Thirteen Summers

fifty

THIRTEEN SUMMERS
tw: grooming

Since that evening on the track, Josie's running routine became almost ritualistic.

School was a blur, her days spent hiding in the hub to escape the overwhelming noise and social pressures, she'd barely even seen Kiara after that kiss.

After classes ended, she ran. Always ran. Even if practice wasn't on.

And Dalton was always there.

Each afternoon, he greeted her with that calm, steady presence, his casual smile and easy questions like a balm on her frayed nerves.

"Feeling ready today?" he'd ask. And Josie would nod, her chest tightening in anticipation, not of running, but of being near someone who seemed to understand the chaos inside her.

Her body was telling her to stop. She knew it.

Her muscles ached, her stomach churned, and some days, her vision blurred halfway through her laps.

Her physical health started showing the strain.

She felt weak, lightheaded, and nauseated more often, but she pushed through anyway.

Dalton always stayed with her, offering support in just the right amount to make her feel safe, yet never encouraging her to stop.

Dalton's presence made her push herself further.

When she faltered, he gave gentle advice on breathing, stretching, or running slower-but he never questioned the intensity she was forcing herself to maintain.

That gentle reassurance, that quiet concern, became the anchor she clung to.

Josie started confiding in him, small things at first, how hard it was to concentrate in class, how exhausted she felt, how anxious the hub felt some days. Dalton listened.

He nodded. He reassured her. And slowly, she began to trust him more than anyone else, more than Nick, more than Roman, more than her brothers or her sister.

She didn't realize that she was leaning on him not just for guidance, but for emotional safety.

She told him about her fear of falling behind, her need to stay fit, the compulsion to control her body through exercise and restrictions. Dalton never judged.

He never lectured. He merely positioned himself as the one safe space where she could be completely honest, where no one would reprimand or misunderstand her.

At home, they noticed her retreating more and more from them all.

She still smiled when she saw them, still answered their questions politely, still attended her assessment sessions but the sparkle of connection that had returned with Roman's visit was dimming.

Josie no longer sought them out to talk about her day, she now sought Dalton. Even small details, like finishing a run, or deciding when she could rest, they were increasingly filtered through his approval.

One afternoon, after an especially grueling session, Josie collapsed to the ground, weak and trembling.

Dalton was instantly at her side, steadying her. "You pushed yourself so hard today." He murmured, his voice soft. "I'm proud of you."

He guided her to sit against the fence, watching her carefully. "Let's just slow down, breathe. You're okay. I've got you."

Josie's eyes filled with tears, relief washing over her in equal measure with exhaustion.

She whispered that she felt like she had to keep her body in control, that it was the only way she could manage the rest of the world.

Dalton nodded, and without judgment, he said. "Then let's find a way to handle it together. You don't have to do it alone."