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“Sure, I do.” He smiled, showing his impossibly straight, white teeth. “Our team manager is out with mono, so I volunteered to go get the water cooler. It’s awfully hot out there. Just thought I’d make a little pit stop by the track to cool down. You guys have all the best shade.”
“Mono?” I ran a hand over my long ponytail. Ashton was the baseball team manager and sat next to me in Spanish class. The last thing I needed right now was to get sick with something like the flu. “What’s that? How contagious is it?”
Jayden’s smile grew bigger with disbelief. “Haven’t you heard about the kissing disease? One bad make-out session and you’re flat on your back for three months. Ashton says it was totally worth it, but I have to wonder if it’s the fever talking.”
“Oh, that.” I laughed nervously.
Okay, definitely not the flu. I was safe. I hadn’t kissed anyone in...well, in six years. And the last person I’d kissed stood in front of me now, grinning as if he knew exactly what was running through my mind. My stomach fluttered, leaving me to duck my head to hide my heating cheeks.
“As I was saying,” I spoke loud enough to get even the texters to look up from their phones, “when the gun goes off, your front leg needs to drive you out of the block, not up. Use the power of your dominant leg to propel you forward, but don’t pop up right away. Ease into it, like an airplane. Make sense?”
The clueless expressions I saw blinking back at me had me chewing on the inside of my cheek in frustration. Obviously, these freshies needed a little more hands-on demonstration. It didn’t matter if Jayden was hovering, bent on distracting them from my session, I had to show them the right way if our team stood any chance. Hobbling over to the block, I lowered myself down into it, careful not to put too much weight on my bad ankle.
“See what I mean?” Sweat formed on my forehead and my muscles trembled from the effort to keep my body upright. “Keep low, and eventually, down the lane, you’ll return to your full height. Like an airplane, taking off.”
Recognition flashed in their eyes and they nodded as if they finally understood. Relief filled me. Maybe the incoming class wasn’t as hopeless as I’d thought. With any luck, there’d be a runner or two within them to help carry the team.
But just as I was about ready to celebrate this new victory, the straining muscles in my leg gave out. The weight of my body came crashing down on my hurt ankle, causing me to cry out in pain. I collapsed onto the track and clutched at my foot, cursing the moment I’d decided to take compassion on the little freshmen.
“Mandy!” In a flash, Jayden hopped the fence and was at my side, kneeling on the track in his baseball cleats. Gone was the teasing grin. A serious expression formed on his face, his blue eyes scanning my ankle as if to assess the damage. “Does it hurt?” he asked, his gaze flicking to mine.
I nodded and blinked back angry tears. Of course it hurt. I was gritting my teeth, holding a long moaning howl of pain captive in the back of my throat. Every nerve in my body screamed at me for not sitting this one out.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered. “That was so stupid.”
Jayden put an arm around my shoulder. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”
“No, don’t touch me!”
I recoiled away from him, blinking away more tears. I’d brought this on myself. I didn’t need his help getting up. I didn’t need anyone’s help. I just needed to get myself back to my spot on the bench and observe the rest of practice, like I’d been ordered to. No more stupid risks.
“Okay, fine.” He held his hands in front of his chest. “I’m not touching you.”
I gulped down the thickness in my throat. “Thank you.”
After waiting for a few seconds to catch my breath, I was ready to try again. My leg throbbed as soon as I tried to push myself up. With a muted cry, I fell back on my rear, bruising both my pride and my tailbone.
“Seriously, Mandy, I know you hate me, but this is ridiculous.” A hardened frown pulled on Jayden’s mouth as he glared at me. “At least let me give you a hand.”
Shock pushed the pain out of my head for a tiny millisecond. Hate was such a strong word. Sure, I’d gladly describe Jayden as a thorn in my side, but I don’t think I ever said that I hated him. Did he hate me? Was that why he liked to torture me on a daily basis?
Or was it something else?
Now was not the time to think about it.
“Okay, fine.” I grabbed onto his forearm, all too aware of his hardened muscles that flexed beneath my fingers. When had he become so strong? “Once I’m standing, I’ll be good. I can use my crutches.”
He cupped my elbow with his free hand and stood up, pulling me with him. It was a surprisingly pain-free experience, allowing me to keep my weight only on my good ankle. As soon as I was steady, one of the freshman runners brought me my crutches. I took them with a sigh of relief, glad to be done with that experience.
The throbbing in my ankle was already dying down.
Hopefully, I hadn’t done any more damage.
“Thank you for your help,” I said, looking up at Jayden.
He was still holding my arm, as if he were afraid I’d lose my balance again. His blue eyes under that baseball cap gazed into mine so intently that my breath caught in my lungs. I was suddenly and deeply aware of all the places where we had skin-to-skin contact. In particular, the area where his fingertips brushed lightly on the soft, tender skin on the inside of my elbow. It was causing mini shockwaves to course over my skin.
And worse—I didn’t hate it.
