The next day I tell my mom I’m still not feeling well and sleep all day. I get up to have some broth Granny Dee makes me for lunch, and then some soup LaoLao makes for dinner, each of them sure that their soup is going to be what makes me better. They don’t know that the only thing that’s going to make me better is to run again. I’m scared my dragon won’t wake me up again, so I set an alarm for three a.m.
I shouldn’t have worried. Exactly three minutes before my alarm goes off, my lioness nips at my ear. And my dragon is already waiting. I can see her shadow outside my window.
I jog down quiet tree-lined streets, avoiding the ones I know are notorious for trouble. I stay off the main roads too but hear the occasional squeal of tires in the distance. I’m glad I’m not alone, that my dragon and my lioness are with me. It makes me feel safe. I’m more awake tonight, so I’m more aware. I imagine what my mom will do if she finds my empty bed, and I shove the thought away. She’s got enough to worry about. She won’t think to check on me. Why would I be anywhere but in my bed? I’ve never snuck out before. She has no reason to think I’m sneaking out now.
There are no clouds tonight, and the moon shines bright, watching me. I don’t mind. The moon can watch all it wants, but I don’t want anyone else to see me.
I don’t know how I was able to run like I did last night. The last time I was on a track was in eighth-grade gym class with April. April wasn’t much of a runner, so I matched my pace to hers. I remember the gym teacher, Mrs. Turrick, saying she thought I’d be more of an athlete like Marcus. I shrugged and said Marcus was the athlete. Because he was. He is.
As I turn onto the track, I slow down. I should stretch. I try to touch my toes, and I can’t, and even this simple failure makes me glad there’s no one but the moon, my lioness, and my dragon with me. April’s mom made us do a yoga video once, and I’ve never felt so awkward. And that’s saying something. April and her mom both laughed at me, they couldn’t help it, so I must have looked as awkward as I felt.
There’s one stretch I remember that I wasn’t too bad at. Probably because you do it sitting down. I sit on the damp grass, touch the soles of my feet together, and lean forward as far as I can for a count of ten. My lioness comes over and presses her head against my back, stretching me further.
That’ll have to do. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll see what kind of stretches the girls like Eliza Thompson do down at the track.
A car whizzes by, the headlights shining like searchlights and I freeze, sure that whoever it is will see me and make me stop.
But the car goes on, leaving me with my heart pounding before I’ve even run a step. My dragon rises into the air and circles me, and my lioness prances – that’s the only word for it – out onto the track and looks back over her shoulder expectantly at me.
I ran last night. I can do it again. One foot in front of the other, one step, another, and another, and now my lioness is running ahead of me, and I want to catch her, I want to be as fast as her, so I push, and it feels…
It feels amazing.
I start to laugh, a little breathlessly because my lungs are working so hard to keep up with my feet, and it’s hard, and it hurts a little, my lungs are burning a little, my calves are protesting a little, but it isn’t a bad hurt, it isn’t a hurt like the way my heart hurts when I think about Marcus.
Marcus.
Thinking about Marcus does something to me. It’s like just thinking about him is enough to light a flame behind me, because I’m really running now.
Marcus.
I picture him waiting at the finish line. Cheering me on. The way I’ve always cheered for him. And I go faster.
I picture him running a little ahead of me, he’s always been a little ahead of me, and I go faster. Damn it, Marcus, why aren’t you here?
Damn it, Marcus, why did you do this?
My face is salty wet, tears or sweat, I don’t know but I don’t care. I wipe it away with the back of my hand without slowing down and I keep running.
Faster. And faster. And faster.
I run until I can’t run anymore, until my legs are quivering like Jell-O and I’m drenched in sweat, my shirt sticking to my back and my front and even my knees are sweaty. I didn’t know knees could get sweaty.
My dragon and my lioness have gone, leaving me alone with the moon. Now that I’ve stopped, I feel like an idiot for running around in circles, like that is gonna get me anywhere. Like that is gonna do anything.
But when I’m running, I don’t feel like an idiot. I feel free, like anything is possible. Like I’m not running from something, but for something.