Page 34 of No Way Home
Okay.
We can lift weights Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and do obstacles and running on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday. We’ll take Sundays off so our bodies can rest.
Also, no sugar starting now. I’m talking soda, sweets, baked goods—all of it. You’ll train better. Griff might be able to burn through a bag of candy like it’s fuel, but he’s going to be sluggish come race day.
I thought she’d argue—I was being ridiculously bossy—but instead she sent me a saluting face emoji.
I laid the phone down and closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep. But it vibrated again.
Griffin’s Magnolia
Goodnight, Bowen.
I whispered into the dark, “Goodnight, Magnolia.”
Yes, I might be on the edge of a cliff, but I’d be okay.
Because Magnolia did not have feelings for me. Maybe she had at Sole Mates, but my jerk-wad behavior had overshadowed all of that. But if she ever showed a single hint that she felt for me what I felt for her, I’d tumble headfirst over the edge before I had time to catch myself.
Chapter Ten
BOWEN
THREE WEEKS INTO SPARTAN RACE TRAINING
Magnolia was surprisinglygood at obstacles. She got the spear throw fairly quickly, flew across the rings on her third try, and dang, if we didn’t feel synced when we were running. She listened—really listened—to every tip I gave and somehow turned it into muscle memory within seconds.
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. You don’t get into UVA med if you need your hand held. But watching her crush stuff that most people needed a month to figure out? Made her even harder to ignore. Somehow, I was managing though—holding steady at the top of that proverbial slope by the tips of my toes.
And then a derecho blew in.
Apparently, Magnolia wasn’t merely Griffin’s girlfriend anymore. She’d been promoted to full honorary Dupree status. Since her dad was on leave, and she was at home alone for the summer, Mom began inviting her to eat dinner with us. Even when Griffin was at work. Just like tonight.
When her car pulled in, I made a beeline for my room. I puttered around for the next twenty minutes. I put up my drafting table, folded clothes, and dusted my window sills.But when I made the mistake of strumming the off-key guitar I hadn’t touched since I turned thirteen, Mom acted like it was the equivalent of a bell ringing, signaling that I needed her.
“Bowen.” She popped her head into my room. “You’re being rude. Maggie feels uncomfortable that you won’t come eat with us.”
“She said that?”
“No, but it’s obvious.”
I blew out my breath. “Coming. But don’t expect me to be social, okay?”
She gave me her pity eyes. “You don’t have to be a recluse just to make Griffin happy.” She tipped her head toward the hall. “Let’s go, bud.”
I trudged behind her, every step a foot closer to my doom.
When I walked in, Magnolia sat up straighter, fingers pausing mid-movement where they’d been tracing the rim of her glass.
I sat on the opposite side of the table.
We ate in awkward silence for a minute before Dad said, “Kids clean up tonight. Your mom and I are going to check cows after dinner.”
Sophie winked at Magnolia. “That’s code for ‘let’s go make out in the field.’”
“Make out?” Dad scoffed. “We’ve been married well over two decades. We’re way past making out.”
“Eeewww.” Sophie shivered.
