“Yeah, I’ve gotta be focused, though,” I say, and the words come out sharp.
“You’re the most focused person I know.” Aaron smiles at me, and it’s enough to make me wobbly on my feet. “Anyway…” He smiles again, a different kind of smile. “I was hoping we could get together today, after practice.”
YesYesYesYesYesYesYes! screams my heart. Lucky for me, my heart doesn’t have a mouth.
“I’m training late tonight,” my mouth says. “You know, because of the Riveo thing.”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “Man, you are focused. But don’t put too much pressure on yourself, all right? I know you really want to win this thing, but you don’t want to get burnt out. What about tomorrow? You can’t be training late two days in a row. You’ve gotta take a break.”
He doesn’t get it. I can’t take a break. Not right now. Not tomorrow. Not ever. The Riveo race is everything. I’ve got to train and I’ve got to win.
“Aaron…” His name tastes delicious on my lips. I could say it over and over again. I don’t believe what I’m about to say, but I have to say it. “I think, right now, because we’ve both got so much goin’ on, maybe, um, maybe we shouldn’t … we shouldn’t…” I don’t know what to say. “I need some space.”
The hurt flies across his face so fast that for a minute I think he’s about to cry out, but then it’s gone, like it was never there.
“What do you mean, Wing?”
“When I see you … all I think about is you.”
“What’s wrong with that?” His voice is gruff.
“Like I said, I need to focus…” I look down again because I can’t take the hurt in his eyes. “And so do you. You’ve got scouts looking at you. I don’t want you losing out on anything because of me.”
He sighs, and there are so many feelings in his one breath, it’s more than one breath, it’s an orchestra of breaths, each instrument saying something different, and then he puts his hand on my lower back, just for an instant, leans down, and kisses my cheek.
“If that’s what you want, Wing.”
And he jogs off. Leaving me alone.
Two weeks later Aaron gets a letter from the University of Georgia offering him a full scholarship. He comes by the house to tell my mom, but not me. I hear him in the kitchen, but I stay in my room.
Aaron still comes round to our house quite a lot now, to ask how Marcus is doing, to say hi to Granny Dee and LaoLao. If my mom thinks it’s strange that I hide in my room every time, she doesn’t say so. I’ve caught her watching me when she thinks I’m not looking. But she doesn’t say anything. And for that I’m grateful.
Just like I’m grateful that none of the girls on the team have said anything about how Aaron doesn’t run with us anymore. Even Coach Kerry keeps her thoughts to herself.
I watch him at his next race. It’s like watching a cheetah. Or a gazelle. Or some kind of hybrid of the two, so much grace and power and beauty, and it takes all my strength not to run after him.
All that matters now is winning that Riveo race. I’m not doing this for me, I want to tell Aaron; I’m not being selfish. I’m doing it for my family.
I’m doing it for Marcus.
Running used to make me feel weightless, like it set me free. But now … now it’s something else. Something heavy. It doesn’t matter if I love it. It doesn’t matter how it makes me feel. Only thing that matters now is winning.
I’m not running for me.
I’m running because I’d give anything for my brother, and this is all I’ve got to give.
CHAPTER 49
“This good for your feet, and your heart,” says LaoLao, pushing a strand of gray hair behind her ear. She didn’t used to have gray hairs.
I’m in the kitchen with my mom and LaoLao. My mom is doing the dishes and LaoLao is putting together some concoction that she claims will be good for my blisters. I want to tell her I can get something for my blisters at the drugstore, but she’s sure her ancient remedies are better.
I don’t remind her of the time she made me something to make my hair soft and it made my head stink for a week. After sixteen years, neither Granny Dee nor LaoLao knows what to do with my hair.
“What’s wrong with my heart?” I ask.
“It’s broken! You don’t have to tell me. I know.”
I blink, wondering how she knows about Aaron.
Then I realize LaoLao is talking about Marcus.
I didn’t know it was possible for a heart to break so many times and in so many ways.
The phone rings and my mom puts down the bowl she’s rinsing and crosses the kitchen to pick it up, cradling it between her shoulder and jaw.
“Hello?”