Chapter 11

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"I didn't think you would show up." Her voice scares me as she jumps from bleachers to right in front of me. "Yeah, I just had to do some stuff." Stuff was finding out Jayden had a cold and finding a babysitter in the short amount of time I had. Shawn had taken this opportunity as a way to pay me back from stitching him up. He promised to keep watching Jayden's fever as he pushed me out of the door, throwing my key at me. "Is everything all right?" Her forehead crinkled as she studied my facial expressions. "Okay so why did I need to come down here this early?" Very smooth topic change. "I want to race you." I snort and look down at what she's dressed in: school shorts and an old Nirvana shirt with holes littering the worn fabric. "You should have told me to dress appropriately." I tease her. She shrugs and says, "What you have on is fine." My Converse will have to do. She walks slowly to the track and I follow obediently behind, the dew on the grass kissing at my exposed ankles. As my feet hit the red rubber texture, I start to bounce on the balls of my feet, stretching out my legs. Becca stares as I do leg lunges and she cracks her arm muscles. "Is that supposed to be intimating?" I snort, and she blushes, or maybe it was sunburn. "You have your warm ups, I have mine." I take a minute to check out my opponent. She has long, muscular legs, and I know from that one little sign that she is going to be fast. I have never been to a track meet, much less a practice, so I have no idea what I am up against. "Are you ready?" She looks at me, squinting her eyes as the suns chooses that exact moment to shine in her eyes. She looks gorgeous in the morning. I nod and we line up at the start line. She pulls her iPhone from the waistband of her shorts and mumbles something about a starter. She places it on the ground and we both take our marks. I hear something sounding like a muffled gunshot, and my instincts kick my legs into movement. I take off, my body so used to the fastness that I don't push myself yet. I can't see or hear Becca, but she's not my priority anymore. I keep my breath even, breathing in through my nose and out my mouth. I focus on the lane in front of me, the sky stretching over the fence. The sun is burning into my skin, my dark hair taking the worst of it all. My legs are starting to ache, and I take this as a sign to speed up. I can't stop now that I am so close to my breaking point. This is my favorite part. In every race, I hit my point where I know I should stop, but I don't. I push myself harder, my speed increasing as my heart wants to stop all together. The finish line comes up and I push with all my might, letting out a grunt as my Converse decide at this moment to get tangled up in each other. I stumble and land on my stomach, my face plummeting into the track. I hear her footsteps at this point, when I'm down and I can get into reality again. She wasn't as far behind as I though; she was actually right on my tail. "Holy... Are you okay?" She gets down on her knees and puts a hand on my shoulder. I shift under her touch, and she recoils. "I'm alright." I spit out, sweat dripping off of my nose. I sit up and meet her eyes. Her face is sweaty as well, and her perfect ponytail has fly away. We both breathe in sync and she smiles at me. "You're fast." She says, appreciation in her voice. "So are you." She beams at my compliment, and helps me up. She puts and arm under me and lets me put my weight on her as I can't with my left leg, a huge gash on my knee. It's awkward as we shuffle to the gate, and I know I have to say something. "Look, Becca... I'm sorry for what I had said to you." She sighs, places me on the bleachers, and takes my face in her hands. I stare into her spectacular eyes, and she says, "Brea, I was just mad that you doubted me. Embarrass me, I could care less. I wanted to show you I could be just as good as you." She smiles at me and lets go. She jogs out to the track to get her phone, and I shout to her, "Same time next week?" She turns around, bouncing in the air, and nods. I met someone that could keep up with me. She was my first.


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