The Column Racer

by Jeffrey Johnson

  “You know what I do,” said Aubrie, “I find a really quiet place. Someplace just for me. And I close my eyes. I picture the look of the sky, the push of the air, the smell of freedom, and I soar. Me and my dragon, we still soar.” She held Areli’s gaze, and pointed to her head. “With this Areli, you can always fly. You can go anywhere.” Areli smiled at her. And they went back to looking out across the sand.

  After practice, Aubrie wished Areli good luck with the whole partner thing and all, reminding her that it probably wouldn’t be all that bad.

  “Just keep an open heart,” said Aubrie, “who knows, you just might enjoy her company.” Areli gave her a face and then pretended to be puking, causing Aubrie to laugh and then shake her head. The bath and spa seemed like it came and went with the swiftness of a light wind. Areli was trying desperately to take up as much time as she possibly could, but riders were to exit the facility together. This diminished any chance of staying in the facility longer, unless she wanted to endure the whining of her teammates.

  As the carriages drove through the city streets, Areli wished she didn’t invite her partner to her house. But she didn’t want to have to suffer through the latter, no matter how curious she was. As her driver pulled into her drive, she knew that her partner’s carriage was already there. Areli got out and looked at the person standing there. Her hawk face, dark, blonde hair, and perfectly tanned skin. She was beautiful, but Areli would never bring herself to admit it.

  Her mother came out of the door with nothing but smiles. She hugged Areli, and then awaited an introduction.

  “Mother this is Fidelja Bird,” said Areli, “Fidelja, this is my mother, Arina.” The two gently shook hands. “And this is our estate manager, Aria.” When they entered into the foyer, Aria asked where it was Areli planned for them to practice their song. The most preferable place was the living room, but after yesterday, and with the newly acquired furniture, Areli knew both Aria and her mother would both hesitate for her to go in there, which didn’t matter to her. She wished not to go into that room for a while anyway. So, the only real option . . . was unfortunately, her bedroom.

  “Areli, dear,” said her mother, “I know you girls had a long day at practice. So, I had the chefs prepare for you and Fidelja a meal.” Areli could feel her jaw clamp together as she stared holes into her mother’s face.

  “It’s more like a snack,” said her mother, trying to keep Areli’s anger at bay. Areli couldn’t believe her mother was doing this to her. This was her biggest competition . . . and they were about to feed her. What they should be doing is sneaking her little slices of apples and leave Fidelja to starve, allowing Areli to relish in Fidelja’s hunger pangs.

  “Fine,” said Areli to break the silence, “whatever.” Her mother almost couldn’t control her excitement. When she was enthusiastic, she had a tendency to clap her hands together in rapid succession and then hold them to her lips. Her mother got in one clap, as the rest was halted by the sting in Areli’s stare.

  Her mother refocused and brought the girls into the dining room. And just as Areli had expected, it was not a snack . . . but a feast. They had everything imaginable on the table. There was a platter of steaks, chicken wings, and every assortment of potatoes cooked in every which way. Every color of fruit and vegetable, a whole turkey, and a rack of ribs. Nothing in the pantry was left untouched, uncooked, or un-served.

  “I didn’t know exactly what to cook,” said her mother, “so I just asked the chefs to cook a bit of everything.” Servants opened chairs for them. Areli was seated at her usual corner spot, and Fidelja was placed at her side. Areli refused to hide her disgust. She wished she could have asked the servants to situate Fidelja at the other end of the table. That way she could have at least eaten in peace.

  The dining servants laid silk cloths in their laps and waited to hear what they wanted to eat. Areli looked at Fides, who conceded for Areli to choose first. Areli looked across the table, which was packed with foods that she only normally allowed herself to eat during the first month that followed the final race of the season. It was the worst kind of torture. She couldn’t believe her mother. Making dinner for the enemy. And then tormenting her with tantalizing dishes that she couldn’t eat. She wanted to scream.

  “I’ll just have an apple,” said Areli to her dining servant, “one of the green ones, and maybe a carrot.” The servant grabbed her plate, placed the things she requested on it, and then splayed it out in front of her. Areli then looked at Fidelja, expecting her to pick much of the same.

  She watched as Fidelja, looked about the table, her eyes lighting up at a particular dish, and then moving around to another.

  “Um . . . can I have the lamb, two chicken wings, a portion of steak, and what are those?”

  “Those are garlic mashed potatoes, miss,” said the servant, “with a coat of fresh herbs.” To Areli’s surprise she asked for a scoop of that, followed by servings of nearly everything on the table. The servant actually had to use more than one plate to gather it all.

  Areli stared at Fidelja as she started to cut her steak, which was a perfect red. Areli then looked at her apple and then her carrot. She picked up the round green thing that fit perfectly in her hand and let it roll around in her fingers. She was about to take a bite, when Fidelja’s expression distracted her. It was one of delight. Fidelja seemed to be making out with the bit of steak that both repulsed Areli, but also made her envious. Fidelja went to cut off another bite.

  Areli cleared her throat. Her expression that of annoyance and exhaustion. Fidelja relaxed her shoulders and looked at her.

  “Don’t you watch your weight during season?” asked Areli. Fidelja looked at her and blinked.

  “I normally don’t get to eat foods like this,” said Fidelja, “at least not in my own household.”

  “Well, can you at least not make such a scene about it,” said Areli with a scowl, taking a bite out of her apple and then looking the other way, unaware that she was crossing her arms.

  “I’m sorry,” said Fidelja, “I didn’t know I was making a scene.”

  “Well,” said Areli, staring at her, hard, “you were.” Areli tried not to regret her words. Why was she feeling bad? Why was there a sliver of pity tainting the anger in her heart? She had to turn away. Look away, Areli, she told herself.

  “I’m sorry . . . Areli,” said Fidelja, softly. Why? thought Areli, almost wanting to cry, why does she have to be nice? Can’t she hate like I hate? It would be so much simpler if Fidelja loathed her, disrespected her, wanted nothing to do with her. But her demeanor said otherwise.

  “You don’t have to apologize,” said Areli, now bent on making Fidelja understand the wrongness of the situation, “you should be mad. You should hate me to your very core. I mean we share the same trainer. And she picked me – ME – over you. Aren’t you at all uncomfortable? Aren’t you jealous? Don’t you just want to rip my eyes out or something?” Fidelja looked at her, just looked.

  “No . . . no not really.”

  “Then what?” asked Areli exasperated, “do you want?”

  “I want to get a good grade in chorus.” Areli didn’t know how to respond. Was she supposed to be angry, frustrated, or ashamed?

  “Listen – Areli,” said Fidelja in a gentle voice, “you don’t have to tell me this is unconventional, or even uncomfortable, or slightly weird. But it is what it is. We can both sit here and tear each other’s heads off, or we can act like two girls who simply have to sing a song together.” Areli looked at her . . . and the ashamed option started to kick in. She held her arms close to her body, as if trying to comfort herself. She felt empty, bruised. How could she seem so childish?

  Fidelja wouldn’t look away from her. Areli wished she had. Didn’t she already do enough damage? Areli knew she had to apologize, but she had never had to apologize before to anyone, except her parents. Her stomach turned to knots. She had to rush her hands across her face as tears started to come from her eyes. She couldn’t st
and being near this person, but now it was not out of hate for Fidelja, but out of shame of herself. Areli’s face was red, nose sniffling, and tears flowing from her eyes. Fidelja placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Areli didn’t brush it away.

  As the weeks passed, Areli and Fidelja became inseparable. After classes and practices, they would spend every evening together. They would spend time at Areli’s house and at Fidelja’s enormous house, which was almost as beautiful as the houses across the lake. Fidelja and Areli would do homework together at Fidelja’s favorite restaurants, like The Dragon Hold, The Abhi Grill, and Flame. The owners of each would let them eat for free as they knew Fidelja’s father, who was the Emperor’s Treasurer.

  Areli thought it uncomfortable at first, as people around them gawked at them, knowing them to be riders, and the nature of their sport didn’t usually lead to friendships. But as time passed, so did the stares, as it was accepted that where there was one, there was the other.

  Areli didn’t think she could be happier. It was liberating to have a friend on the team. Someone to talk about flying with, who had similar experiences as her, as well as some of the same fears. It was also beneficial that they liked a lot of the same things. On Friday’s and Saturday’s they would go off to the markets and fashion streets and shop well into the depths of night. Quickly, Areli felt like she could tell Fidelja anything. Fidelja was the first person from Abhi to ask her about the world beyond the mountains. Areli didn’t want to answer her question. It surprised her it was even asked. It was something she had dealt with alone, every night when she went to bed. Her sleep plagued with nightmares of burning flesh and homes, screams of woman and children, and the sight of smoke and destruction. And if those didn’t haunt her, the woman she killed did. Her father had to heavily medicate her just so she could fall asleep.

  “What about Degendhard?” asked Fidelja, “is he everything the papers make him out to be? Some sick pervert that murders woman and children.” At first, Areli didn’t know how to answer this. “Come on, Areli. Tell me. And it better be the truth. You know me well enough by now to know I won’t tell anyone.” Areli chewed on the inside of her lower lip, and then shook her head. “You’re kidding!”

  “No. I’m not, Fidelja,” said Areli, “the papers are controlled by the Empire. It only makes sense to disgrace and blemish his name.”

  After a month passed, Fidelja became comfortable telling Areli she could call her Fides.

  “Fides, my confides,” Areli rhymed, when she told her. Areli wished there was something Fides could call her, but her name didn’t gave way to any shorter ones. At least not to any she liked.

  “Areli . . . do you, um . . . do you ever think about boys?” asked Fides after they finished a long discussion about the latest fashions available in the boutiques while lying on Areli’s bed. There was a boy, Areli thought . . . but he didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her. She knew he was a coward. Areli thought it for the best, maybe Talon knew they could never truly be together. She hated him for not trying. For not even considering it. She hated him ever since their last conversation. But she also realized. Especially, with Yats looking at her the way that he did. She still harbored deep feelings for Talon. Maybe Talon was sparing her from heartache down the road. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Why couldn’t she let him go? She wished her answer to Fides question could truthfully be no. But Talon was still there. He had somehow buried his way into her heart. No matter if he was the one who broke it.

  She wished she could look Fides in the eyes and not tell her that she was sometimes kept awake at night thinking of a particular set of blue eyes and black hair. There was another boy though, Yats, but he was too obnoxious for her, too immature. But it was Fides, and one thing Areli had promised her was complete and utter honesty.

  “Yes,” said Areli, “I think about them a lot actually.”

  “Them?”

  “Well, two in particular,” said Areli, her cheeks searing with heat.

  “Only two?” said Fides with a raised eyebrow, “from what I’ve heard you have plenty of suitors.”

  “And what exactly have you heard?”

  “Well,” started Fides with a playful smile, “I’ve heard that Brynn has a thing for you. And Finn too. As well as every single boy in school drooling to have a column racer as a girlfriend.”

  “First of all – Brynn – gross. And Finn – he’s nice, but . . .”

  “You don’t have those kind of feelings for him?” Areli nodded her head. “And the other boys in school?” Areli gave Fides a look that told her to drop it. Fides couldn’t help but laugh.

  “How about you?” Areli was desperate to change the focus of the conversation. “The greatest column racer in the world must have every boy in the world flaunting over her!” Fides rested her head next to Areli.

  “No . . . actually. I think everyone thinks I’m a bitch.” They both broke out in laughter, but as they lay there longer, seriousness took over the room. “However . . . there is one in particular.” They laid there in silence. Each split between thoughts wondering what the other was thinking and thinking about the ones that stole their breaths away. “May I ask who’s yours?” asked Fides, “your two lovers.” They laughed again. But then Areli felt like a giant animal was sitting on her chest, suffocating her. And her heart seemed to be counting the number of stars that could fill a night sky, as fast as it could.

  “There was this boy,” said Areli, “back in Oroin. It didn’t work out though.”

  “You decided against the whole long distance thing?” asked Fides.

  “I didn’t,” said Areli, sullenly, “but he did.” Silence filled the room again.

  “I’m sorry,” said Fides grabbing her friend’s hand, “you’re better than him, Areli. You truly are.” Areli wiped a stray tear that rolled away from her eyes. “But what about the other boy? What’s he like? And don’t you dare tell me he’s from Sector D! I know by now you must have met someone from Abhi that you like.”

  “He’s different,” said Areli with a slight grin, “I mean he’s attractive.”

  “So the one in Oroin wasn’t attractive?”

  “No . . . he was. Believe me . . . he was. He was gorgeous.” Areli couldn’t believe she used that word to describe Talon.

  “And . . .”

  “It’s just that . . . this is going to sound weird. I loved him, Fidelja. I mean we weren’t dating or anything, but we knew each other . . . you know. I always felt oddly excited yet comfortable at the same time. This one. The one here. We don’t have that.”

  “What his name?” asked Fides sounding distracted.

  “Yats,” said Areli, raising her eyebrows as she did. Wondering if it was a mistake to let the name leave her lips.

  “NO WAY! He’s in my array,” said Fides, coming back fully into the conversation, “we actually have chemistry together. I could talk to him if you like.”

  “NO! Absolutely not, Fides,” said Areli.

  “Why not?” asked Fides, “this way we can see if he likes you as well.”

  “Oh, he likes me.”

  “Really? And how do you know.”

  “I just know.”

  “Areli, I just know is not an answer.”

  “It’s how he looks at me,” said Areli, “I can see it in his eyes.”

  “So then what’s the problem? He likes you. You like him. Oh . . .” Fides slapped herself on the forehead. “It’s Oroin boy, isn’t it.”

  “It’s not him. He doesn’t love me. Not the way I love him at least.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I think I’m scared. I’m scared of being broken again. I’m scared of having to cry myself to sleep. I’m scared of wanting something so badly and then having it ripped away from me. I’m scared of my heart feeling like a vase that fell to floor. I’m scared, Fides. Love terrifies me. It terrifies me. Not the possibility of finding it. But the possibility of it not working out.” Silence entered once again into
their conversation. Areli turned to Fides as her friend had started to cry.

  “Fides, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s Amer!” cried Fides.

  “Yats friend? What about him? Did he do something to you?”

  “He doesn’t even know I exist,” choked out Fides, Areli wrapped her arms around her friend, her mind comprehending that Amer was Fides one in particular, “I mean, he did at one time, but now, but now he makes it out like everything we went through was nothing.” Areli held her, just held her.

  “We were best friends once,” said Fides, “our rooms in the untested section were next to one another’s, after we . . . after I was placed in the townhouses, he stopped talking to me. He gave up on me, Areli. Abandoned me.” Areli kept her arms placed around Fides and thought about her past encounters with Amer. He was fierce and cold. She didn’t understand how Fides would want someone like that.

  “He doesn’t deserve you,” said Areli softly, trying to cheer her friend up, “like the boy in Oroin for me. We’re better than them, Fides. They’re just cowards who can’t admit their feelings.”

  “Then there’s a problem,” said Fides, tears still coming out, “because he’s the only one I can ever see myself with.” Areli kept her arms soft, and laid there next to Fides the entire night, contemplating if she could ever want another like she wanted Talon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Near the end of the week, which was just before the week of the Sorting Competition, Fides told Areli she arranged for them to have dinner in the arena. In the locker room, and during school, Fides gave Areli knowing smiles. All day, they would exchange gestures of eating food and then look away. Areli would have asked Fides how she was able to arrange such a thing, but she knew that it had to have been a favor granted to Fides father by the Emperor.

  Areli’s carriage brought her to the arena, and a guard waited outside to usher her in. The walls were dark, glowing with lanterns, and the floors were an elegant mixture of marble. Her heels tapped against the floor as she searched for the right section. When she found the corresponding letters and numbers that matched up to the sheet of parchment given to her by Fides, Areli entered into the sparsely lit tunnel that led to the benches of the coliseum. The enormity of it grabbed the air straight from her lungs. So this is how the spectators see us, thought Areli. She spotted the glow of candles coming off one of the seats and hurried down to it. But Fides wasn’t there. There were two plates, silverware wrapped in red silk napkins, and two gold glasses, but no Fides. Areli took a seat next to one of the plates and stared out into the arena. Typical, Fides, thought Areli, even though her friend wasn’t one to be late or one to stand her up. That’s something she usually associated with boys.