Page 104 of As You Walk On

I ignore theooohs from the guys. My heart thuds loudly. I’m back to walking through a fun house version of my life. Upside down and sideways. Reality crashes into me:Thisis what Jay wanted all along. Why he added the Mountainview consequence for failing the dare. Why he didn’t speak up after finding out about KD and Christian.

He wants my spot.

But for what?

“Know your role, Scott,” Coach says, pointing at the whistle and stopwatch hanging from her neck. “I’m in charge. I choose the lineups. I make the final calls.”

“But—”

“If you want Wright’s spot so bad,” Coach continues, interrupting Jay’s whiny protesting, “then respect the laws of the track. Prove yourself. Race him for it.”

Another series of crowing is quickly silenced by Coach’s lethal glare. Jay scowls, undeterred. Me? I’m shaking. But not from nerves or embarrassment.

It’s frustration and indignation and resolve.

“Fine,” Jay grunts, stepping out of the circle.

Coach glances my way.

Wordlessly, I follow Jay to the starting line. Before I reach him, Darren yells, “Theo!” Over my shoulder, he gives me a determined nod.

We have our own secret conversation:You’ve got this.

“On my whistle,” Coach says when she’s in place.

I don’t spare Jay the glance I can feel him giving me. I ease my body into position. Slide my right foot back. I focus on the red surface. The white lane lines. Slow my breathing. Tune out all the noise from our teammates.

Find your zone, Coach has told us repeatedly in the past.Don’t just focus on winning. Where do you want running to take you?

I’ve never been able to answer her question.

I ran to win. To impress and help my teammates. To chase Dad’s dreams.

But when the whistle blows, I know.

I’m running from the Theo I was supposed to be toward the Theo I want to be.

Around the first turn, Jay is ahead. My start was sluggish. I haven’t stretched. The burn is already racing up my legs. Duringspring break, I did the bare minimum, too distracted by everything else.

Now my failures are catching up. Outstretched claws desperate to sink into my skin and snatch me back. Yank me away from my own goals.

I fight against them to close the gap.

Things is, I’ve always loved track. Being good at something. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew running was also part of The Plan. An endgame. It kept me ahead of anyone to my right or left.

On those last one hundred meters? With Jay inching closer to the finish line, his own self-centered goal meaning an end to mine? I mentally add another bullet point to the whiteboard that has controlled so much of my destiny:

Show Jayson Scott who I really am.

That’s all it takes. I dust him.

At the finish line, I double over. Gasp for air. Sweat drips in my eye as Darren hugs my neck, whooping in my ear. A booming “Theo! Theo!” chant breaks out. I catch some of the team trying to console Jay, but he shakes them off, only making eye contact with me.

I don’t blink.

I don’t let him win this either.

Coach ends the celebration. She barks at everyone to finish their warm-ups. Get ready for practice. Then her steely eyes locate Darren and me. At the very corners of her mouth, I spot movement.

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