The starting gun goes off at the same time the announcer shouts “Go!”
My body shoots off at the sound, shoots off like a rocket that isn’t ready. I careen into the next lane, losing precious seconds and nearly knocking into the girl next to me. She doesn’t even blink, just pushes forward, leaving me behind.
These girls are faster than anyone I’ve ever run with before.
These girls are faster than me.
They can’t be. I won’t let them be. No one’s ever been faster than me, and seeing the back of their legs, the soles of their feet, it wakes up this animal inside me, an animal that will do anything to catch the thing it is chasing. The drive to catch them, the need, takes over my body. Except I don’t just want to catch them, I want to pass them. I have to. I need to. I grit my teeth and push as hard as I can and I fling myself forward, pumping my arms as fast as they’ll go. I push harder, and I pass one girl and my lungs are on fire, every breath I take feels like swallowing a match, my lungs can’t handle going this fast, I’m not made to go this fast, but now I’m passing another girl and I can’t slow down now, I can’t, and I lengthen out as much as I can, and my left thigh is too tight, like my thigh is a violin and one of the strings just snapped, and I stumble, just for an instant, but I won’t stop, I can’t stop, even though sharp pain is shooting through my leg every time my foot hits the ground. Why isn’t the race over yet? I just want it to be over. I just want it to end.
A roar. My lioness is next to me and she’s going fast, faster than me, and now she is just ahead of me with my dragon flying above her, they’re both just out of reach. Wait! I try to scream, but I don’t have enough air. The lioness looks over her shoulder at me, just once, and then she leaps into the air, away from me, and my dragon is next to her, they’re flying away. I have to catch them. They can’t leave me. They are getting farther and farther away and smaller and smaller until I can’t see them at all.
Then all I can see is the finish line. While I was chasing my dragon and my lioness, I must have passed the other girls and now nothing is between me and winning.
I hurl myself over the finish line.
CHAPTER 59
I collapse on the hard track, scraping my knees and barely feeling it because my whole body has gone numb.
Eliza rushes at me from the sidelines and picks me up. I’m shaking all over, but she’s got me, and we embrace in a sweaty tangle of arms and I lean on her and I’m crying, I can’t stop crying, and she’s laughing and telling me that I did it and I want to tell her that my dragon and my lioness are really gone now, I know they are, but I can’t, because I still haven’t caught my breath, I still can’t talk.
I hear the announcer saying, “And the very first Riveo Running Girl is WING JONES!” and the crowd starts chanting my name.
I did it.
“They love you,” Eliza says, beaming at me. And it seems like they do. But these aren’t the people I was running for.
Over Eliza’s shoulder, I see my mom and Monica coming toward me and people are moving out of the way because Monica is pushing a wheelchair.
Marcus. He came. He saw me run. He saw me win. He was cheering me on.
I let go of Eliza and stumble toward my brother.
Monica is leaning against his wheelchair, smiling at him. No, his chair is leaning against her, he’s leaning against her, and they smile at each other. I see that now. Their balance has changed and I think it’s a good thing.
Monica is stronger than I thought she was. Stronger than Marcus thought she was. And I’m so grateful for it. He’s going to need all that strength. His court appearance is in six weeks. We all know he’s going to go to jail. But we got through this; we can get through whatever comes next.
I’m stronger than I thought I was too.
“You came!” I say, but my words tumble out all breathless.
Marcus grins at me, and it still isn’t his full megawatt smile, the smile that could get anyone and everyone to follow him anywhere, but it’s a smile and I’ll take it.
“Of course I came, Wing! I said I would, didn’t I? You were…” He pauses. “You were something else out there. Like nothing I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t miss this.”
A pause, and I know we’re both thinking of all the things he missed while he was in the hospital. All the things he might have missed if he’d never woken up at all and how lucky we both are that he didn’t miss today.
I crouch down in front of him so we’re at eye level, wincing because my legs are still shaking and my left thigh has started to spasm, and I hold his hands.
“I did it for you,” I manage to say, and he closes his eyes and for a minute I think he’s gonna cry, and then he says, “I hope you did it for you too.”