Page 47 of Wylder and the Almost Rockstar
And then Logan walked away, leaving her in a puddle behind him.
“Ready?” Devyn asked.
Wylder nodded.
They started off at a slow pace as they made their way down the hill from the dorms. And it wasn’t enough. The steady steps did nothing to erase Logan from her mind, nothing to distract her.
She needed more.
Speeding up, she passed Devyn and Killian. They matched her pace, coming up on either side of her. Killian gave her a strange look, but she didn’t, couldn’t stop. The faster she went, the more her mind filled with the steady beating of her heart.
Thump. Thump. There was no room for anything else. Blood rushed in her ears as she gulped in air, trying to even her breath. Her legs burned, but it felt good.
Pumping her arms, she ran faster.
“We aren’t sprinting, Wylder,” Devyn yelled.
“Let her work this out,” she heard Killian say behind her.
As her best friend, of course he’d know something was up. Wylder didn’t run for the fun of it or for the exercise. She ran away from her own thoughts, from the sleeplessness brought on by a certain obnoxious boy, one who’d brought her back to drums and stood on stage beside her before his world was turned upside down.
A boy who only sang on stage because she’d made him. He thought all of Luke’s problems were his fault, but he was wrong.
They were hers.
She’d avoided the truth before now. They could have performed their song from the side of the stage while the holograms danced across the platform. They could have remained out of view—even after the holograms glitched.
Faster and faster still, she didn’t let the pain throbbing in her legs stop her. In the distance, she could see the lake glittering in the early morning sun. A sun that provided little warmth. But that didn’t matter. Not when heat seared down her limbs and adrenaline raced in her veins.
Killian and Devyn ran a few paces behind her. She knew they could probably match this speed without the burning, the gasping for breath. They were athletes, and Wylder was just a troublemaking junk food junkie who kissed the wrong boy.
No one ever would have claimed she made smart life decisions.
But this… Logan was a friend. A good friend. That was worse than kissing a teacher. She couldn’t lose him. And yet, all she wanted was to kiss him again.
Vibrations skated up her legs as her feet pounded into the stone path. Almost to the lake. She just had to make it that far before slowing.
She could do it.
She could do anything.
The ring of grass circling the lake was soft underfoot, a welcome change from the hard path leading to it. This close, tall reeds obscured the water from view.
Dampness from the frost seeped into her shoes, but she didn’t care. As she slowed, her legs shook, protesting further movement.
How did runners do this every day? How did they go for miles and miles?
Wylder had probably run a single mile, and her knees buckled. She pitched forward, tumbling to the grass and rolling onto her back. Flopping her legs out, she put a hand over her pounding heart.
Killian and Devyn both jogged in place as they looked down at her.
“You went too fast,” Devyn admonished. “You have to pace yourself.”
Wylder ignored her and patted the grass. “Come on. Take a break.”
“It’s not healthy to just stop suddenly. You have to cool down.”
Killian flopped down next to Wylder, defying Devyn. “Come on, Dev. Wylder obviously needs us.” He reached down, threading his fingers through Wylder’s.
