Page 80 of Maybe We Can Fake It

He’d believe that I got roped into doing this with Brenden without anything else sketchy going on, but he’d definitely give me shit for it. He knows I hate town stuff.

“Ready?” Brenden asks as he steps in front of me, facing the line that’s been taped across the field.

“No.”

He laughs and crouches down, placing his hands in the grass. “Come on, grab my ankles.”

I swear under my breath for good measure, but do what he says, raising his legs up in the air behind him as he uses his arms for balance. This is going to end with someone breaking a limb.

Glancing over at Elise, who is two people away from me, I worry for a moment. But she’s smiling as she holds up May’s legs. At least May is light.

“Go as fast as you can and I’ll try to keep up,” Brenden tells me.

That sounds like a terrible strategy, but then Roddy yells, “On your marks, get set, go!” and I don’t have time to argue. I just go.

It’s awkward running like this, supporting most of Brenden’s weight so he doesn’t face plant in the grass, while also trying not to knock into him. But we find a rhythm pretty quickly, and I’m able to pick up the pace. It’s hard to tell how anyone else is doing, because I’m afraid to let my eyes veer off course. In my periphery, though, I notice as we pull ahead of some people.

And maybe I get too confident. Because the next thing I know, I’m sort of toppling over Brenden as his legs swing in a wild arc through the air and he winds up on his back with me half on top of him. A whoosh of air leaves my lungs as I land.

“Shit! Are you okay?” I ask, rolling off him.

When he doesn’t move, I panic, but then I realize he’s actually shaking with silent laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him.

“It was my fault, my hand slipped,” he says. “But hurry up, get me back into position! We can still finish.”

I eye him critically, but he quickly pushes himself onto all fours and insists, “Come on, come on!”

Ignoring the slight ache in my knees as I stand, I hoist his legs up in the air again. Those teams we’ve pulled ahead of have allpassed us now, but Brenden’s clearly not a quitter, and I guess I’m not either.

As we start moving again, I’m cautiously building up speed, and then I see May with her hands on the ground, coming up beside Brenden. She and Elise must be going a little crooked, but at least they’re still going. May sticks her tongue out at her dad when she’s beside him, and Brenden laughs.

I keep pace with Elise, not fighting too hard to beat them. I don’t want to fall again, plus I wouldn’t mind watching May gloat to Brenden if they finish before us. But Brenden yells at me, “Go, go! Faster!” and my body just obeys him as we edge them out.

I’m winded when we cross the finish line, but relieved we’re in one piece. While we don’t come in last, and we’re apparently not the only ones who fell, we’ve got to be in the bottom half of the rankings. And I immediately feel guilty for letting Brenden down. Even though he said it was his fault that his hand slipped, I feel like the blame is on me for going too fast for him to keep up.

That’s why I’m determined to win the next event, even if I groan when I hear it’s a three-legged race. Fuck these races. I enjoy running, but certainly not like this.

A volunteer comes over to us and ties my right leg to Brenden’s left one, from knee to ankle. I feel ridiculous, and this seems even more dangerous than the wheelbarrow race. But I can’t say I mind being tied to him like this.

He slips his arm around my waist and gazes up at me with his painfully lovely blue eyes. “Thank you again for doing this. I know you hate it.”

It must be the eyes that get to me and have the words, “Anything for you,” slipping out of my mouth without my permission.

He sucks in a small breath, and I want to kiss the surprise off his face. But I also kind of want to find a hole to bury myself in, because what the fuck. That was closer to confessing my feelings for him than I’m comfortable with.

Before I can do anything, though, Roddy shouts, “Places!” and we sort of hobble our way over to the starting line. I mirror Brenden by wrapping my arm tightly around his waist so we can support each other. Then the race begins, and I do my best to call out directions so we can move together, but it’s confusing, and we stumble a bit too much.

It seems a lot of teams are struggling. Some fall behind, but no one really pulls ahead. Brenden and I manage to keep up with the top of the pack, despite our lack of coordination. The closer we get to the finish line, the more determined I become, squeezing him to me tighter as I propel us forward.

When I see the O’Brien twins pulling out in front of us, I know we can’t afford to let them win after they came in second to us in the egg toss. So I push myself to go faster and end up practically carrying Brenden over the line, where we collapse together in a heap.

We’re both huffing for breath, but we won.

“Oh my god!” Brenden pants. “That was awesome! You were awesome!”

“You deserve to win,” I tell him plainly.

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