Page 139 of The Comeback Summer

We could back out. Relief washes over me—we could stay home tomorrow and watch movies all day. I could put off having to talk with Josh.

But then I turn my head and look at my sister, inches away on my pillow. I take in her freckles, the curl of her eyelashes, the scar on her forehead from a fall she took on her bike when she was six.

The view takes me back to all the nights I crawled into bed with her when I was scared of a spooky noise or worried about Mom and Dad fighting. Next to her, I could relax and sleep, secure in the knowledge that my sister was there.

And now she’s looking to me with worry in her eyes.

“I’ll find someone,” I tell her.

Her eyebrows lift. “Who?”

“I’ll ask my old running group, like I initially planned. Someone will be happy to join us.” I try to sound more confident than I feel. “All you have to do is show up. I’ve got this.”

Libby tenses, like she isn’t sure if she can really let go, let me handle it. But then she exhales slowly, and I can feel the stress draining from her.

“Thank you,” she says. “Want an omelet? I’m thinking avocado-spinach-feta.”

“Sounds great,” I tell her, surprised by her response. This is one of the few times in my life that I’ve been able to take care of her. It feels good, like the scales have shifted toward a balance.

As Libby heads to the kitchen, I pull out my phone to text my now disbanded running group. But then I pause as another idea hits me. It could be reckless—or smart. Should I do it?

The answer comes in the form of a memory. Back when Libby and I first started working for GiGi full-time, we watched in awe as she made a risky decision with a huge new client. Before we all went home that night, Libby asked her,How do you know if something is worth taking a chance on?

And GiGi responded:Simple. If the potential payoff is greater than the potential loss.

That’s my answer.

I swipe to the One+One app. Time to find the fourth member of our team.

Forty-Nine

LIBBY

The sun isn’t even up yet when Hannah and I step out of our Uber at the northwest corner of Grant Park for the Down & Dirty check-in. The city skyline looms overhead, and the open field is swarming with participants, race officials, and spectators. I shiver and rub the goose bumps on my arms, realizing that we’re only going to feel colder when we’re covered in water and mud.

The starting line is in the distance, followed by a grassy field that leads to the first obstacle: a twelve-foot wall. Which we have to climb. Vertically.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Hannah asks. I look over, shocked to see her grinning. “There’s nothing like the energy before a race starts.”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice shaky. “Amazing.”

At check-in, they give us a packet with a microchipped wristband to keep track of our time, a blue headband with our race number on it (I’m 393; Hannah is 394), and some other goodies, including a coupon for a free drink at the finish line. Which I’ll definitely need.

I’m fastening the bracelet around Hannah’s wrist when I see her shoulders stiffen. I look up and see the object of her desire and destruction walking toward us. Anger flares in my chest, and I have to hold myself back from screaming at Josh or clawing his eyes out. I promised Hannah I wouldn’t butt in, and I’m tryingreallyhard not to.

Instead, I stand a little closer to Hannah, shoulder to shoulder, and fold my arms.

“Good morning,” Josh says, giving an awkward wave. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Hannah whispers. Then she turns and heads in the opposite direction, toward the starting line. Josh watches her go, the saddest expression I’ve ever seen on his face.

It’s his own damn fault. But I’m not going to waste my breath telling him that. Instead, I turn and follow my sister. We’ve got a race to win, or at least finish.

•••

WE HAVE TOwait forty minutes for our heat’s starting time, and the tension between Josh and Hannah still hasn’t dissipated. It would bother me more if I wasn’t so focused on my own raging nervousness. I don’t want to make a fool of myself. Or let the team down. Or make them all do burpees. Well, I wouldn’t mind making Josh do them. But not Hannah, or...

“You found a fourth for our team, right?” I ask my sister. I’ve been so distracted with everything else, I forgot to ask.

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