Dominate (University of Gatica #5)

by Lexy Timms

  Aileen took the last hurdle and jogged to the end of the straightaway, turning around to do it again. She didn't want to think about the fact that Tyler would be going to Boston at the end of the school year. She'd made her peace with the fact that she was going to end up in a long-distance relationship after all, but until that happened she was going to avoid all thought of it whenever possible, and enjoy the time she had left with Tyler.

  He jogged up beside her as she moved toward the hurdles again, keeping pace easily. “You look good,” he said. “Your form, I mean.” He grinned wickedly. “And your form.”

  “That’s terrible,” Aileen protested. “I think you just lost points on that.”

  The look Tyler gave her was wounded, and she didn’t believe it for a minute.

  “Come on,” she said, “that was something that Sean would say.”

  “Oh, now you’ve really hurt my feelings.”

  Aileen laughed, and picked up her pace, gathering the momentum needed to take the hurdles.

  ***

  “So tell me,” a male reporter asked, smiling a smile that was too wide and too bright. “What do you think your greatest strength is?”

  Tyler glanced over at Aileen, who was standing beside him in front of the stands. There was yet another camera in their faces. When Aileen only offered a shrug he gave the reporter a practiced smile of his own.

  “I would say that it’s my drive. If I want something, I go out and get it, and I don’t stop until I have it.”

  The words were meant more for her than for the reporter, and Aileen knew it. She swallowed a smile and hoped that her cheeks weren’t turning pink.

  “And what about you, Miss Nessa? Your greatest strength?”

  “I never settle,” Aileen said instantly. “I always go for the gold. And the best.” She shot Tyler a look from under her lashes, and saw from the corner of her eye that his practiced camera smile had widened into something genuine. That wasn’t what she should say. She should have thought it over better. The media would eat that up and turn it into something cocky. If other hurdlers read it… she was just asking for trouble. She glanced at Tyler. He had a way of making her forget to use her brain when speaking.

  “Aileen,” Coach Anderson’s voice called. “Tyler. Come on, you two. Enough mugging for the camera. I’ve got actual training for you to do. Grab your weight vests and get on the track.”

  “Sorry,” Aileen said, smiling at the reporter. “Looks like we’ve got to get back to work.”

  She and Tyler turned and jogged for the track, suddenly appreciating Coach stepping in. She wondered if Tyler—who was always being interviewed and watched—was grateful for the chance to escape the ever-present questions of the media. She could only imagine what it was like for him.

  ***

  Sleep. School. Train. Repeat.

  In the weeks leading up to the NCAA championship that’s all Aileen focused on. Reporters crowded Tyler at every turn, and when they caught wind of Tyler and Aileen together they followed her as well. They hung out around the indoor track while Coach Anderson had his athletes running crazy workouts. Whatever his mathematical formula was, it was working. The volume decreased, the rest time between sets increased, and the load lightened. It focused on perfect technique. Aileen felt like she had never been in such good shape. They ran the track, lifted weights, hurdled, and continued pylometrics.

  Aileen had never trained like this before and she loved it. She began to understand why she had chosen U of G. It wasn’t just because of Tyler and a silly little crush. She was eating, sleeping, breathing track.

  She never wanted it to stop. Everything she had done since August was leading up to this race.

  Even as she focused on it, Coach Anderson also talked about what she’d being doing outdoors and the kinds of goals she needed to start thinking about. What did she want? How fast did she want to go? How far? He believed she had a world of potential.

  If this was how she felt after her first season, how confident would she be when she was sitting in Tyler’s shoes, four years from now? She had five years of scholarship and she wasn’t about to waste a moment of it.

  She sat quietly on a rare moment alone in the locker room and wondered about everything. She loved the track. Loved training. Was born to compete. She wanted to be here.

  And yet, she wanted to be with Tyler. She couldn’t imagine being here without him. Come August, that’s how it would be. Would she still have the same passion for track?

  Another three years was a long time. Could they make it for that long? Would he wait? Would she?

  “Aileen?” Tyler’s voice echoed quietly from the other side of the door. He wouldn’t be sneaking into the ladies locker room now. Not with reporters and uni-paparazzi’s hiding about. That’s what they’d tagged them as a name. “You coming?”

  “Yuppers.” She grabbed her bag and headed for the door. “What’s up?” she asked, glancing down the hall to see if anyone was waiting with a camera.

  “I was thinking…” Tyler whispered quietly as they headed for a main exit. “Maybe we could head to your place… for a very different kind of exercise?”

  Aileen laughed. “I don’t think Coach’ll mind.”

  “Coach?” Tyler rolled his eyes. “Let’s not tell him. We don’t want him worrying about raised heart rates.”

  “Or pounding blood.”

  “Or being breathless.”

  “Or getting our muscles hard.”

  He groaned. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the media makes an X-rated video of us.”

  She giggled but broke into a jog, with him right beside her.

  ***

  The day before the NCAA championship, Tyler walked into practice with hunched shoulders, and dropped his bag on the floor in front of the stands, sinking down to sit on the lowest row. Aileen, who was doing stretches on the track, turned as he came in, and immediately stood up. Several of the other athletes seemed to have noticed how despondent he looked, but hadn't made any move toward him, though Aileen could see Chrissy and Jani exchanging worried looks across the track. She picked up her pace a little, wondering what could possibly make Tyler look like that. Coach Anderson must have seen it, too, because Aileen could see him coming in from the other direction.

  “What is it?” Aileen asked almost before she reached him, taking a seat at his side and reaching out to take his hand in hers. “Tyler? Are you okay? Is everyone okay?”

  He looked like someone had taken his favorite dream and crushed it in front of him, and Aileen was a little afraid that something had happened with the NFL. Had the contract fallen through? Did the Patriots decide that they didn’t want him? How could they have, when half the teams in the league were clamoring after him?

  “What is it?” she asked again.

  “Tyler?” Coach Anderson's voice asked above them. He sounded as worried as Aileen felt. “What's going on?”

  “The Patriots don't want me to run.”

  Aileen stared, her body realizing what he meant before her brain did. Not run?

  “What?” the coach demanded.

  Tyler looked up. “They're worried that I'll be injured if I run in the championships, and they can't have that right before training starts. So they want me to sit it out.”

  “They can't do that to you! You have a clause in your contract.” He'd told her so, right before she'd tried to break up with him. The Patriots couldn't stop him from sprinting.

  “They can ask politely and suggest that if I don't listen to them they might be able to find another defensive back,” Tyler said miserably. “I don't really see what other choice I have. If I run, I could lose everything that I've worked for up until now. But I’ll still be there to watch you race.” He forced a smile that looked more painful than the pain had on his face. “So there’s that, at least.”

  “And if you don't run?” Aileen demanded. “This is your last chance to really make a name for yourself in track and field, and I know that y
ou're in the NFL now, but I also know that you want to be good at what you do, and that includes hurdling.” She smiled. “And I know how you hate to lose.”

  Tyler looked up at her, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “I do hate to lose,” he agreed. “But it's not losing if I don't run, and I've already kind of won the jackpot. There are a lot of guys who would be really happy to be in my position.”

  “And a lot of guys who would be unhappy in your position, too,” Coach Anderson said. “Just because you have one good thing doesn't mean that you have to give up the rest.”

  “So what am I supposed to do, Coach?” Tyler asked, lifting his head to look up at the man who'd been his mentor for four years.

  “Well,” Coach Anderson said. “That's up to you. You can run, or you can not run, but don't let someone else tell you that you're not allowed. That choice is yours and yours alone. Is it worth it to you to potentially be injured? Is it worth it to maybe lose your job with the NFL?”

  Tyler was silent, looking down at his and Aileen's hands curled together in his lap. “I'm not sure,” he admitted.

  “So think about it,” the coach said. “You've got time. No one needs your answer right this second. Consider your choices carefully. It isn't something that you should decide on a snap. But I’ll tell you something, Tyler, that I know from experience. They’re not going to pull you if you race. They may make a lot of noise about it, but the truth is that coaches want players who are bold. Who are willing to do what it takes, and who have passion for what they do. Those are reasons they picked you in the first place, I guarantee it. Demonstrating those qualities to them again isn’t going to get you thrown out of the NFL.”

  The smile that Tyler tried on was a little tired, but it was a real one this time. He looked up at Coach Anderson. “Thank you,” he said. “I really mean that, Coach. You've helped me so much over the course of my time here, and I really can say that I wouldn’t be anywhere near what I am today without you and your help. You took an awkward freshman and made him into a star athlete with a hundred options for the future, and I can’t thank you enough for that. You’re really wonderful.”

  For the first time, Aileen saw Coach Anderson look anything but confident and good-humored. He looked like he might be blinking back the urge to get a little teary-eyed. Aileen was feeling a little touched herself, but that wasn’t anything out of the unusual. Watching their hard-ass coach have an emotional moment was a whole lot stranger. She almost couldn't believe it. Coach Anderson with a sentimental side?

  “Just doing my job,” he said and coughed to clear his throat.

  Aileen exchanged a glance with Tyler, who shrugged, but his expression said that he was hiding a smile. He was just as amused as she was by the suddenly revealed softer side of the man who trained all of them.

  Coach Anderson cleared his throat again. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I’ll be over there.”

  They didn’t have time to say anything before he turned and walked away. Aileen watched him go, wondering what other hidden sides he had.

  “A softer, gentler coach?” Tyler suggested from behind her.

  Aileen giggled. “I don’t really think so. Maybe just one who isn’t quite sure how to respond to the amount of praise you heaped on him. Although you think he would have heard something like that before, considering how many star athletes he’s coached.”

  “Well, you know athletes. A surprisingly ungrateful bunch.” Tyler gave her a grin, and Aileen shook her head, a smile curving up the corners of her lips.

  She didn’t know yet whether Tyler would run in the championship or not, and she doubted that he did either, but Coach Anderson had been right. It was his decision and not anyone else’s. Only he could make the best choice for himself.

  She trusted him to do that.

  Chapter 13

  They walked out onto the track and Aileen swore a hush fell over the crowd. She was imagining it, but still… it did feel like they had.

  Aileen could feel the muscles roll under her skin, the light thud of her feet against the rubber of the track. This was the moment they'd been working up to for the entire season—fine-tuning the past two weeks, and before that for months, since the first day of the indoor season. Once it had seemed far away, and now here it was, hanging in front of her, only waiting for the starting gun to go off.

  There was nothing Aileen wanted more than to win NCAAs. Indoors was the stepping stone to outdoors. She wanted to prove to herself she was more than a one-time winner. She wanted nothing more. Except maybe Tyler. But she wasn't thinking about him. Not in that moment. She had her eye fixed on the prize and nothing was going to take that from her.

  Overhead, an announcer was introducing them. Aileen heard, but didn't really listen; she was too busy with her own thoughts, and with the feelings that were sweeping through her.

  She had felt like this in Poland at the World Juniors, like she was holding her breath and the whole arena was holding it with her, waiting. Waiting the same as she was for the race to start. To be won. For everything to fall into place.

  For a long time, she'd been afraid that the race that brought her to the attention of the track and field world had been a fluke. That she had only succeeded by dumb luck. But now she had a season of training under her belt, and she was sure that she was going to make it. Not through dumb luck but through skill. And hard work.

  She took a deep breath and smelled the track, and the wide open expanse of room full of people.

  “Aileen Nessa,” the announcer's voice said, deep and rumbling. “From the University of Gatica.”

  There was polite applause, and from one section yells of support. Her family and her team screaming her name.

  There were three more girls to go through and then they would go down to the blocks. They would take their places and be ready. She took another breath and let it out again slowly.

  This was it.

  The speaker ran through the rest of the introductions. The crowd fell silent. Aileen heard her own heartbeat, steady and true.

  The starter took his position. “On you marks…”

  They gave the signal, and the girls crouched with their feet placed against the blocks, their toes digging into the track, ready to propel them forward.

  “Set…” the starter voice called out crisp and clear

  Breathe in. Breathe out. Wait for it. Wait.

  BANG!

  She didn't even think. She flung herself forward, reaching for the finish line. For the win.

  The girls here were good. The best. Coach Anderson had made sure she knew each of them. Knew what they could do, and what she would need to top them. On her left, Emily Brake from NYU. A good sprinter, but rougher over the hurdles than she should be for her place in the championships. On her right, Danielle Rauch, from LSU, who ran like she never tired. They weren't the only ones, and each girl had her own weaknesses and her own strengths.

  But it wasn't those that would make the race or ruin it for her. It was her own legs. Her own body. Her own heart pounding strong in her chest, and she was going to make sure that she gave all she could give.

  Because it didn't matter what those girls were. Aileen was better than all of them.

  She just had to believe that.

  They approached the first hurdle, and she breathed in. Breathed out. Pushed off and up and over. Front leg down. Up again. A rhythm like waves, and Aileen imagined that she was water. That she had wings. That she never touched the ground.

  Some of the girls running on either side of her had fallen away. The race was over for them whether they kept running or not. But others were keeping up. Two of them keeping pace with her.

  One of them was pulling ahead over the next hurdle, and Aileen gave herself another push, gave another inch. There was always more to give. Coach Anderson had taught her that, building her up past anything that she'd thought she could be. There was always something else to throw forward and push with. />
  She was gaining on the girl ahead of her.

  Gaining and passing.

  And then she was through, and they were over the last hurdle. She could have been free and clear, but she didn't let herself believe it. Didn't let herself slow down. She wasn't going to lose the race at its end because she got lazy.

  Another thud of her foot against the track. And then another.

  And that was it.

  She was over the finish line. Over, and winning, and the crowd was on their feet, screaming. The girls running in next to her were panting. Aileen could feel her own breath coming fast and shallow through her lungs and into her throat, but it didn't matter.

  Her whole body was glowing with victory.

  It lit her up like a firecracker, and she thought she might explode with it.

  She ran because she loved it. Because it was the closest thing to flying. But she also ran because of this. This rush of hot satisfaction through her veins when she left the competition behind.

  And this was the ultimate. Only a few moments in her life had ever compared to this one, standing on the track at the NCAA Indoor Championships with the winner's place being presented to her.

  She took a deep breath and let it out again, this time letting go. Relaxing.