Forever for a Year(39)

*

So, anyway … maybe Trevor was going to see me looking so silly and turn around. But probably not. He’s really nice. But he’d still think I looked silly all dressed up for pizza and I’d be able to tell and I’d cry and I’d never want to go on another date again.

But at six forty-six, which was super early, but not as early as me, Trevor walked in. And he was wearing jeans, but he also had nice black shoes on and a button-down shirt AND A SPORTS JACKET. Oh my gosh, he got dressed up too. I stood up and we hugged, and I felt like we were so grown-up. Except I’m sure grown-ups never feel grown-up, they just are. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.

We both wanted to look nice for our first date because we both wanted our first date to be amazing, and it was amazing that we both wanted it to be amazing.





30

Trevor doesn’t stick to the plan

So even though Coach Pasquini told me how great I was running, he screwed me over for the race. I had been finishing every practice the past week right ahead of or right behind the sophomores Aaron and Tor. So I was one of the top-ten fastest on the team, and that included Conchita, who would, of course, run the girls’ race.

Cross-country teams are made up of seven runners, and the top five placements count toward your team’s total. You want the lowest score because first place counts as only one point, second place two points, and so on. I thought there was a small chance I would run varsity even though that was the top seven runners. I thought maybe Pasquini would decide to make a big bold choice, like they do in sports movies, and then I would win or finish just behind All-State favorite Todd Kishkin, and a new star would be born.

Even if that stupid fantasy didn’t happen, and Pasquini made the more obvious choices for varsity, I thought for sure he’d have me run with junior varsity. That only required me to be top fourteen, and I was one of the top nine boys!

But nope. Nope. I was put with the freshmen. The freshmen. I couldn’t look Pasquini in the eye after he announced it on the bus to the meet Saturday morning. I said, in my head, “Screw this,” and I decided I was going to quit after the race. My coach hates me! How am I supposed to be a part of a team where the coach hates me?

I’d win. I knew it. I was better, by far, than every other freshman at our school, so I knew I’d be better than all the freshmen at Barrington and Libertyville too. Pasquini kept trying to corner me before the race, but I avoided him. No reason to talk. I just needed to race. So after they fired the gun, I started out fast. I ignored Pasquini’s strategy to have me always fall behind the lead pack. No one kept pace with me. I’d show him. I’d have a faster time than anyone on junior varsity and all of varsity too, and then Pasquini would feel like such crap when I quit the team. I could have been his best runner ever, and he lost me because he betrayed me.

Yeah.

Except …

I couldn’t keep up my pace. I hadn’t expected to run that fast the whole race, but I started slowing sooner than I’d thought I would. How fast had I been going? Maybe too fast. Maybe way too fast. A little freshman named Kareem, maybe five feet five and looking like he could be Lily’s age, ran past me not even one-third into the race. I tried to match his strides for a bit, but … no way. The kid was Olympic quality. I slowed. Let him go. Then the lead pack hunted me down and I tried to stay in front of them, then in the middle, then at the back. Nope. I wasn’t staying behind the lead pack today. Not after I blew my legs on that sprint at the start.

So I finished the freshman race in eleventh place. I couldn’t walk afterward. My legs hated me too much. I had to sit on my butt in the middle of the grass and just let everyone else hover over me, hugging their parents or friends, celebrating what a great job they’d done. I’d told my parents this was just another practice and I had no friends. So no one hugged me. Or talked to me. Carolina had wanted to come. But I would have hated her if she’d seen me run like such a loser.

Pasquini finally managed to talk to me. Couldn’t avoid him if I couldn’t get off my ass.

He said, “That’s why I ran you with the freshmen.”

“Because I suck?”

“No, because you needed to learn that even if you’re the best runner in the race—and YOU WERE—if you don’t stick to the plan that made you good, you’re going to lose.”

Whatever.

But. Yeah. Okay. I won’t quit. Not yet.

*

When I got home, Carolina texted me, asking me about the race. She was really nice. I thought about calling her up and talking to her about how I messed up, what Coach had said. I might have suggested we meet earlier. Why spend the whole afternoon alone if I could be with her? Then I thought she would have other plans and would tell me no and I’d feel even worse. So I just texted her that we could talk later. It made me sound cooler, I think. Or at least less interested in her, which is cool? I don’t know. Whatever.

I went into my room and decided to lie down. Maybe I needed …

Yep. Napped. Great nap. Woke up, panicked that I had slept through my date, but I still had an hour. I got to see Carolina in less than an hour. Our first real date. My brain did not know how to handle how excited the rest of me was.

*

My dad drove me to Lou Malnati’s in downtown Riverbend, gave me five twenties even though the pizza and sodas and even a salad wouldn’t cost more than thirty. He’d never ask for change, which was good, because I was saving money in case I needed to start a new life. I might. If Carolina stopped liking me, and Lily stopped being the best (she wouldn’t, but let’s just say), then I really would run away. I’d be in control for the first time in my life.