji's legs started to turn over at a faster pace and he pulled ahead, away from me. I gritted my teeth and pushed to keep up. I felt like I had no control at that speed, like I was going to burn out. A grunt hitched in my throat.

"What?" Keiji wheezed out, thinking I'd spoken a word.

"N-nothing," I exhaled. "You're going really fast."

"Oh, really?" he gasped. "I wouldn't know." The pounding of his steps rattled his words.

I'd exerted a lot of strength to speak, and had to fall back a little. As I struggled to regain my composure and find my gait again, I thought, Keiji's just not pacing himself. He's going to have to stop.

But he didn't.

By the sixth hill, he'd almost lapped me, and the coach was shouting, "Push through the pain!"

And when the run was done, and we all sputtered for breath with our hands over our heads, the teammates were congratulating Keiji and jesting around like they'd known each other for way longer than a day. They were all being so funny, and I felt like all I was contributing was laughter.

Keiji fit right in, and made me realize that I never really did.

The coach tossed him one of our red and grey uniforms and told him he made the team, told him to get ready to run at tomorrow's meet. I thought I'd be happier.

And as we walked home, our sweat making us shiver, he said, "Man, this is freaking awesome, I get why you like it!"

And just like that, I felt like something had been stolen from me.