The Opposition

Chapter 8: Carter

I love track. I really do. But it's days like today that I wish I didn't compete. I could've stuck around for the spring season and just spent the rest of my time playing House sports. Now, though, it's nearing the end of January and I'm stuck running laps on the rubber track above the gym basketball courts. Tyrone is panting beside me because he's at this school as an actual recruited runner, so the work never stops for him. On my other side is Landon, who is counting these laps toward football practice. Try telling this kid that football is a fall sport and you'll regret it real quick. He's a few months away from hopping back on a travel team outside of school to keep the offers coming in.

Last year, some guy came up to me after my meet and tried to recruit me to his college. I didn't know the nicest way to say "that doesn't sound like an Ivy," so I settled on a thank you and took his information. I never called, and he didn't either. Landon was screaming at me for not being grateful for a recruit, but I didn't want to go to a subpar college for my subpar love of running. When I go to university, I may never even run, again.

"I can't believe that stupid dance is today," Ty groans, starting his seventh lap around the track. I trail behind him slightly, but I'm keeping up pretty well for 6 am. I'm a night runner. Landon has no problem matching each one of his steps with Ty's.

"What the hell is a Winter Ball, anyway?" Landon snorts. "Like some cheap prom knock-off."

"You both literally have dates," I tell them. "I don't know how. Y'all are dicks."

Landon scoffs. "I am a gentleman. Lena was ecstatic when I asked her."

"Was that before or after you tried to fish her tonsils out with your tongue?"

Ty gags, "I do not need that visual so early in the morning."

I try to find something to focus on when I run. Something to stare at. I used to look down at my shoes; counting each foot as it connected with the ground. That didn't work when people started bumping into me and passing. Now, I look at my hand each time it swings in front of my body. This way I'm aware of my surroundings, but there's a constant that I can always unconsciously look at, while I focus on my steady breathing instead. Running is a science that I haven't fully figured out yet, but I know enough to avoid ankle sprains and second places.

"Who are you even going with?" Landon asks Ty, running a small lap around him.

Ty aims a swift kick at Landon's shin and he falls back. "Sadie."

I choke on my... air. And I'm wheezing so much that I stop the even pace I had achieved and pant with my hands on my knees. "What?"

"You dying or something?" Tyrone asks, gesturing toward my likely tomato-red face.

"I'm fine," I gasp. I feel hot all over and the layer of sweat on my abs is doing nothing to cool me down. That was supposed to be the whole benefit of running shirtless. "How did you get her to go with you?"

Ty flashes a tooth-baring grin. He has a perfect shiny smile. "I saw her coming out of the library. Intercepted her. Asked if she wanted to go. And she was all like 'fuck you. Gross. Fuck your musty ass.' But I sweet-talked her."

"Likely story," I laugh. Ty couldn't sweet-talk anyone, no matter how hard he tried. His idea of a compliment is telling a girl she can ride him.

"No. She actually looked like she was going to start crying or something. She was sick of me and just randomly blurted, 'Fuck. Fine, Ty.' I don't like girls that are hostile, but she does it so damn well."

"Maybe she just doesn't like you." Why am I hoping she doesn't like him?

I've spent the entire day avoiding Sadie. I see her in every class, but I don't address her directly. I don't know why I can't just chill-the fuck-out. Since when did I start having an opinion on her dating life. The fact that I care is so annoying. It's gross. It makes me want to rip off the sleeve of my green knitted sweater. The one that she washed for me. She practically threw it at me when she gave it back, along with some choice words. She even used unscented detergent and it was the nicest thing she's ever done for me. You see what I mean? These little civil moments are happening more often and I can't tell if we're just maturing or if maybe we don't hate each other?