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I shrugged and hobbled back toward them. Whatever that was, growing pains or hormones, it seemed like I was seeing a lot more of it these days. Keeping it quiet from my parents was becom

ing more difficult. Charlotte used to be such a sweet little sister. It was hard to believe this teenaged monster was the little girl who used to sing Frozen songs at the top of her lungs in the backyard as a free concert for all the neighborhood kids.

Things had changed and I wasn’t a fan. I wanted things to go back to the way they used to be.

Back to when my little sister was still sweet, my ankle worked, and no one would’ve ever accused me of harboring any sort of feelings for Jayden Paul.

If only.

Chapter Five

“No, no, no, that’ll never work.”

I hung on top of the fence surrounding the track field, yelling at the new freshmen learning how to start from the block. They were a hot mess. One had fallen flat on his face, another had stumbled like she was on stilts, and the third had nearly scratched her own leg with her metal cleats.

The incoming talent was...lacking. At this rate, Rock Valley High was definitely not going to be taking sweeps at district.

“Here, let me show you.” I did a quick scan over the track. Coach Padilla had disappeared in the direction of the shot put field. After her lecture yesterday at practice, I didn’t want to get on her bad side again. With the coast clear, I held my crutches tight and swung myself through the nearby gate and onto the track. “This is how you line up on the block.”

“Are you sure you should be doing that?” A tall freshman girl with shining black hair stared at me as if I were going to break. “With your ankle like that?”

“My ankle will be fine.”

I ditched the crutches and hopped on one foot. To be honest, today was the first time I’d woken up without any real pain. The swelling was coming down. The ice and elevation had definitely helped. With any luck, I’d be in a boot starting tomorrow and finally free of those horrible torture devices.

“Remember that the starting block is the most important tool in any sprinting event,” I said, standing in front of the block, setting my bad leg gently on the ground to help with balance. “And how you break from the block can make all the difference in medaling or getting dead last. So listen up.”

The handful of new runners gathered around me, looking eager to learn. I smiled warmly at them, remembering my own excitement as a freshman. It felt like it was ages ago. I’d been so naive. So innocent. So fresh. It was great to think that even if the group of kids around me weren’t exactly track stars now, they could evolve into something great—if they only knew how.

“Set up the front of your block about a foot from the starting line,” I said, leaning down to scoot a block back with my hand a few inches. “Whichever is your dominant foot, I want that to be in the spot closest to the line. This is your power leg. This is the leg that will propel you forward and give you the best chance to shave off as much time in your race as possible.”

Fire burned inside me as I explained where to position their other foot. It had only been a few days, but I already desperately missed the feeling of the track beneath my feet. The grit of my shoes digging into the rubber. And the endorphins—there was nothing like them. I’d just lay in the grass after a race and let them wash over me. It was a runner’s high and I already missed it.

“How far back is too far?” the leggy brunette asked me as she tried to position her own block.

“I want your front knee at a ninety-degree angle,” I said, adjusting her as best I could while balancing mostly on my good leg. “There, that’s better.”

My attention was so focused on getting each runner into their stance that I almost didn’t register the sound of my name being called.

“Hey, Amanda, what happened to the sexy crutches?”

I groaned and turned to see Jayden leaning on the fence where I’d been observing just minutes ago. He wore a pair of dark gray sweatpants, a tattered old baseball jersey, and a black baseball cap on his head. The left side of his leg was covered completely in brown dust, as if he’d been rolling around the baseball diamond. His eyes twinkled with humor as he adjusted the bill of his hat and spat out a sunflower seed shell.

“Just doing a demonstration, Jayden.” I hopped a little to make my point. “Don’t need crutches when I’m standing still.”

“I’d be careful if I were you,” he said, spitting out another shell. “Don’t want to hurt that ankle. I’d hate to have to come to your rescue—again.”

He laughed as I made a sour face. Nope, wasn’t going down that path again. I ignored his prodding and turned toward my freshmen again, but it seemed that I’d already lost their attention. Half of them stared starry-eyed at Jayden as if he were a real-life celebrity and the other half already had their phones out and were texting.

There went any of my hope for the future of my generation.

Why did Jayden have to show up now?

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I demanded, swinging back around to glare at him. Maybe the freshmen wouldn’t listen to me, but I knew I had his ears. He was still leaning on the fence, his muscular and tanned forearms clearly on display.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like, I don’t know, baseball practice?”

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