Here to Win Rewrite (Walker Boys Sequel)

Chap. 13

I let out a frustrated groan, checking the clock.

It was 2:03 AM and I still hadn’t been to sleep.

I had an Olympic Scout coming tomorrow, no wait, today. This wasn’t the time for my body to decide to become nocturnal.

I knew what was happening though. I happened every single time I reached my stress point. My mind can’t stop thinking about the Olympics, my future, or what could be my future. And then the other side, if I fail the Olympic Scout, fail everything I’ve been working for.

“Shut up,” I moaned, to myself.

It didn’t work.

I grabbed my phone and called the person who deserved to be called in the middle of night.

“What?” Carson’s voice snapped.

“Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end,” I said, sweetly.

I heard him sigh. “Shut up.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me about the Olympic Scout.”

“Mason, the Olympic Scout comes today,” Carson emphasized. “Have you even been to sleep?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Mason, you know everything there is to know about this scout. You and Coach Daniels have been over it thousands of times. I’ve sent you every article and piece of information I’ve found. There is nothing else, and you know that.”

“I need something else.”

“No, you need reassurance.”

Sometimes I hate how well he knows me.

“And I can recite all your times to you, I can recite Caleb Johnson’s times and Samuel Lincoln’s times, but you and I know that won’t make a difference either.”

“Okay oh so wise one, then what will?” I demanded.

“You telling yourself that you’re good enough for this. You know that you are, it’s been proven year-after-year. You kill your competition, you’re number one in your event, and you deserve a shot at the Olympics. So stop beating yourself up and get some rest so get your chance.”

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thanks Carson.”

“Yeah, I’m the best. I’ll remember that at decent human hours. Good night.”

The line clicked dead.

I laughed to myself, plugging my phone into the charger before closing my eyes, clearing my mind of all thoughts of the Olympics.

“You’re going to be late,” Trevor called. “And if I’m saying something, you know it’s serious.”

I groaned, burying my head into my pillow. It seemed as if my body was a deadweight; absorbing the immense pain coming from my shoulder.

“Get up!”

“I’m getting up,” I called back.

“Look, I’m leaving. So if you want a ride down to the Athletic Building, you need to get your sorry ass out of bed.”

I complied, pushing myself out of bed. The Biofreeze had worn off, leaving me with a pain much worse than what I’d started with. Trevor had helped me pack it with ice packs, at 3 AM, but it hadn’t helped much, leaving me sleep-deprived on the most important day of my life.

I changed into a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt, packing my running gear in my track bag. I grabbed a banana, and shoved my phone and Sheila into my track bag.