Starting Position

Chapter 15

I woke from another nightmare. But this one had been different than the rest.

I was laying on the beach, the sun beating down me. A gust of wind lifted up some sand and it scattered across my lying form. My head had lifted up and I took in the ocean before me: deep blue, rolling waves matched against clear skies. It was perfect. As I was about to lay my head back down and resume my basking, a shadow on the horizon caught my attention. It looked a person, but they were too far away to tell for certain. They were swimming in the vast waters, rolling up and down in the waves, making splashes with their arms and legs.

Suddenly the person, as if attached to a series of strings like a marionette, was pulled from the water. Their feet splashed back down on top of the ocean's surface, but they did not sink. In fact, the person began running, back and forth they went across the ocean, sprinting up and sliding down waves. The figure lifted a hand and waved to me, as if to invite me into the water to do the same. I felt the initial pull to stand up and swim out to the depths, intrigued by the person who was able to walk so easily on the blue waves, but stopped myself. For in the distance, I saw it: another shape, one much larger and fiercer than the person in front of it. The black mass was swimming closer, only visible when the waves rolled high enough to see the shadow hidden inside. It was getting closer and closer to the person.

I wanted to scream, to shout at the top of my lungs, and warn the innocent person. But I didn't. I stood frozen, unable to tear my eyes away as the large shadow grew nearer.

Another gust of wind plowed through the air, rippling my hair and pelting me with sand. The sun had been covered with gray clouds, electric with energy and terror. Something behind me had stirred, and I glanced back, a crippling sensation seizing my body. When I landed my eyes on the lifeless form behind me, pale skin and empty eyes, my blood ran cold.

I awoke with a start, cold sweat seeping from my face. Breathing heavily, I lay still trying to control my heart rate, which was thumping wildly against my chest. The images were drifting away now, the ocean, the figure, the lifeless body... I pushed them down. They didn't belong here, there was no room for them. My mind shrunk them until they couldn't be seen any longer.

And, just as I always had, I picked myself up and carried on with my day, for the nightmares were just another part of me. Exiting my door, I noted I had fifteen weeks left.

***

Track practice had been exhausting. While the days were growing longer so were the practices. It appeared that we were expected to put in as much time as the lingering sunshine would allow. I surmised this was due to Nelson, who had been pacing the field with narrowed, determined eyes, shouting at runners to either speed up or correct one aspect of their form. The only person he left alone was Ben, which wasn't out of the ordinary; Nelson seemed to treat track practice as if Ben weren't there.

In contrast, Rodriguez wore his usual gleeful expression, spouting compliments left and right, especially towards Ben, confirming his existence. But, as the sun sank lower into the sky, his face began to molt into a concerned one. He knew we were all spent. He then sauntered over to Nelson and spoke into his ear lowly. After a sour glance around the field, Nelson excused us all for the evening.

The two polar opposite coaches still struck my funny bone. On paper, I dared anyone to make sense of them as a team. It just wouldn't work. However, when they were on the field together, coaching the only way they knew how, they managed cohesiveness. Nelson made sure to drill us hard, preparing us and pushing us to get better and better, while Rodriguez was there to offer support.

I was now situated on my couch feeling far removed from my own body with exhaustion. My bed was calling to me from up the staircase, the promise of its warm blankets and pillows very inviting. But that would require me to move my body, and I didn't find that I had enough stamina to do so right now. Instead, I let myself sink even further into the couch, and reached for the book I had been reading on the nearby side table.

My father then entered the room, his expression cautious.

"What are you reading?" he asked walking closer to me.

"The House of the Seven Gables," I answered not looking up, but feeling his presence draw nearer.

"I haven't even heard of half the books you've read." My father then sat down carefully on the couch, as if he wanted to let me read in peace, but the next thing he said had the opposite effect. "Listen, I want to talk to you."

Sucking in a breath and snapping my book closed, I mentally prepared myself. I knew what was coming, I just knew. I couldn't handle it. I needed to put my walls up and armor myself.

"It's about Sarah – I know, you're – well – still not keen on the idea." My father slid a hand through his graying hair and gathered his next words. "But it would mean a lot to me – to the both of us – if you – if we – could all have dinner together one night. Maybe next week? What do you say?"

I didn't tell him what I wanted to say. Not a chance in hell. I would rather starve for the next week than eat with the two of you. How could you do this to Mom? But I didn't say any of that. My guard was up, protecting the fragile shell that existed behind its protective walls. The quickest way out of this was to agree and leave, which is exactly what I did.

"Sure, sounds good."

My father's face transformed from apprehension to elation, the color of his cheeks returning second by second. "That's wonderful. Just great! Sarah will be so thrilled – she loved meeting you at your choir concert." My expression must have warned him that his effusions over Sarah were wearing thin, and he switched gears. "I know you have choice practice Wednesdays – do you have a track meet this week?"

"It's on Thursday."

"How about Friday night, then? If you're not already busy, that is."

I agreed and excused myself. The couch was no longer comfortable, and the book had been zapped of all interest. On the way up the staircase to my room, I thought that at least with the dreaded dinner being Friday night, I would have an excuse not to attend the party this weekend when I got the inevitable invitation.

As I climbed into my bed, the sheets didn't feel as soft and supple as I had imagined them, I twisted the knob on my lamp, and darkness swallowed my bedroom. Only then did I lose control. My eyes began to burn, tears started leaking down my cheeks, as my chest started to heave with a series of sobs. I couldn't stop, the tears just kept coming, soaking my pillow and robbing it of its warmth and softness, until I fell into sleep, drained and exhausted.