Fuck it.
My run is ruined, and I’m not in the mood for some weird dick measuring contest as if I have something to fucking prove. Usually, I’d be honored to run next to him, but he’s been a dick since we first met.
I make a turn through the grassy field in the center of the track, and back to my bag and water.
I slow down my pace until I’ve reached a walk, then I pace back and forth with my hands on my hips, taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly to calm my heart rate.
When I feel like I’m not going to vomit, I grab my bottle of water and chug some back. Still panting, I run a hand through my sweaty hair. Once I’ve had my fill of water, I work on some stretches.
I sit on the track, spread my legs, and pull my toes back when I see Jett jogging, headed my way. That’s when I realize his bag is next to mine.Fucking awesome.
When he reaches me, he starts his own stretches. He says nothing or acknowledges me in any way, but we’re both staring at each other. There’s this weird tension between us. The air crackles with it, and I have no idea what that means or why.
This is my third encounter with him, and it’s making me tense as fuck. I hate it. Back in high school, I used to fawn over him. I went to all his track meets. Now, I want him to leave me alone.
A flash of memory hits me from when I watched his first race.
Emma’s hand is in mine as we thread our way through the bleachers to find the closest spot to watch the meet. I’m tense with anticipation. I’ve just started racing on the junior varsity cross-country team, and I still have a lot to learn.
Watching Jared Cordier, the popular senior, run the 1500-meters is amazing. I’m in fucking awe. Everyone in town is talking about him, including me. They say he’s good enough to reach the Olympics. Everyone in Cannon Beach is obsessed with him.
Emma nags at me. “Can’t we just go to the movies instead?”
She’s cute with her green eyes and nearly white-blonde hair, but her complaining is starting to annoy me. It’s not the first time, either. I love running, and I want her to love it, too.
The race starts, and I stand, yelling and cheering for Jared. Lately, the school has started calling him ‘Jett’ because of how fast he is. It’s a perfect nickname.
“Go! Go! You got this, Jett!”
Of course, being a freshman, he doesn’t even know I exist.
Emma dumped my ass the next day out of boredom, but who cared? He won that race and many others after that day, and I was there to watch them all. God, Jett will never learn that little tidbit about me. He’s dismissed me enough.
I hate being so tightly wound and on guard around him. It annoys the hell out of me.
Instead of pouting about it, I stand, amble his way, and reach out my hand, trying politeness again. “Nice run,” I say.
He reaches for me and shakes it. It’s firm and confident. A strange tingle travels up my arm and along my spine. I chalk it up to hero worship, which hasn’t exactly diminished. “You’ve got a good form, Wilson.”
“God, you did not—”
His smirk stops me. He leans back on his hands, long, muscular legs stretched out. “I’m messing with you.”
Instead of smiling or joking back, I’m just fucking done. I grab my bag, toss it over my shoulder, and walk off.
Jett says nothing, so fuck him. I hope it’s not going to be like this every morning. Otherwise, I’m going to have to find a new time or place to run.
“What a dick,” I mumble to myself as I walk away.
Chapter 4
Jett
Oneofthethingsmy doctor asked me to focus on when moving to Eugene was to count my successes. Not only the big ones, but the smaller ones, like making a new friend or going to the movies. So I count them, and making it through my first week as an assistant coach is a success. A huge success.
I’m mentally exhausted and physically wiped out, but I’m happy-ish and hopeful for the first time in a long while. I think I’m good at it. It’s all about balance, which is something Dad never understood. You have to know when to push and when to stop. To know when a word of praise is better than a word of criticism. It would’ve mattered to me if Dad hadn’t pushed me beyond that invisible line, where you start breaking little by little.
I’m also not supposed to disappear, to make sure I check in with those closest to me, like Janelle.
