Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

MAKE IT OR BREAK IT

TARA

Britney Spears' "I'm A Slave 4U" pounded in my ears as I jogged around the track, the steady rhythm driving my feet forward while the late afternoon air chilled my skin. The stadium lights cast long shadows across the lanes, the hum of preparation for the upcoming race filling the background. Over to the side, Sarah Murray was going through a series of stretches, her movements precise and deliberate.

I liked her.

We'd been rooming together all week, and to my surprise, it hadn't been bad at all. There was something about her that reminded me of Erin—though her hair was a different shade and style. Sarah had the same bubbly energy, the kind that could fill the silence with chatter before it ever became awkward. She was a proper chatterbox, coming out with the most random things, especially late at night.

Two nights ago, we'd both been wide awake, the hotel room bathed in the soft glow of the city lights outside. Out of nowhere, Sarah had turned to me and asked, "Do fish drink water or just breathe it?"

What started as a simple question spiraled into a three-hour argument, with me insisting they drank it and her swearing they only breathed it. By the end, we weren't any closer to an answer, but my sides hurt from laughing so much.

Sarah Murray was a strange mix of Erin Connelly and Gerard Gibson—equal parts infuriating and endearing. Like the two of them, she had this uncanny ability to lighten even the heaviest moments. That's why I liked her.

Speaking of Gerard Gibson, he was here. He'd arrived yesterday along with Claire, Lizzie, Biggs, Freddie, Connie, Edel, and the rest of my siblings. It had been a proper family invasion. I hadn't talked much to any of them since Friday, though. Aoife called to wish me luck and casually mentioned that Joey managed to convince Dr. B to let him watch me compete on the telly at the rehab center. Fair play to him.

It was mad, though—my twin couldn't spare five minutes to tell me how he was doing himself. Instead, I had to hear it all through his girlfriend. But hey, that's just how things worked in the Lynch family.

Casey, Alec, and Podge had sent a postcard to the hotel, complete with a photo of them lounging by a pool in Majorca—or wherever they were supposed to be. It was sweet, even if it made me a little homesick.

I had spoken to Malachy and Ciaran, though. They'd heard about the incident with Kai, and to put it lightly, they weren't thrilled. Mikhail had apparently bribed the head of security for the championships, giving them free rein to roam. With my family and friends all here, I couldn't shake the worry that someone might decide to start trouble.

It felt like the World Athletics Championships had accidentally turned into a reunion for the most dangerous and powerful mafias on the planet.

And whose fault was it?

Mine.

Mine and my bratty attitude. Not that I was losing sleep over it.

Kai Takashi was an arrogant, sanctimonious gobshite wrapped in a self-centered, 5ft 11 pain in the arse. I hated him with every fiber of my being.

Lost in thoughts of creative ways to flatten the eejit—perhaps with one of his overpriced Ferraris—I didn't notice Sarah until I nearly ran her over.

"Jaysus, S!" I exclaimed, yanking off my headphones and reaching down to help her up. "You can't be getting hurt now—we've a race to win in twenty minutes!"

"I've been trying to talk to ya for ages!" she scolded, though the cheeky grin on her face betrayed her. She brushed herself off before grabbing my shoulders and spinning me toward the stands.