Runner Girl

Chapter One

I bounce on the tips of my toes, my ponytail moving with me, as I survey the competition. The girl next to me looks like she wants to throw up, and I shift my gaze fast. Seeing other people get sick just grosses me out, and I don't want to risk my power bar making a second appearance. I glance to my left, and my gaze lingers on the runner on the other side of me. His skin is bronzed, and with his dark curly hair and wide brown eyes, he looks like the posterchild for sporty-sexy-casual. He notices me staring and cocks his head to one side, his eyes skimming over me from the top of my ponytail to the soles of my well-worn shoes.

The way he looks at me should make me feel bitchy, but instead, I feel the familiar tightness in my gut when I notice his interest vanish as soon as he gets to my mostly flat chest. I sigh, turning away and acting like I don't care. It's not like you'd have stood a chance once the gun goes off anyway, I tell myself, trying to get my head back in the game. He's probably just staring at me because I'm THAT girl. That freak girl who beats everyone. Cute or not, once I beat him, the guy would be just like all the rest, and I don't need to waste any brain power wishing for something that would never be.

Most people think running is all about physical strength and endurance, but that's not what makes or breaks me when I'm on the track. It's all a head game; I know my brain will give out long before my legs do.

The loudspeaker crackles to life, and a sudden hush descends over the crowd of parents, friends, and coaches. The blood starts to thrum in my ears. This is it. I'm not nervous at all; I'm an arrow, taut and ready to fly. Or is it the bowstring that's taut? I barely have time to smile at the ridiculous thought before the gun sounds and instinct takes over.

The track, the spectators, the other runners, everything becomes a colorful blur as I throw myself forward, my feet barely touching the ground.

At school meets, Coach usually lets me run all the events I want, distance and sprints, but for the state championship, he's treating me like the secret weapon I am. He held me back all day until nearly the last event, saving me for the 3200-meter race. Sure, everyone here has heard rumors about the girl who's sweeping the competition, but that doesn't make it any less impressive when I finally appear. Despite the fact that this race is nearly two miles, I don't ease out of my starting sprint. Sweat drips into my eyes, and my mouth tastes like hot air, but I don't slow down. I run like I've got wings on my shoes, and in record time, I'm sailing across the finish line, one fist in the air in my usual triumphant celebration, but even then, I don't stop. I ease up a bit, slowing to a gentle jog as I take a victory lap (which is really more about cooling down than showing off), and gradually, I slow to a walk.

The spectators should be cheering wildly, but for a moment, silence hits me like a heat wave. I've stopped with my back to the stands deliberately; I don't want anyone to see that it rattles me, their predictable, almost frightened reaction to my supernatural speed. I can feel them watching, trying to process what they just saw, and the feeling makes my skin crawl. The pause is usually over in an instant, and just like clockwork, someone whistles, and then another person applauds, and by the time I turn around, most of the people in the stands are cheering. They know they just saw something pretty unlikely; the scrawny girl from next to nowhere just busted all the records of the best high school runners in the entire state, and despite the rumors, despite the handful of interviews in the local papers, nobody saw it coming.

Well, not nobody. My eyes find Coach Merk on the sidelines, and he grins broadly, sunlight glinting off his silver goatee as he gives me two thumbs way up. I jog over to him, and he claps me on the back.

"Way to go, Lana," he says, leaning in so he doesn't have to shout the words. "I'm proud of you."

I smile at him, the runner's high still carrying me into the clouds. "So what's next, coach?"