Page 1 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

Chapter 1

Crisp mountain air fills my lungs as I exit the car and step into the hot July sun. Sweat immediately beads on my forehead, so I slide on my headband. Double checking that my braid is secure, I round the back of the car with a light skip in my step.

It’s my favorite day of the year, Mud Down race day.

“Fuck, it’s already so hot, and it’s only eight-thirty,” complains Lisa, my high school BFF now turned college roommate, as she meets me at the trunk.

“You can thank global warming for that.”

Lisa laughs, but quickly stops when she notices I’m not laughing. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Of course I am.” I pull out our backpacks, making sure everything is packed securely; sunscreen, water bottles, wallets, phones. “But also, we’ve done this race four summers in a row. Colorado is hot in July,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“You’ve done this race four years in a row. I didn’t come last year.”

A shaky breath bleeds through my lips before my throat closes up. I can’t swallow over the lump that forms.

Lisa’s eyes immediately widen when she realizes what she said, and she wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Sorry, Brynn. I didn’t mean to bring him up. I was?”

“It’s okay,” I say, even though it’s not entirely true. Refusing to let this sudden reminder of my heartache ruin my adrenaline high, I shut the trunk and link my arm with hers. “Let’s wake up Jackie and Hannah. Their backseat nap has come to an end.”

The frigid burst of air-conditioning blasts me in the face as we enter the huge purple and black tent. Lisa lets out a sigh of relief, while I, for one, can’t wait to get out of here. I hate air-conditioning. It taints the air, giving it a stale taste. There’s no comparison to the energizing feeling of fresh air flooding your lungs.

Jackie and Hannah, our friends and college housemates, are finally awake enough after check-in to take the ceremonious selfie in front of the Mud Down sign. Then, we head out to put our backpacks in a locker.

I relish the open air with a deep inhale as we step back into the warmth of the sun. Walking toward the starting area, I take a moment to survey the grounds. The same vendors from the previous years have their tents up, and eager racers already congregate near the race entrance. I admire their enthusiasm.

A pang of jealousy rips through my heart as I notice several couples dressed in matching race gear, holding hands or sharing kisses while they wait. I thought I had that. I thought I had a partner to share this race with, but he wasn’t who I believed him to be.

I huff and square my shoulders. There’s no sense in letting my past heartbreak get the best of me. Sure, I may have spent the last year solo and in a dating rut, but today is the best day of the year, and no memory is going to change that.

No matter how painful it is.

At the starting line, we all stretch while waiting for the emcee to begin his usual motivational speech. More people file in, and soon, we’re surrounded by other racers. It’s so cool that all these people are here to partake in my favorite 10-k race.

Including my friends.

“So, Jackie, Hannah, ready for your first Mud Down?” I ask as I slide into a side lunge.

“I would be if I didn’t have to get up so early.” Jackie glares at me mockingly. “Why’d you sign us up for such an early race time?”

I throw my hands up in defense. “Because it’s going to get hotter as the day goes on. Better to get it done early.” If it were up to me, we’d have arrived at eight when the event opened, and we’d already be on the course. My friends, while excited for the Mud Down, don’t share my tenacity for it.

“And get used to it,” Lisa chimes in. “Brynn always signs up for the earliest race she can.”

I bump Lisa’s shoulder with mine. “More like the earliest one you’ll let me.” We stick our tongues out at each other before sharing a laugh.

Hannah puts her hands on her hips. “Do you drive all the way to Grand Junction every year? Isn’t there another race that’s closer to school?”

“Not one with this good of a vibe,” I say with extra pep.

“At least we spent the night here instead of making the five-hour drive from Greeley this morning.” Lisa uses my shoulder for balance as she pulls her leg behind her into a quad stretch. “Be glad you came this year, though. Now that we’re twenty-one, we get a finisher beer at the end.” Lisa holds up her arm in triumph, the words “Legal Drinking Age” printed on her wristband.

After a few spirited high-fives, the four of us huddle together, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, and begin bouncing on our toes as we psych ourselves up. Our uplifting affirmations get interrupted by the screech of a microphone.

“Good morning, Mud Downers!” the emcee yells from a tent next to the starting line. “Y’all ready to get dirty?”

A collective cheer goes up from the crowd, and Lisa rocks me back and forth.

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