Suddenly, I hear a voice in the crowd, and I'm shocked. “Push, Aaron! Beat the Zoomie!”
Lindsey's here? How did she . . . it doesn't matter. Her smile and pumping fist drive me, and I find the energy deep within me to push harder into the pavement. I drive hard, lifting my knees as much as I can muster in the effort to accelerate. I hear the Zoomie trying to kick past me. He's a better runner than I am for sure, and it's been thirteen miles of him whittling away at the lead I had from the swim and the bike. That high-altitude training helps his lungs more than the heat is hurting us both.
But Lindsey's cheering pushes me, and I go hard. It's not a lot, but his rate of catching up slows. As I cross the line, I'm three steps ahead of him, and I stagger, dropping to the pavement and scraping my knees on the blacktop. Someone, I don't know who, helps me up, leading me over to the grass, where they've laid down a sheet. They make me stretch out, covering my body with cool, damp sheets. It takes me a while. The world is swimming, but when medic comes around, he says that I don't need an IV or anything like that.
“Nice run, Aaron,” Captain White, who's been helping everyone as they cross the finish line, says about fifteen minutes later when I can actually think, handing me a cup of lukewarm sports drink. Not all that refreshing, but I know if it had been cold, I'd probably have puked it out. “Sip. I didn't think you'd beat the guy. What happened?”
I nearly let my secret spill out, but I shake my head. “Just a fan cheering me on. She was cute.”
“Never underestimate the power of cadets to be motivated by their hormones,” our female tri-team member, Hayley, says with a laugh. She got hurt and had to pull out a week ago, but she's still here helping us all out. She's a trooper. “You put a girl in a thong on a motorcycle, and Simpson there sets a record on his bike. He was pretty close to doing it as it was.”
“Thanks,” I gasp, wiping my face with the wet towel and enjoying the coolness. “The focus paid off.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Hayley says before leaving to help one of our plebes who tried to push through today but dropped out at some point. He's done well on the shorter stuff this year, but he's not ready for this distance. Still, he gave it a good effort before falling apart on the run.
I lie down, looking around to see if Lindsey approaches the group, but she doesn't come any closer, staying just a face in the crowd across the rest area. I give her a smile when she waves a little, anonymous enough that nobody notices.
Since learning that she's an enlisted, our ranks have been the only clouds that have hung between us.
Still, it'd be nice to be able to not worry if someone sees us. That's why I'm looking forward to next month. After the firsties graduate and the Corps goes on summer break, I've got a week off before I start my summer training. Lindsey and I have already agreed to go to NYC together again. We're going to celebrate her promotion. She's getting bumped up to Specialist in June, and more importantly, I'm going to enjoy the fact that we can be ourselves.
I lean back and let my mind drift to the wonderful fantasy that is next month's trip to New York. I can stop being Cadet Aaron Simpson, but just Aaron, and I'll have Lindsey with me.
“So you got the summer assignments you wanted?” Lindsey asks as we roll down the Palisades Parkway. “Sure you're not going to miss the bike?”
“Yeah, that's going to suck. My tailbone's just begging to get pounded into submission some more,” I say with a laugh, sighing happily as I sink into the seat of her old Honda. Since the triathlon, I've enjoyed the luxury of being half lazy. I haven't set foot in a pool or run a single mile since then, only biking with Lindsey on casual, relaxed rides. We've slept together twice during those rides, always on a Saturday or Sunday ride when we can take hours, going five or six miles off post to a private spot in the woods and enjoying taking our time. “But Airborne School looks good. The wings are a nice little perk to have. And I'll get to do Beast Two, which puts me in line for a good position next year.”
“So you're really committed?” Lindsey asks, and I hear a bit of sadness in her voice. I wonder why, but then she smiles. “It's going to be lonely without you.”
I smile and reach over, putting my hand on her leg. “It's going to suck not having you around. I know it cost me a few tests, but I still pulled a solid B this semester. Not quite Dean's List, but close enough that I'm not worried. Besides, you give me something more important than some Honor Roll gold wreath on my class shirt. You give me purpose.”