„Because you wasn't there."
„I was."
_-_-_-_-_
Jawlin thrower whos ex boyfriend is long jumper and her friend is pole vauler.
What can happened when these three are together at Olympic games in Paris, right?
*Second Book - Little Olympic Series*
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The training session went smoothly, despite how unsettled Willa seemed at the start. She ran a few laps around the track, even though she didn't have to, as it wasn't her main discipline, and she usually warmed up in other ways. She just felt like she had to. She had a sense that if she didn't, her head might burst with all the thoughts swirling inside it. Running was the only way she could truly clear her mind, so she chose to warm up with a one-and-a-half-kilometer run.
Miles. He was the reason for it all. These thoughts that refused to leave her mind were because of him. After what he did, she never wanted to see him again. The problem was, he represented the same club Willa competed for. That's how they had met—during training. She didn't want to think about him, because she had made a rule for herself—if she ever dated someone she trained with, she wouldn't let a potential breakup affect her behavior or her performance. But now, she was letting it. All these feelings and thoughts were starting to take control of her body and mind, and all she could do was wait and hope they would fade. But the committee wouldn't wait for her to clear her head and get back to her top performance.
Mondo noticed, as he always did. As he prepared to sprint with a five-meter pole, aiming to clear the bar set at six meters, he glanced over at Willa, who was standing nearby. Normally, he wouldn't look around during training because he always focused solely on himself and his jumps. The only thing that interested him was his pole and his own body, which knew its limits. But after seeing how his friend looked after Miles spoke to her, he couldn't help but steal occasional glances at Willa.
Usually, she would be smiling during training—he knew that without even looking at her. She always smiled when she held the javelin and prepared to throw it far into the distance. Javelin throwing was her sport; it brought her joy, and that's why she always had a smile on her face. She was known for it, and people on the internet even made memes about it—she was the javelin thrower who smiled as she landed every throw. But today, she looked like her mind was elsewhere. She wasn't even holding her javelin; it was leaning against a bench next to where Willa stood. If he weren't in the middle of his own training, he would have run over to her and wrapped her in a hug—that's what he was always there for, to hug Willa, but only as a friend. Always just as a friend.
Instead of running over to the blonde and hugging her, he sighed and looked up at the bar set six meters above the ground, ready for him to clear it. Six meters wasn't the hardest for him, but what he wanted to accomplish at this Olympics was to beat his own record, the one he set long ago—his own world record. He wanted to push even closer to the limit, a limit that would be incredibly difficult for the human body to surpass.
He had to leave Willa to her thoughts. He had to let her deal with it on her own because he had no other choice. He knew his friend well and knew she would be furious if he sacrificed moments of his training to go to her. She would also hit him for worrying about what was bothering her, because, according to her, nothing was wrong. He knew very well that she would insist she was perfectly fine, even though anyone with working eyes could see that she definitely wasn't.
