Starting Position

Chapter 30

A plan was revolving in my head. Though the shop had completed the work on my car a few days ago, I took the bus to campus in the morning. I had three classes today, which would consume all of my time until track practice started in the afternoon.

The day had lagged, each class a slow blur of droning professors relaying information that never stood a chance: my mind was far too preoccupied with another matter.

Track practice had been difficult, but I still managed to run at the speed I had been maintaining. Every time I set foot on the track and ran more than a mile, Rodriguez would watch me apprehensively, apparently worried I would lose all the progress I'd made. But I hadn't. 

Ben, too, was looking better than ever. I had greeted him when we first started, but as we were training for our specific events, I didn't get much opportunity to speak with him; however, this didn't stop me from stealing glances his way the entire practice.

*I hid from Rodriguez's scouring eyes - he had been making it a habit to corner me about running for Western - and edged along the track. Ben was ahead of me, and I knew I had made the right decision by taking the bus.

"Hey, Ben," I said, nearing closer to him.

He turned around and met me with a smile.

"Hi, Elliot."

"Let's run, then," I said, wasting no time. I was ready and had been looking forward to this all day.

Ben didn't protest, and the two of us set off down the main street, heading in the direction of my favorite evergreen-lined road. We didn't speak, which was normal for us, and ran side-by-side, breathing in time with each other, until we reached Ben's neighborhood.

I had run by myself in recent weeks outside of practice, and while a sense of purpose filled my lungs as I did so, it still didn't compare to the feeling I experienced while jogging alongside Ben. I didn't have an explanation, and maybe I didn't need one.

The two-mile run ended in front of Ben's house, and the both of us shuffled around out front, stretching and recovering our breath. It was a nice evening, mild and partly cloudy; a textbook spring day.

Ben was coated with sweat, the setting sun pouring through the trees causing his face to shimmer. He had lifted his arms, one-by-one, across his body, when he caught me watching him.

"I never said thanks, by the way – for last weekend – the party." My voice was bristly and uneven.

"You don't have to thank me," Ben said, before dropping his arms.

"Well, I want to, so thanks. Take it or leave it," I added with a sideways grin. "It wasn't my proudest moment – I think I said some – um – well, I wasn't myself."

Ben watched me but remained quiet. I could see the beginnings of a thought forming behind his eyes.

"For what it's worth," Ben said slowly, drawing me in, "I do think you're very pretty."

I nearly lost balance and fell backwards; it hadn't been what I had expected to hear. Luckily, Rocket chose this moment to start barking at a passing mailman, or I was certain my knees would have given out. Instead, the noise created a sort of reprieve, and I was able to collect myself.

Ben swayed on the spot, looking torn between wanting to continue with what he had been saying or to say something entirely different. He went with the latter, which worked in his favor as the front door swung open a second after he started to speak.

"Do you want to come inside?" Ben asked, the last part of his sentence interrupted by Heidi peeking her head out of the door and saying, "Oh – hi, you two – I was just seeing if any packages were delivered." Heidi then waved her arm. "Come inside, why don't you? It's getting chilly out here."