Page 18 of Fly with Me
Breathe, Olive. The crowd noises from the race seemed to quiet as Olive focused on the course in front of her.
“Fight through it.”
But she’d already lost.
No matter how much she tried to focus on the race, the memories wouldn’t stop.
She had tried and failed. Olive took steps to honor Jake’s wishes, signed the paperwork, and waited beside him for her family to come back. But several hours later, her mom charged back into the hospital room with a lawyer at her elbow and a damning document alleging that Olive’s “personal financial stake” in her brother’s death was a conflict of interest. Her mother’s priest showed up a few hours later, making it tacitly clear that the financial accusation was all just a means to prevent Olive from honoring Jake’s wishes because of their conflict with their mother’s religious beliefs. Olive hadn’t even known about the will yet…
In a matter of hours, Olive had become her family’s number one enemy, all because she didn’t want her brother to suffer. Olive understood their anger because she was angry too. Angry because Jake was supposed to be right next to her right now. An ugly part of Olive was angry at him for leaving her. He was supposed to be here.
This rage against the unfairness of Jake’s accident gave her legs a final surge of energy.
The finish line appeared on the horizon.
Olive forced her breaths to stay even.
“If I can do it, Olive, you can.”
Last year, Jake had a group of beaming Murphy smiles waiting for him at the finish line, but Olive would be alone. Did a tiny part of her hope that they saw the viral video of her on the airplane and it reminded them that Olive wasn’t a horrible person?
Maybe.
But they wouldn’t be there.
Still, she kept running.
The crowd around her thinned, so only a few runners flanked her now. They appeared as stupid exhausted as she was. The finish line was less than a hundred yards away.
“For Jake,” she said softly.
After a deep inhale, Olive sprinted the last fifty feet, every breath a knife in her chest, every step jolting her body with pain. When she crossed the finish line, her face was dry—her tears had been wiped away by the Florida breeze. Every other part of her was soaked with sweat.
Olive had done it for him, and now it was over. She should feel a sense of accomplishment, but part of her still felt empty. When she slowed to a stop, her muscles began to rebel in earnest. She took out his medal and ran a finger over its surface and then put it back in her pocket.
The finish line was packed with people. She wove through the crowd, grabbed a banana, and then went to get her stuff from the bag check. A dense mob of runners and their loved ones populated the open space just beyond the exit of the roped-off racers-only area.
Apparently, her heart hadn’t caught up with her brain. She scanned the crowd pretending she wasn’t hoping for a glimpse of her mom or sister. She locked on the exact spot where that photo of Jake and her family had been taken last year. Another family was using it for a photo shoot. Sweaty arms wrapped around one another, with matching smiles on all of their faces as they congratulated the two racers in the center.
Why was she stupid enough to be disappointed?
No one was here for her.
Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed hers, pulling her into a tight hug. Olive was hyperaware of exactly how disgusting her body was as the scent of lilacs and vanilla hit her nose.
Stella beamed at her. “Congratulations!”
A series of clicks sounded. A camera was there now, taking photos of her. It was not one of the normal photographers that were scattered throughout Disney World. This was a news crew.
A microphone pushed in her face. “How did it feel to finish the race, Olive?”
“Um, good.” Just like with the photo op on the plane, playing along seemed like the only option.
“Your friend wrote on Twitter that you were running it in honor of your brother?”
“My—what? Who?”
Olive didn’t know why she was asking. There was literally only one person who would have put that online. Lindsay.
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