Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest High #7)

I groaned. “How many were out there?”


“More than just Matteo and your two friends,” he said.

Another party.

I nodded, stepping outside as Mason turned off the water. “Chef Logan must’ve called some people.”

I handed him a towel, drying off with mine.

“I think some are Nate’s friends, and I’m pretty sure Matteo called a few guys from the team.”

“Nate has friends?” I was joking. Kind of. I knew he did, but they rarely came over.

Mason finished drying and grabbed new clothes from his closet. I could hear him as I found my own.

“He’s bartending at that place where Taylor worked last year. I think she put in a good word for him.”

“Really?”

I pulled on underwear, considered a sports bra, but tossed it for a regular one, and pulled on sweatpants. Mason’s had looked comfortable at the pool—I wanted to feel that too. I also grabbed one of his football shirts. I wanted to feel like this, like his, for the rest of the night.

His eyes darkened when he saw me wearing his shirt. He grabbed the sleeve, feeling the cloth. “I like when you wear my stuff.”

“Me too.”

He would’ve pulled me to him, but I slipped on some flip-flops and ducked out of his reach. He groaned.

Heading for the door, I promised, “Tonight.”

“Hell, yes.”

Then he reached for the door over my head and opened it for me. When we went out to greet everyone, we went together.





Two days later, my first cross-country meet had arrived. I had my leg pulled up behind me to stretch when Logan pointed a finger in my face.

“May you be the strongest. May you run the hardest. And may your ass beat some bitches and be the fastest.”

“Hey!”

He moved his finger to Taylor beside me. “Hold on a second.” He turned to face her, his finger in her face. “May you be the strongest. May you run the hardest. And may your cute and fine ass that I really loved impaling last night be the fas—”

She finished stretching and grabbed his finger. “You couldn’t have used a different word? Impaling? Really?” She rolled her eyes, letting go of his finger. “We got it. Thank you.” She gave him two thumbs-up. “Best cheerleading boyfriend ever.”

He straightened and saluted her, then me. “I’m doing my duty as boyfriend and brother. I hope you both kick ass, but Taylor, let’s be real.” She’d started to lift her other leg for a stretch, but he yanked her to the side and thumped her on the back. “We all know Sam’s going to be legend today. Legend, Samantha. L-e-g-e-n-d.” He said it slowly again, one last time, drawing it out.

I clipped my head in a nod. “Thank you.”

I wasn’t sure if he was helping or hurting. To say I was nervous would’ve been an understatement. Every inch of me was sweating, and my pulse was racing. I could feel it through my forehead.

This was it. This was the day I proved I could live up to the hype—and I knew there was some about me. I’d caught the looks the other teams were giving me. Or this was the day everyone learned I was a choker and a failure.

I tried to calm myself. I’d been annihilating Faith at every practice run, and I wasn’t even trying. According to records, she and a runner from another school had taken the top two spots last year at this meet. When I’d visited Raelynn earlier in the week, she’d filled me in. She said she was sure Faith had probably looked in on this runner’s times, and instead of focusing on beating me the last couple of weeks of practice, she might’ve been more centered on her previous rival.

When we lined up for our starting spots, it wasn’t hard to recognize the runner in question. She had the same diva aura Raelynn and Faith had had the first day I ran with them. She walked like a ballerina, with razor-straight posture and her almost-white hair up in a high braid. Girls didn’t worry about a lot of makeup for runs, but everyone did a light bit because of pictures. This girl had a smattering of glitter over her cheeks, but then again—I scanned the rest of her team—they all did. It must’ve been a team-bonding event.

“That’s Emily Kostwich,” Faith announced as she took her spot next to me. Our coach had put us in spots up front and in the middle. “She and I are your competition today,” she added, shaking her hands out.

“Does she know that?”

Emily lifted her chin and turned a haughty look our way. Her eyes were cold, and they seemed even chillier once she made eye contact with Faith.

“Oh, no.” Faith laughed under her breath. “I guarantee she thinks the hype about you is all made up. Nope.”

Emily wrinkled her nose and looked back to the front line.

Faith groaned. “I hate her. I’m not one of your fans, but if you beat anyone today, make sure it’s her. She needs to be brought down a couple notches.”

I made sure there was a deadpan expression on my face. “Funny. That’s what everyone says about you.” And fuck Coach. I moved over a couple girls, instructions be damned. I was going to run beside someone I trusted, and starting a packed race, Faith Shaw was not in that category.

“Strattan!”

I ignored his yell and bent slightly. The start would be any moment.

I knew the route. There would be no surprises. We were on a golf course, and I’d walked it the night before with Mason, Logan, and Taylor. I wanted some familiarity, and today the entire way would be lined with flags and signs, and someone would be at every mile.

Some runners waited the first half, then pushed the second. Others were the opposite. I never had any strategy—I just ran, and with the crowd today, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be needing any extra adrenaline.

I breathed out, feeling my clammy hands. I needed to calm down. I could do that.

Stay steady. Stay strong. Stay true.

That was my phrase, and I started repeating it in my head. None of this mattered.

I began to strip it all down.

The other runners.

The whispers.

The rumors.

The hype.

Faith.

Even that Emily girl.

None of them mattered.

It was me. It was the course. It was the run.

It was my old friend. This was just another night I needed to run. Maybe I was pissed at my mom. Maybe I was pissed about Kate and her group that had jumped me. Maybe I was fuming about Cass, Mark’s girlfriend who’d hated me since high school. Or maybe I was thinking about Becky and Adam, about how he tried to set Mason up. Or maybe it was Budd Broudou in the back of my mind, when he was looking for Mason’s girlfriend because he wanted to rip her up with his dick.

All of those enemies flashed through my head.

There’d been so many, but the one that stood above the rest was Analise. And she was no longer my enemy.

They were all gone. I was done with them.

No. This was just me today. Me and my friend, the run.

Then the gun went off, and we started.