Runner Girl

Chapter Eleven

Everything settles into a strange kind of rhythm that should feel foreign, since everything in my life is different, but it doesn't take long until this feels normal. Kary and I hang out together at school, but since I can't run with her, I haven't seen as much of her outside the school day as I'd hoped. She still doesn't get cheer, but she hasn't made any other bitchy remarks, even though she seems to vanish into thin air whenever Coach Cypri or any of the girls on the team are around. In class, I work hard, trying to prove to myself and everyone around me that I deserve to be a part of this elite school, and I'm surprised to find that I can keep up in most of my classes. Other than the heart-stopping encounter with Rakesh right after I broke my foot, I don't run into him at all, and while part of me is grateful that I haven't had the opportunity to make a fool of myself again, a bigger part of me is always tuned in, alert for the smell of charcoal that I associate with him. I started reading Frankenstein the first weekend in the cast, when I realized I was going crazy with boredom cooped up in the apartment, and I read it faster than I've ever read anything before, but I'm almost relieved I haven't had a chance to tell Rakesh; I didn't love the book, the way he does. The farther I got into it, the more I wanted to strangle Victor, and my simmering anger at the stupid doctor turned into out and out rage when he basically handed his poor fiancé to the monster through his own arrogance. I'm not sure what Rakesh will think of my reaction, but that doesn't mean I'm happy with not seeing him lately. I try to tell myself that wearing Janel's skirts is just about my cast, but when I borrow mascara from Rosie and swipe it inexpertly onto my eyelashes, my reflection looks at me skeptically. "This is just about fitting in," I tell myself firmly, but deep down, I know I'm hoping Rakesh's eyes will linger on me the next time we run into each other.

And then there's cheer. Despite my nerves and my injury, I'm learning the routine, and even though I still have to clump around on my crutches for the warm-up laps, when we actually start practicing the routine, I set them down beside me and try to stand on my cast. Coach Cypri raises an eyebrow at me, but she doesn't tell me no, and by the end of my first two weeks on the team, I'm almost getting the hang of things. The routine is a work of art, and I love watching the acrobatic dance moves that propel the other girls across the floor while I stand, mostly rooted to the same spot, moving my arms and my voice in an attempt to add something to the routine. I don't really think I'm contributing anything, but it surprises me how much I like being part of the aerobic show, even though I'm moving like a crippled turtle.

When Cypri drives me to a doctor's appointment to check my foot (other than that show of parental energy the day after I got hurt, I've barely seen my father, although he keeps leaving take out containers in the fridge, so I guess he isn't dead yet) the doctor surprises me by declaring that it's time to graduate to a walking cast, something he calls "the boot." Cypri is cheerful on the drive back to my apartment, humming and smiling as she navigates through rush hour traffic, and I stare at my foot in wonder.

"I thought I was going to be stuck in that cast for months!"

She shrugs, but I catch a glint of something I can't name in her eyes. "Must be magic," she says lightly, and I smile.

"I don't care what it is, as long as I don't have to go back into a cast."

She opens her mouth like she's about to say something, but then she clicks her teeth shut and turns her eyes back to the road. Finally, after a long silence, she asks, "Did your old coach ever have to deal with you getting injured?"

"Coach Merk?" I shake my head. "I was always careful if I felt any twinges before a race." I pause. "It was one of my biggest fears, that I'd end up injured and have to stop running."