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I groan in frustration.
McKennaK: For diving. Football isn’t the only sport Warner has, in case you didn’t realize.
I sit there, waiting for a reply, but when a few minutes comes and goes, I go back to my mom’s text to try to figure out how I’m going to word my response. I could lie... I’m technically not off the team, Coach just isn’t going to let me dive…right now.
Like Sydney said, I can’t wait for everyone else. I have to show Coach how badly I want this. And so what if my mom thinks everything went back to normal? It will be, eventually.
I bite my lip. West’s proposal keeps nudging at me. He isn’t called the Hulk for nothing. It’s tempting to let him help. I didn’t know his major was exercise science, but it makes sense. You’d have to be an idiot to not see that he takes care of his body.
But he’s just not an option. I’m sure I’ll get other hits on my post on the bulletin board. If not, I can always go to a member of the exercise science faculty and have them recommend someone.
I shoot off a text to my mom telling her everything’s good. I figure I can put her off for the first couple meets, but I’ll have to get back in the dive rotation soon so she’ll never know my spot on the team, or my scholarship, was in danger. As soon as I hit send, I get a response from West.
WestB: Listen, you hate us. I get it. I don’t need to be your friend. You don’t even have to like me, but I’m offering you a good deal here. I know what I’m talking about.
The arrogance in his text makes my skin crawl. He’s offering me a good deal? Please. Spending any amount of time with him would be torture.
I’ll do it without him.
Instead of giving him the courtesy of a response, I yell down the hall to Sydney during a break in her music. “You want to go for a run?”
A few moments later, her door opens. I can picture her now in her rolling chair, staring down the hallway toward my room. “Sorry, did you say run? I probably misunderstood.”
I laugh. “No, I said run.” I pause, waiting for a response. “A little cardio might help your lip sync routine,” I offer, hoping to goad her into it. I never liked running, but it was always more fun with a friend. “Especially when you win and have to be on the stage in front of everyone at homecoming.”
“I know you’re just using my goals as an enticement, but I accept. Only because I love you. And because I want you back on the team. And because I think once you go with me, you’ll never ask again.”
I chuckle at that, but it turns out she was right. We only make it a couple of blocks before she’s holding her side. I’m not the best runner by any means. Dive practice and competition season have always kept me in relatively good shape, but I’m feeling it now.
I’m just not feeling it as much as Sydney.
“Stop,” she exhales, bending at the waist. “I’m going to die.”
I don’t need to tell her how few steps we’ve actually taken. If I look behind us, I can still see our cute fence in front of the house. When she glances over her shoulder, her body melts. “Seriously?” she gasps.
A laugh bubbles up my throat, and then I can’t stop. I grab her shoulders for a hug. “You’re a good friend. You can go back.”
Standing straight, she throws her shoulders back. “No, I can do this.” She jogs in place, her ponytail bouncing from one shoulder to the next. “I got this.”
“Sweetie,” I say, giving her a look.
She pouts, feet landing on the sidewalk once more. “Yeah, you’re right. Chances are I’d only make it another couple of blocks.” She grimaces. “But I don’t want you to run on your own. Here.” She pulls out a slim canister from her pocket that has a keychain attached to it. “Here’s some mace. Do you have your phone in case you need to contact someone?”
I nod. She makes me give her all the details about where I’ll be running and how long I’ll be gone before she starts walking back home, promising to check in with me if I’m gone too long.
There’s a trail only a couple blocks away, so I head there. Before I even make it to the start, my chest is straining, and I’m gulping in air. Maybe Coach had a point about my current state. But I bet I could get on top of a dive platform and nail it. I’ve been diving since middle school. It’s in my blood.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll show her.
My running on the paved trail isn’t pretty. I have to stop and walk a lot, and I’m mad I didn’t bring music because I’d originally thought Sydney and I could run and talk, so it’s just me, myself, and the commentary in my head about how weak I am right now and the reasons why I’m so out of shape. Replaying the last several months does me no good, but I can’t stop. It always happens when my mind isn’t preoccupied.
The first thing I remember about that night was being woken up out of bed with a loud bang, and then the purest burning sensation I’d ever felt on my right side.
Chaos ensued from there.
Images flick by, and I’m not even sure they’re in the right order. When I first hear my name being called, I think it’s from the memory, but then it comes again, louder and more clear. I turn to see West Brooks running toward me.
What in the…