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He’s on his own with this one. I know the nice guy thing to do would be to offer him so advice, but after the cruel things he said to Rachel, I don’t know if there is any going back. And if there is, whatever is said, it needs to come from Lucas. It needs to come from his heart.
As soon as I’m in my room I grab the cleanest white shirt and jeans lying on the floor and shove on my tennis shoes. I wrinkle my nose, knowing I should probably do something festive for the race to show my support, but I don’t feel festive. I feel like I am walking into some sort of war zone and I don’t really feel like pretending. Rachel and Lucas can pretend everything is peachy all they want. It’s their fight.
Stalking out the door, I sigh when I enter the kitchen, my shoulders slumping at the scene before me. Rachel waits silently with her sign in the living room, tapping her fingers against the cardboard while Lucas leans against the island with his arms crossed. Neither are looking at each other nor are they speaking.
Ugh. This is really going to be the worst day, now isn’t it?
“Alright, let’s go,” I say, trying to stifle the annoyance in my voice, yet it still leaks out.
Somehow, I find myself leading the way out of the apartment, taking the stairs rather than the elevator. I don’t think I can handle being in closed quarters with all the awkwardness and tension stifling the air. It is bad enough they are both trudging behind me. I just hope things will get better when we’re in the crowds of people.
It’s a short metro ride over to the start of the marathon. The streets and sidewalks are busy with racers stretching and the audience finding a good spot to watch from. Tourists weave in and out of the crowds. The streets are closed in preparation for the race.
“Do you see Seth anywhere?” Rachel asks while clutching onto my arm. She gasps as someone shoves past her, making her stumble into Lucas.
Lucas winces and my gaze lowers, finding that Rachel has accidentally stepped onto his foot.
“Sorry,” Rachel murmurs softly.
Lucas doesn’t say anything and I stifle a groan. He could at least be a bit nicer to her. Say ‘It’sokay’ or ‘No big deal’. Silence isn’t going to help them.
“No, I don’t,” I say with a slight shake of my head. “I have a feeling we won’t be able to see him at all in this-”
“There,” says Lucas while shoving a finger towards something in the distance.
I follow his long finger, squinting at a familiar head covered in gravity defying brown locks.
“Seth!” Lucas shouts, making my ears ring due to how close he is.
I grimace and shake my head. The person standing several feet from us slowly turns around. His eyes lock with mine and he smiles brightly while waving his hand. I stifle my groan, hating the way his face appears so gaunt. His arms look so lanky in his t-shirt.
Seth really has lost too much weight.
He looks absolutely-
“Man does he look like shit,” says Lucas, looking as if he’s staring at a zombie rather than Seth.
Well, I guess Seth is pretty much like a zombie. He rarely eats. I only see him at nighttime when he’s off for his second or third run. His body looks like it’s eating itself for sustenance. And rather than shouting ‘must eat brains, must eat brains’, it’s more like he’s shouting for ‘must run, must run’.
Seth doesn’t bother coming towards us. I’m kinda miffed seeing how we are here, cheering for him, but I guess he already has number 36 pinned to his back and his chest. He’s already getting into the zone. Well, he’s been in the zone since we arrived in Paris. I don’t think he can possibly get more prepared. We watch him stretch his arms and his legs. My stomach twists once more, knowing something bad is about to happen.
I feel someone tug on my arm and turn, meeting Rachel’sfear-filledeyes. “I’m really worried about him,” she whispers.
I take her hand, squeezing it gently before placing a kiss on her knuckles. “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.” I try to hide my grimace, knowing I’m lying to both her and myself. Seth really has taken training to the next level. He should know better. He should believe in himself. Out of his entire track crew, he’s the best Aurora has. I feel like lately he hasn’t thought so, which is crazy. Why does he think he need to prove himself? What has gotten into him? Ever since we arrived in Paris he’s been acting like some OCD running freak.
I just hope he finishes the race without any injuries.
21
SETH
I’m exhausted. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this exhausted, but I know I’m ready. I’ve reduced my mile running average from six minutes to five. I had been hoping to get to four, but at the same time, I know I will need to keep up the pace given this is a marathon. Four minutes would be fine if this was merely a 5k.
I put weight on my right foot. I’m hesitant at first. My heel keeps acting up, making it difficult for me to train, but the pain isn’t unbearable. I walk forwards before walking backwards, careful to place the ball of my foot down first before my heel. My foot trembles while pain pierces through me, making it difficult to breathe.
I just won’t put my heel down all the way.
I’ll be fine, I tell myself while looking around at the crowds, wiping the tears from my eyes. I was able to runtwenty-fourmiles the other day. A full marathon is twenty six. I can do this.
