I slip my laptop out of my backpack and set it on the table. “I should submit these lists to Danbury now before I change my mind.”
I’m not fully sold on two of the girls we placed, and several that aren’t making it on either team. My finger hovers over the keyboard.
Landon watches me. “If you’re not solid with these teams, we can?—”
I click send and close my laptop. “It’s done.” I’m not spending another minute in this room with him.
“What time does it get posted tomorrow?” Landon asks.
Raymond pushes out of his chair and stretches his arms overhead. “Email goes out 8AM.”
Landon blows a stream of air through his lips. “Some of those girls are going to wake up so disappointed.”
I stand and sling my backpack over my shoulder. “And some are making the team. Let’s focus on the positive.”
“Says the woman who was never cut from a team in her life.”
My nose scrunches. “And you were?”
“You mean, did I ever have my hopes and dreams taken right out from under me?” He grunts. “Yeah, I think I know a thing or two about that.”
I roll my eyes. “Now look who’s still holding onto the past.”
Landon keeps his eyes narrowed on me.
I lift an eyebrow.Got something to say?
Quinn clears her throat. “Come on, guys. Let’s call it a night.”
Raymond tugs on my backpack strap.
I shoulder past Landon and leave him standing there, not caring enough to look back and see if he’s leaving with us.
And shove down the tiny ball of guilt burning in the pit of my stomach.
“What if it rains?”
“People can still run in the rain.” I tear my eyes from my laptop and swing my gaze to Evan. “You think I need a rain date this year?”
He hikes a shoulder. “More people equals more money. I think you’ll have a better turnout if it isn’t raining.”
Every year since my father passed, I organize a 5k in town to raise money for cancer prevention. April is Early Detection Month, but you never know what kind of weather you’ll get here in New Jersey. One Spring day, it’s hot as hell, and the next you’re breaking your winter jacket back out of the closet.
I roll my eyes. “People won’t melt if they get a little wet while they’re running.”
“Or walking.” Ivori raises her hand. “You’re one of the only ones who treats this event like an Olympic triathlon.”
Even grunts like he agrees.
“Whatever.” I close my laptop and dig my fingers into my eyes. “A little competition never killed anyone.”
“Oh, I forgot to show you.” Ivori unlocks her phone and slides it toward me. “The shirts came in yesterday.”
I sit up and snatch her phone off the table. “Wow, these look even better than they did on the website.”
This year, we added a second shirt design for people to choose from, which includes a space for them to write the name of the person they’re running for.
Ivori leans over and digs into her backpack on the floor beside her chair. “And I brought yours.”
