Pepped Up (15 page)

              The party is almost as big as the one at Remy’s house, but instead of feeling out of place, I’m surrounded by all my friends. And we definitely don’t need any alcohol to lift our spirits. The relatively tame pizza party quickly turns into a crazy dance party, with some of the quietist members of the team dancing on the coffee table and jumping on the couch. It could simply be a sugar high from drinking soda, but Brockton’s cross team is in wild form. A great race will do that to runners.

              Ryan is standing talking to Omar and Rollie when one of my favorite Justin Timberlake songs starts playing. I grab his hands and pulls him towards me. I start dancing playfully around him until he has no other choice but to join me. He’s a good dancer, but keeps it simple, letting me be the one to really move. I love to dance, but it’s usually just with Zoe or Gran. Dancing with a boy, especially a cute one like Ryan, is exhilarating.

              He seems to appreciate my enthusiasm, and pulls me in closer to him. Before I know it, I’m pressed up so close to Ryan that my swaying hips seem inappropriate with an audience. We are chest to chest, and with my arms wrapped around his neck, I can feel each hard angle of his body. I murmur the lyrics to the song and tone down my dancing so we’re just shifting lightly together in sync with the beat. 

              We continue dancing together for several more songs, and its not until I realize people have started to head home that we break apart. The adrenaline rush from the race and dancing is starting to fade, and I can tell I’m going to crash from exhaustion at any moment.

              Zoe offers me a ride home, but Ryan jumps in, saying I’m on his way. I watch him discreetly for a moment in the car. His forehead is damp with sweat from dancing, and his blue eyes look soft and sleepy from the long day. When he glances at me, and smiles, showing off those adorable dimples, he looks so happy. And it all seems so simple with him.

              He likes me. I like him.

If it wasn’t for Jace, there would be no question at all what direction things should go with Ryan and me. And what’s stopping me now?

Ryan clears his throat. “I don’t know if this sounds weird or not, but I’d love for you to come to brunch tomorrow with my family.”

“Why would that be weird?” I ask.

“I don’t know. You’ve become a really good friend, and I’ve gotten to know your Gran, so I thought it’d be nice for you to get to know my family a bit.” He pauses, like he’s going to say more, but thinks better of it.

“Yeah, that’d be cool. I’ve never met your dad and he could be my coach someday, so it’d be great to talk to him.”

When I get home, I see I have two missed calls from Jace and a text message from congratulating me for the race. I didn’t bring my phone with me to Rollie’s because the only people who would call were at the party. Or so I thought. Apparently Jace wants things to go back to normal again.

And normally, I’d call him back. But who know what he’s doing. He’s in Michigan, on a college visit, so I can only imagine the shenanigans he’s up to. I’m done being hurt by Jace. I need a break.

Ryan picks me up at ten the next morning.

“So where are we going?” I ask him as I buckle in. Driving around in the passenger side of his jeep has become a regular thing.

“Have you been to Lucille’s?” He asks.

“Yes! I love Lucille’s! Have you been?”

Ryan laughs. “Yeah, we went whenever I visited last year. I’ve developed a sick obsession with their beignets.” My mouth waters just thinking about the deep fried pastry. “Sunday brunch is kind of a thing we’ve done forever with my family.”

Ryan doesn’t tell me that it’s his mom’s birthday until after we’ve parked and we’re walking to Lucille’s. The wrapped gift he pulls out from behind the driver’s seat gives it away. “This is a family thing, are you sure I’m invited? I didn’t bring anything. I’m going to look like a jerk!”

Ryan takes my hand and kisses me on the cheek. It feels so natural, like we’ve been doing it for years. “She’s thrilled you’re coming. That’s a present on its own.”

I recognize the Harding family from a block away. Ryan’s parents and younger brother are thin, fit, and good looking. That’s not especially unusual in Brockton, but there’s a wholesome, all-American quality about them that Ryan has too.

Ryan’s mom beams when she sees us. “Pepper! It’s so nice to see you again. We’re really happy you could join us.”

“Thanks Mrs. Harding. And happy birthday. Ryan just told me, so I didn’t get a chance to bring anything.” I elbow him playfully.

“Oh, no, you didn’t need to bring a thing. And it’s Marie, honey. Mrs. Harding is my mother-in-law. You remember Kevin, right?” She gestures to Ryan’s little brother, who smiles shyly. “And this is my husband, Mark.”

“Hi Mr. Harding, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Call me Mark, please.” He laughs. Mark must be in his forties, but he still has the unmistakable physique of an elite runner. He was a professional marathoner for years, and I think won some major titles. Chicago or New York? Maybe both. I’ll have to ask him about it.

“We should be up any minute. You know how it is here. There’s always a wait,” Marie says.

The Hardings ask about Gran, and Dave. I feel like I’m talking their ears off, but they seem genuinely curious about what I have to say. When our name is called, we’re placed in a table by the window, where we all have to sit very close together to fit. After ordering, Ryan gives Marie her present.

“She’ll get the rest tonight, but I always give her one in the morning,” Ryan explains.

“Ever since he was a little boy, he could never wait to give me my birthday present.” Marie smiles lovingly at Ryan.

Marie unwraps the paper and pulls out a necklace with a turquoise pendant and matching earrings. The jewelry is both beautiful and trendy, and it suits her. I raise my eyebrows at Ryan. “You have good taste.”

He shrugs and smiles. Mark helps her with the clasp and we all admire it. “Thanks, hun. You’re so sweet.” Marie leans across the table to kiss Ryan on the cheek.

For some reason, I leave the brunch feeling a little sad. Ryan’s family is so normal. Two loving parents, and a sibling. I never had that. Jace never had that. I guess I never felt much of a longing for it either. My parents died when I was too little to remember, and all I’ve ever known of my family is Gran. And with Jace, he and his dad sort of filled in the empty spots. Jace didn’t have a whole family either, and Wes’s parents were always out of town growing up. Seeing Ryan’s family like that, it just makes me feel like I missed out on something.

Gran’s hanging out with Lulu, so I expect to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, Jace is sitting at the kitchen table. He looks up from his phone when I open the door.

“Hey,” I say. “I thought you were in Michigan.”

Jace stands up. He’s wearing a pair of old sweat pants and a hooded CU football sweatshirt that used to be Jim’s in college. The soft, worn clothing looks comfortable and it makes me want to wrap my arms around him. 

“I got back this morning. I heard about your race, Pep. I’m so proud of you.” He opens his arms for a hug, and though I’m still mad at him, not to mention hurt and confused about our relationship, I can’t help but walk into his arms. The feel of his soft clothing and hard body against mine is one of the best feelings in the world. Comfort and protection all wrapped up in one. But I can’t give in.

I’m the first to pull away. “You look like you could use a nap. I got your messages, Jace. You didn’t have to come over.”

“I know, but I wanted to. What were you up to this morning?” He asks.

“I went to Lucille’s with the Hardings,” I say as I make my way to the couch. Dave jumps up beside me.

“Ryan’s family?” Jace asks with a frown. He settles in on the other side of the couch.

“Yeah.” I snuggle up to Dave, who is sniffing me thoroughly. I’m sure I smell like friend dough and bacon.

“I didn’t know,” Jace says. “Are you two serious now?”

I really don’t want to get into this with Jace. Ryan and I haven’t even talked about it yet. “I think we’re just friends. But I feel like that might be changing.”

Jace raises his green eyes to meet my brown ones. He tilts his head to the side. I realize what I’ve just said could apply to Jace as well. Except maybe we’re changing from friends to not friends at all.

“Changing?” he asks.

“Jace, I’m not going to tell you everything that’s going on in my life anymore when you keep so much from me.” I watch Jace’s composed expression crumble. “Sometimes I feel like you know every little thing about me, and I don’t know you at all.”

I recognize Jace’s lost little boy look and it makes me want to apologize, but I don’t. This isn’t okay with me anymore. Whatever
this
is.

Jace pulls something out of his pocket and places it on the kitchen table. It’s a friendship bracelet. Just like the one I made him for his first football state championship his freshman year. Except this one is purple and white and his is green and white. It’s about an inch wide – thick enough that it’s held together all these years. He’s still wearing it. Once it’s knotted, you can’t take it on and off.

“Where’d you get that?” I ask.

“I made it.”

“You made it? Really?” I can’t hid my surprise. “How’d you figure it out? You never used to want to learn.”

“I looked it up online, and went to Michaels to get the stuff. I did it on the plane. The people sitting next to me probably thought it was pretty weird that a teenage boy was making jewelry.”

I smile at the image of him hovered over the strings, trying to braid them together without messing it up. “I’m impressed.”

“Took me a few tries,” Jace says with a gentle smile. “Want me to tie it on for you?”

I hesitate. Once it’s on, I can’t take it off without cutting it. And I’m not sure how I feel about having a reminder of Jace attached to me at the moment. “Not yet.”

Jace’s smile fades and he stands up. Dave jumps off the bed, apparently displeased that his buddy isn’t joining the snuggle session on the couch.

“Hey Jace, the cheerleaders you sent yesterday were awesome. Thanks.” It’s an effort to smooth over my harsh words, but Jace doesn’t want it.

“Later, Pep. Good luck at State,” he says as he heads out the door. He must not plan on seeing me again before the State meet if he’s wishing me luck now.

I take the bracelet and place it in my sock drawer. I don’t know how long it will stay there.

Chapter 14

I’m a wreck the week leading up to State. It’d be nice to have Jace’s soothing and reassuring presence around, but I’m not sure if his presence still has that effect on me. 

             
Everyone’s heard about Brockton’s amazing wins at Districts, and the news stations are talking about our chances at winning the State team titles. They think it’s a forgone conclusion that Ryan and I will win the individual titles. Kids in school are actually paying attention to cross and all my teachers have congratulated me on Districts and wished me luck for State.

             
It was flattering for about two seconds. Now, every mention of State just makes me want to throw up. I’ve never felt this much anxiety in my life.

              My muscles are tight all week at practice, and I know that Coach can tell. It’s not fatigue or injury, like he was worried about, but the weight of people’s expectations that have made running less than enjoyable. For once, I’m actually not looking forward to the meet.

The morning
of the big day, Gran is dressed in her fan attire, looking like a giant blueberry. She’s bouncing around the kitchen before she’s even had her cup of coffee, listing off everything that I need.

“Gran, I’ve done this before. Calm down. You’re making me nervous.”
I hate to rain on her parade, but I am so not feeling it right now.

“Sorry, hun. Here’s your tea.” She hands me a to-go mug of steaming hot Earl Grey. I know she’s added a drop of milk and excessive amounts of honey. I don’t usually drink caffeine, but I
started drinking tea before races when some of them required getting up at the crack of dawn, and now it’s become a ritual.

Gran blasts a pump-up
mix CD, courtesy of Zoe Burton, on our way to the meet. It’s only a forty-five minute drive, and everyone’s parents go to State, so we don’t have to ride the bus as a team. 

The familiar nervousness rumbles through me when we pull up into the large field to park.
The butterflies in my stomach are actually kind of comforting, because I always get them before I race. I breathe in deeply, trying to tell myself that this is just like any other meet. But I know it’s a lie. If I don’t place in the top seven, my season is over. I won’t go on to Regionals, and definitely not Nationals. Not to mention that the team is counting on me to win for a chance at the team title.

Gran turns up the
volume, moving her head up and down to the beat of Eminem. I smile to myself, knowing that she’s sensed my anxiety and is trying to distract me with her ridiculousness. After we park, I kiss Gran goodbye while she pulls her camping chair and a huge blanket out of the trunk.

“Go get ‘em!” She raises her fist in the air and I laugh, shaking my head.

We’re quieter than usual during warm up, and I know we’re feeling the pressure of winning a State championship. There’s not much to say to ease the tension.

When we jog by other teams, I get that prickly feeling when you know people ar
e starting at you. It doesn’t help my queasy stomach. This local celebrity status thing isn’t for me.

The State course is fast. There are hardly any hills, and most of the fastest times in the high school record bo
oks are recorded on the course. If I ran a 16:48 at Districts, who knows how fast I can run at State this year? Maybe I’ll even break the twenty-year old State record. That’s what everyone else has been talking about at least. But my time doesn’t matter. First place does.

When the gun goes off, I sprint towards the front of the pack, just like I did at Districts. I can tell immediately that this isn’t going to my best race. Getting to the front of the pack shouldn’t be a huge undertaking, but my heart is racing and
my legs feel tight.

I settle in with the front group, recognizing most of the girls from other races
. Just stick with them, I tell myself. Easy peasy, right? Usually I have to hold back in order to stick with the lead pack. Today, my legs feel like bricks, and it’s all I can do to hang on.

The
crowd shouts over the steady breathing of the girls around me. I recognize our royal blue uniform from the corner of my eye and I’m surprised to see Jenny running beside me.

Shaking out my hands,
I struggle to find a rhythm. I regulate my breathing, but the tension in my body won’t dissipate. When we pass the first mile marker, it’s hard to believe there are still two more miles to go. It’s already the longest race of my life and I’m not even halfway done.

Suddenly, it’s not just my legs that feel heavy and tight. My head starts to spin, and the moving bodies around me fade in and out. I blink in confusion, but it only causes black dots to dance around me. I feel bodies brush past me as I stumble, and the next thing I know, I
’m lying on my back on the trail, looking up at a cloudy sky.

F
ootsteps pound all around me. “Pepper!” It’s Coach Tom.

I sit up and look around. People on the sidelines are shouting, but girls continue to run past.

“Keep racing, girls. Keep going,” an official shouts from the sideline.

A stranger is at my side, explaining she’s a doctor, and asking me questions.
I start to stand, and stumble. Coach tries to take my arm to lead me off the course.

My head is in
a frenzy. I don’t know what happened to me, but every instinct tells me I need to run. Fast. No holding back.

“
Coach, I’m going to keep going,” I announce.

Coach looks at the doctor, who immediately says that’s a bad idea. I can see she’s just a spectator, and she can’t make me sit out the rest of the race. But Coach agrees with her.
“Pepper, you don’t have to. What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m going Coach. I can’t lose any more time.” And with that, I take off.

Coach runs along the side of the course, following me. He doesn’t say anything. He probably expects me to collapse and wants to be ready to pick up the pieces.

M
y legs no longer feel like bricks, and my head is clear. Falling to the ground must have broken the tension in my body because the sensation of running is familiar again.

Most of the field passed me
when I fell, but I start to pick them off again as I move through the second mile. I have no idea what I expect to accomplish at this point, but I’m not giving up.

I pass Dorothy, who actually shouts encouragements when I run by her.
Seeing Zoe’s familiar strawberry blond hair ahead, I will myself to close in the gap. I might not make it back to the top seven, but I’ll at least score points for the team.

I don’t have the breath to say anything to Zoe when I pass her, but I hear Coach tell her to pick it up and try to catch the group ahead of us. “Follow Pepper!” He yells.

She tags on to my pace, and Coach continues to run along the sideline. The race directors wouldn’t normally allow him to run the course with us like this, but he’s out of the way, and I’m sure a passing out is a good enough reason for him to stay by me.

We catch the next group of girls, and I recognize Claire in the front of the pack.

“Work together girls!” Coach yells. He disappears from my peripheral vision.

Claire does a double take when I run up beside her. She must not have seen me on the ground when she passed me. I’m sure she’s totally confused as to why I’m coming up from behind. I flash her a smile but I don’t slow the pace. I’m running hard, and I continue right on past the pack.

Zoe’s heavy breathing tells me she’s still with me.
I glance behind me and give Claire what I hope is an encouraging look. She picks up her pace and settles in by Zoe as we surge ahead.

I can’t see far enough ahead on the windy trial to know how many people are still in front of us.
We pass one girl after another. The sound of Zoe and Claire breathing behind me helps with the forward momentum. It’s three of us now, and we charge ahead like an unstoppable force. People on the sidelines cheer louder when they see our matching uniforms.

We round the last corner before the final stretch. The last 400 meters are downhill.
There’s another familiar royal blue uniform ahead, and I recognize Jenny’s tiny frame sprinting towards the finish.

The throbbing in my legs doesn’t stop me as a pump my arms and propel myself forward. I’m not getting enough oxygen and
it hurts to breath, but I’m getting closer to the finish line, and closing the gap to Jenny. I can’t hear Zoe and Claire behind me anymore. The only sound that reaches me is screaming fans.

I watch Jenny push through the finish line and I’m seconds behind her. I stumble again, and the blurred vision from earlier returns. I feel arms wrap around me, and instead of collapsing to the ground, I’m knocked over by Zoe, followed by Claire and Jenny. We’re a pile of limbs, hugging each other in what I assume is celebration.

An official gently asks us to move away from the finish line.

“What happened to you?” Jenny asks. “You were right the
re one second and gone the next!”

“I saw you lying on the ground and I was about to stop but Coach yelled for me to keep going!” Zoe exclaims.

My legs are weak when I stand, and I keep my arms around Zoe and Claire to steady myself.

“I think I fainted,” I tell them. “I didn’t really feel like myself for the firs
t mile and then all of a sudden things got all blurry and boom! I was lying on the ground.”

“I didn’t even see you!” Claire
says. “You just came running by me, and I looked up because your speed startled me. I didn’t know what was going on but when I saw Zoe with you, I just figured I had to stick with you guys.”

Coach jogs up to us when we get through the crowds. He can hardly believe that all four of us placed in the top twenty-five, earning all-state individual honors. “I can’t imagine you didn’t win the
team title.” I’m afraid to ask what place I got. “We don’t know exactly where you all placed yet, but the unofficial results will be out in a minute.”

Coach can’t make eye contact with me, and I know he’s worried that I wasn’t in the
top seven. My season might be over. But I can’t be too disappointed if I helped us win a team State championship. And I helped in a way that matters even more than my individual point contribution – I helped pull along my teammates.

Claire, Zoe, Jenny, and now the three other varsity runners who’ve joined us, are bursting with excitement. It’s hard not to join them, but I know that later, when I’m alone, I’ll be crushed by my individual failure.

Coach returns from the officials’ tent a few minutes later. He looks elated, for the most part, but he still can’t make eye contact with me.

“Congratulations to the B
rockton High State Champions!” he booms. Before we can rejoice, he continues, “unofficially, Jenny placed seventh, Pepper eighth, Zoe eleventh, Claire twelth, Dorothy forty-second…” Coach continues to speak but I can’t hear anything except the buzzing in my ears.

Eighth
?

Eighth
.

E
ighth!

Not
top seven. No Regionals. No Nationals. It’s over.

Instead of celebrating, everyone on the team wraps me in a sympathy hug. Great. My ambitions have ruined the moment.

I’m amazed I haven’t burst into tears. Instead, I feel numb with shock. All the patience, the waiting, the holding back, was for nothing.

“Coach, isn’t it true that if one of the
top seven doesn’t go to Regionals, they offer the spot to the next place?” Jenny asks.

“Yes. Last year Pepper didn’t go, and I believe another girl who placed in the
top seven couldn’t go either, and the eighth and ninth place finishers went to Regionals instead.”

“I’m not going,” Jenny says.

“No way, Jenny,” I protest. “You are not doing that so I can go. Besides, at least wait to see if anyone else drops out from the top seven before you give up your spot.”

“Pepper, I didn’t train for it. I’m not going to make Nationals. I’m ready for the season to be over, like you were last year. I really want you to go. You deserve it way more than me.”

Nobody speaks. I want to take her offer, and her rationale makes some sense. She had an awesome State meet, but her chances of qualifying her Nationals are low.

“She does have three more years,” Zoe says quietly.

“Pepper, it doesn’t matter if you accept it or not. I’m going to give up my spot,” Jenny tells me. And with that, she marches off the officials’ tent.