Page 4 of Running Risk
CLAYTON: THEN
My mom pulls over to the curb to let me out in front of the school.
She wanted to drive me on my first day, so the carpooling with the Thompsons will begin tomorrow.
Glancing through my reflection in the window, I’m thankful for another second with a divider between me and the groups of friends and teachers gathered before the first bell.
“You’re going to do great, sweetie. At least you know Rylee.” My mom pats my knee.
I nod while she tries to calm her nerves more than mine.
I’ve always stuck to myself and didn’t have many friends at my last school.
I hardly gave anyone a chance to get to know me because I preferred running during lunch breaks, giving myself only enough time to eat on the walk to my next class.
I’m always anxious around people, and running makes me feel free and gives me a clear head for the rest of the day.
Getting out of the car, I walk inside the large, white building and pause when someone calls my name. I turn around right before Rylee jogs straight up to me, her face bright with a smile .
“Hey.” She pants through her breaths. “Want help finding your class?”
I nod. “Sure.” Rylee seems nice, and I’m glad I don’t have to go in alone. It’s overwhelming thinking about finding my locker and all my classes.
“Show me your schedule.” She holds out her hand.
Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out the folded paper with my schedule written on it. She snatches it, and I watch her scan the classes and teacher names.
“You’re in all my classes, except the one before lunch. Follow me. I’ll help you find your locker, and we can go to class.”
I watch as she walks inside, her long braid swinging behind her.
She glances over her shoulder to look at me, but I haven’t moved from the spot she left.
My heart pounds hard in my chest, and I’m doing my best to remember to breathe in through my nose and out my mouth.
Her head tilts as she waits for me, and my fists open and close five times before I take one last breath and force my legs to walk forward. I can do this.
Rylee walks me to every class, even the one she isn’t in.
After the bell rings for lunch, I ask the teacher where the track field is and take off out the side door.
Leaving my backpack on a bench, my feet pound on the asphalt.
The chirp of the birds in the trees fills my ears.
The scorching sun beats on top of my head.
I can breathe. Finishing my first lap, movement catches my eye near the bleachers.
Rylee stands there, waving her arms over the top of her head.
I slow to a jog and veer off the track toward her.
“There you are,” she says. “I was looking everywhere for you. You don’t want lunch?”
“It’s in my bag.” I motion toward the bench.
“Well, it’s not going to eat itself in there. Come on. I’m hungry.” Rylee sits on the bench and opens her brown lunch bag, digging the contents out.
I rub the back of my neck and look at the track again. I usually get two miles in, and I’ve only gotten one. My fists open and close five times. Rylee’s eyes look at my face, then at my hands.
“Do you want to keep running?”
There isn’t hurt in her voice, only questioning. I nod, taking one long breath.
“Okay. I’ll be here.” She takes a large bite of her sandwich and pulls out a book to read from her bag.
Exhaling with relief, I watch as she finds her place in the story.
I quickly pull out a bag of Oreos and give them to her.
A smile stretches across her face, and I slowly back away to start back into a full run.
Glancing over my shoulder, her food is in her hand, but she makes no move to eat more, fully immersed in her book.
The pounding of my feet hitting their steps fills my ears, and the ringing stops.
My breathing gets easier again, and I know she will still be there when I finish and walk with me to our next class.
On the drive home, my mom waits patiently. I’m thankful she waits for me to talk about my day rather than bombarding me with questions. She glances at me a few times throughout the drive, but it’s not until we pull into the driveway that I face her.
“It was fine, Mom.”
Her shoulders relax as her head leans back into the headrest. Putting the car in park, she turns toward me.
“I’m glad. I know it’s hard starting at a new school, especially mid-year.”
I nod, looking out the windshield. We came from New York, where there’s snow at the beginning of January. It’s weird still seeing green grass outside, but I love it because it’s easier to run .
“I’m here, okay?” She grabs my hand.
I nod. “I’m going to go for a run before dinner.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll bring your bag inside.”
I get out and immediately take off, heading straight for a trail in the woods. I’ve been excited to see what our property has to offer. When my parents saw this land, the trails were something they wanted, so I had a place to run and still be close by.
I run long enough that my legs burn. I stop, bracing my hand against a tree, my palms digging into the bark as I look around. Every direction looks the same. It would be easy to get lost if we didn’t have the trails.
“Clayton!”
Turning around, I see Rylee sitting under a large tree across the fence, a book in hand, and Peanut cuddled up beside her on a blanket.
“Hi.” I walk to the fence, leaning my arms across it.
“Want to come sit?”
I nod and climb the fence. Peanut raises her head when I get close, but lies back down when she sees it’s me. I sit and rub the dog’s head.
“Have you finished your homework?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No, I started running once we got home.”
“You like running, don’t you?”
I take a breath. “Yeah. It helps me.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand as her eyes watch me pet her dog. She doesn’t push me to explain more. “We can always do homework together if you want.”
Meeting her eyes, I smile. Usually, kids my age cause me to overthink situations and just want to get away, but there’s this calming feeling I get when I’m around Rylee.
She’s not asking me what video games I like to play, or why my family picked up and moved to a small city.
She’s content to sit in silence. I’ve always thought that I had to do that alone, but now I’m more relaxed doing it with her.