Page 20 of The Last Five Yards

Maren presses her palms against the steering wheel, steadying herself. Outside, the rain begins again, tapping against the glass in an uneven percussion that sounds almost like her heartbeat. She tries to slow her brain down, counting the way she does before a race. It does not help this time. The image still lingers behind her eyes: Reese’s smile, the way her hand felt warm and certain in hers, the way she had taken a second too long to let go.

A flush rises up her neck. She blinks hard, like she can just shake it loose. It is nothing, she tells herself. Just a long day. Just exhaustion and adrenaline and the strange quiet that follows big moments.

But the thought does not hold, it never does.

She leans back in her seat, watching the water gather and slide down the windshield in thin crooked lines. The parking lot is empty now, the bus lights are gone, and the world washed in silver from the lamps. She can still hear the sound of Reese’s car on wet pavement, even though she is long gone.

Her fingers twitch once against the steering wheel before she forces them still. Her chest feels too tight, her skin is too warm.

For the first time all season, she wishes the drive home was longer. She wishes the rain would keep falling so she could stay here a little while, caught between what she understands and what she suddenly does not. Finally, she shifts the car into gear, headlights cutting on and reflecting back off of the building. She slowly eases her car out of the parking lot, and the tires hiss against the water. The wipers are moving in a slow beat.

She tells herself she is fine. She tells herself she will forget by morning.

But as the road straightens and the rain blurs the world into streaks of light, she knows she will not.

9

The News

Maren squints as she walks into the auditorium. Between the overhead lights and the stage lights, it’s like daytime on Mercury. She glances around and finds the swim team sitting in the last two rows, laughing and joking around.

Signing Day is always chaos. All the sports teams crammed into one room to watch their stars sign college promise letters.

A hand shoots into the air from the back row.

“Clarke!” the voice booms across the room.

Maren spots Jules waving at her like she is trying to flag down a rescue helicopter.

“There you are.” Jules pats the empty seat beside her. “I saved you a seat.”

“You mean nobody else wanted to sit next to you,” Maren teases.

“Rude.”

“Accurate.”

Jules scoots over anyway, making room. “I even took the aisle seat so you wouldn’t have to climb over people.”

Maren drops into the chair beside her. “You know me so well.”

“Someone has to.”

Maren pulls the hair time from her wrist and twists her damp hair into a bun.

“Hey watch it there,” Jules warns “Some of us didn’t do the extra laps this morning so we could be dry for this.”

“Well, some of us aren’t trying to make our state cuts now, are we?” Maren’s tone is quick and short.

“Ouch, that one hurts a little.”

Maren cracks a quick smile as a small laugh escapes her lips. “You know I am just messing with you.”

“Ah there it is…” Jules says.

“What?”

“Your personality. I thought I was going to have to send a rescue team to find it.” Jules laughs as she gently nudges her shoulder against Maren.