Girl on the Run

by B. R. Myers

  I smiled, enjoying the bubbles popping inside me. I couldn’t remember feeling so light and airy. “Thanks, but Spencer did all the work.”

  “No, I mean you believed in him when no one else did. He’ll remember this summer forever.”

  “Me too.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember the right words. “‘Find the good around you and share it, showcase it and people will start believing.’”

  Kirk chewed thoughtfully. “One of your dad’s?” he asked with a mouthful of chocolate.

  “No, Jesse Owens,” I said. I took a bite of brownie. “Holy crap! This is so good!”

  “Spencer got a pan too. Although I’m sure the guys had it finished before they even left the parking lot. I heard the twins signed up for another two weeks.”

  “Who knew Cabin 4A would turn out to be so sought after?” I teased. “I still can’t believe Mr. Baxter is taking all four boys on his yacht for the weekend.”

  “I don’t think Ben will get too lonesome while they’re gone,” he said.

  I could see a blond couple in the distance walking hand and hand. Surprising how well dill pickles and cupcakes went together.

  Kirk brushed the chocolate crumbs from his hands, then stood up and reached for me. “Come on,” he said. “I’ve got something for you.”

  Curious, I followed him into the cabin. Kirk had his back to me, and opened one of the drawers under his bed. He stood up and faced me with his hands behind his back.

  “I guess I was saving these, but then I wasn’t sure if you’d want them. So I was just going to hide them in your duffel bag to find when you got home.”

  “Kirk! What is it?”

  He handed me the bundle of denim.

  “These are my favourite jeans,” I said, holding up the shorts.

  “Yeah.” His voice sounded uncharacteristically shy and it made him even more endearing.

  “From the night Scotty dumped the eel crap on me?” I clarified.

  “That’s right.”

  “But I threw them out.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You made them into cut-offs?”

  “Um, yeah.” Kirk’s ears turned bright red.

  I thought my heart would burst. “They look…perfect.”

  He smiled and started to talk quickly. “I had to fray the edges a few times, and I washed them over and over, to get the right, well, feel, I guess.”

  “Thank you.” I hugged him, resting my chin on his warm shoulder. I could stay in his embrace forever. “When do the new kids arrive?”

  “We have all day tomorrow to ourselves,” he smiled. “And tonight, of course.” The light, airy bubbles in my stomach began to grow. I still had my job and another whole month with Kirk. He began kissing me, and I melted into his arms.

  FORTY-THREE

  The next morning at five thirty, everyone was asleep. Except for me; I had a date…with my dad. Running was our time again, and just like when he was alive, I was able to talk with him. I started out slowly, telling him about Kirk.

  “He’s travelling Europe with friends,” I said. “Yeah, I know. We have separate lives and my last year of school will be so busy getting back into training. He promises to keep in touch, though, and says he’ll send me a postcard every two weeks, and email in between. You know I love him, right? It’s just that I wish our finish lines were in the same time zone.”

  “Yes, that’s true. I still have another four weeks.” I embellished a bit here, knowing that Dad wouldn’t be encouraging me in what I was thinking at that moment, but that’s the nice thing about one-sided conversations: it’s so easy to agree.

  “I talked with Susan,” I began again. “She has no hard feelings about the triathlon, considering Mr. Baxter was so pleased. And she’s excited about the running club I want to start here. I think she likes the idea of grooming future athletes for the triathlon cup.”

  When I reached the soccer field, Kirk was waiting with the stopwatch.

  I began my sprints across the grass. “Feet and lungs, Jesse,” he called out.

  Afterward, we walked down the trail, and came to the mist-covered lawn. The lake looked cool and inviting.

  “Let’s go for a swim,” I said.

  “You read my mind,” he grinned, walking to the dock.

  “I’ll get my suit.”

  “You’re forgetting.”

  “What?”

  “I still owe you a peep show.” He peeled off his T-shirt and dropped it on the dock. Next came the sneakers and socks. “Are you ready to get even?”

  Was I ready?

  I looked at the row of quiet cabins; no one else was up yet. A splash made me turn back, and he was gone. The end of the dock was wrapped in a haze. I ran to the edge and saw the rest of his clothes in a pile. I squinted through the fog.

  “Kirk?”

  “Yup,” he said, from beyond the mist.

  “We’re not even if I can’t see you.”

  There was a pause. “So, come in.”

  “With my shorts on?”

  “Whatever you want,” said the fog. “It’s up to you.”

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  My heart knew what it wanted. My body knew what it wanted. It was my brain that was holding me back—I was scared.

  Scared of how it would feel. Scared of how much I would lose when the summer was over.

  “Just Jesse?” his voice sounded a bit wounded. “Still there?”

  “No.”

  He splashed a few times, but I couldn’t tell if he was coming closer or swimming away from me. I began to panic at the thought of him leaving me. What was wrong with me? Only yesterday I was crying over the possibility of having to go home. I looked down at my sneakers. I was so scared and full of guilt after dad died that I gave up running, thinking I didn’t deserve to be happy. I let my fear take over my life, and dictate my choices, and it almost cost me everything.

  “Still there?” he asked again.

  I dove in and swam towards the float. When I surfaced, Kirk was ten feet in front of me, grinning. I turned around, but the shore was a bank of haze. The only things visible were my pile of clothes next to his on the dock. No one would be able to see us.

  “I don’t have a mask,” I said.

  “Then get closer.”

  I treaded water for a moment, then disappeared under the water. I slowly resurfaced right in front of him, and I saw everything.

  “Bet I can guess what you’re thinking,” I said. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and we started to kiss. I laughed as we sank for the third time.

  “Come on,” he said, leading me to the float. He held the ladder with one hand, and reached for me with the other.

  I hesitated. “Are we getting out?” I asked.

  He chuckled nervously and pulled me into his arms. His mouth was warm and soft on mine. I felt my back press up against the ladder.

  “I love you,” Kirk whispered around the kiss.

  My skin was on fire everywhere he touched. His hand smoothed down my side and hooked behind my knee, circling my leg around his waist. A terrified thrill ran through me. I kissed him back eagerly, combing my fingers around his head, clutching his hair. He broke off the kiss then leaned back, watching me carefully.

  “Before we go any further I have to ask you something,” he said, his face inches from mine.

  “It’s my first time, and I have condoms in my room,” I said.

  “I know,” he laughed. “You already told me.”

  “What then?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Are you ready to quit?”

  I fought the grin and cleared my throat importantly. “Hell no. I definitely want to see this through to the finish.”

  “And the finish line is where?”

  “My cabin,” I answered, pulling him closer
.

  “And the start?”

  “Here.”

  It may have been romantic, and we were both willing, but the logistics of having sex in the water, up against the ladder, proved impossible for us that morning. But I’m no quitter, and once I decided we should hold the whole race in my cabin, Kirk smashed his own record swimming back to the dock. Getting out of the lake and struggling to put sweaty clothes on over wet bodies was the most unsexy thing anyone has ever attempted.

  Racing up the grassy slope, before anyone woke up, we tumbled into my tiny cabin laughing nervously, with most of our clothes in a bundle in our arms. My twin bed was a more realistic place than the water. After a frantic fumbling of long legs and blankets, we were quickly under the covers, and in each others’ arms.

  “Just Jesse,” he said, cupping my face with his hand. He started kissing me and I felt like we were the only two people that existed, and that my cabin was our own little planet.

  Even after everything we’d been through, I was still too embarrassed to watch him put the condom on. And I soon realized that Chloe’s mother’s romance book had it all wrong. There was no rapturous climax for me.

  But I was in love, and just the feel of his warm body against mine was enough. I held him tightly, not wanting anything to come between us. Soon I began to relax, and all I could think was: I’m having sex. I love Kirk. I’m having sex. I love Kirk. I love having sex with Kirk.

  Later, after the most delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the main hall ever, we went back to my little twin bed, and this time I watched him put on the condom. And the next morning, I even helped.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Even though it was only ten o’clock in the morning, the humidity was high and my shirt was already stuck to my back. Lewis had left the day before. We planned to meet up when he came home for Christmas break. He already made me promise to send him some of Mom’s recipes to try out at culinary school.

  But now, cooking and Christmas were the farthest things from my mind. The parking lot was full of cars and buses. As kids were picked up and reunited with their parents, the population of Kamp Krystal Lake dwindled, and with it my time left with Kirk. August had never flown by so fast.

  His parents came early, and walked around the grounds with us for a while. They seemed really normal. Only a bumper sticker that read I honk for Klingons gave a hint to their passion. Scotty and Spencer were busy trading email addresses, and planned to FaceTime each other as soon as they got their phones. I smiled and chatted, hiding my growing apprehension.

  Kirk and I stood off by ourselves as Scotty packed his stuff in the car. We had said our private goodbye earlier that morning, but now there was no denying it; we had to leave each other.

  “I’m going to send postcards and email at least once a week,” he said, touching my arm.

  “I know you will,” I said, staring at his T-shirt. “And I’ll start training as soon as I get home.”

  “I’ll call too.”

  “Good.”

  We had already been through this conversation a few times; our parts were so well rehearsed that we even believed what we said to each other. I was aware of all the families around us and wished for one more private moment with him.

  “I love you, Just Jesse,” he whispered.

  I lifted up my eyes to his, and a small groan escaped my lips. It was actually painful to think about walking away from him. But I had to be tough. I was determined not to cry.

  “Hey, Legs!”

  I turned and saw the three of them waving beside the van. They were the only thing that could tear me away from Kirk.

  “Chloe?” I yelled out, quickly crossing the distance between us. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them until I was in their arms. The group hug lasted a full minute.

  “Look at her, Maria,” Grandma smiled, holding me out at arms’ length. “Doesn’t she glow?”

  Mom hugged me again. “You look so grown up, I hardly recognized you.”

  “I think it’s the cut-offs,” Chloe laughed, looking at my shorts.

  “You didn’t tell me you were coming,” I told her.

  “I was curious,” she said, looking over my shoulder. “You must be Kirk,” she said, extending her hand.

  Kirk was right behind me. “Nice to meet you, Chloe,” he smiled.

  I quickly introduced Mom, who studied him carefully, between polite small talk. She has to play the role of father as well, I reasoned. But Grandma was a totally different story. She had him by the arm, walking her over to meet Scotty.

  “Legs said he was her favourite from the first day!” she said, smiling up at him.

  It was another twenty minutes before everyone was in their cars and ready to go. Except for Kirk and me, who lingered behind Mom’s van.

  “Your grandma invited me to come back and stay a few nights,” he said.

  “She likes tall brunettes too.” I made a pattern in the dust with the toe of my flip-flop. “But I’m sure your family wants to see you before you leave for Europe next week.”

  We smiled weakly at each other. He took me in his arms, and I let my head rest against his shoulder. I took in one last breath, trying to permanently fix his spicy sweet vanilla chai smell to my memory.

  “You know,” I said. “When it’s a cold winter morning, and I have to go for a run, I’ll imagine that you’re still here, and it’s summer. And if I run far enough, and fast enough, I’ll get back to you.”

  His arms tightened around me. “If you’ll promise to keep running,” he whispered, “I’ll promise to be waiting. Don’t give up on Queen’s.”

  I slipped out of his embrace, then jumped into the back seat of the van beside Chloe, and I finally began to cry.

  “That’s the sad thing about great memories, Jesse,” Mom said, eyes watery. “You always wish you were in them again.”

  The van slowly pulled out of the parking spot. Wiping my eyes, I turned and watched his standing figure grow smaller as we drove up the dirt road. And I had a feeling this was the last time I was going to see him.

  No one spoke, and it remained quiet until we reached the highway. I caught Mom’s eye in the rearview mirror. “So, you were on TV, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she said softly as the van sped up on the smoother surface.

  “You were great, Maria,” Grandma smiled.

  “And that TV guy was so cute,” Chloe added.

  “What TV guy?” I asked.

  “Oh, he’s just one of the local reporters,” Mom said. “We did a few spots together.”

  “Hmm,” Grandma murmured.

  “Mrs. Turner is pregnant,” Mom said quickly. “With twins!”

  “Again!” Grandma laughed. “She must be making her own ball team.”

  “She was asking about you, Jesse,” Mom said. “Wondered if you might want to babysit.”

  “Not tonight!” Chloe insisted. “Too much to talk about.” She gave me a nudge in the ribs with her elbow.

  “Later,” I said out of the corner of my mouth. Some details couldn’t be shared over email, and she grinned mischievously with anticipation.

  “How’s Sam?” I asked her, trying to keep a straight face.

  “Gone back to university,” she sighed. I continued to stare at her. “Later,” she whispered.

  Grandma turned around with a smile. “Is it true,” she asked, “that they put a dead eel in your bed?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Oh.” She frowned.

  “It was still alive.”

  Squeals filled the van for the next hour as I gave a colourful re-telling of Cabin 4A’s antics.

  ‘A’ for antics, I thought with a smile.

  “Sounds like you have some good stories to pass on,” Mom smiled knowingly.

  “Yeah,” I laughed. The heaviness in my heart began to ea
se, just by the tiniest, but it was a start, and I knew that things would be okay. My sadness over leaving Kirk would linger, of course, but my life was still going forward, toward the next finish line. I took in a deep breath, enjoying the lightness of my new guilt-free life. Everything felt…just right.

  EPILOGUE

  Dear Diary,

  There’s no such thing as a safe bet—ever. You might be the fastest runner in the heat, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to win the final race. Even when the finish line is dead ahead, waiting at the end of that flat stretch of track, it can still seem like an uphill climb. But I knew, that as long as I could see it, I could reach it first.

  Still, getting there first isn’t why you race.

  After all my years of running I’d forgotten the very first rule of training. No matter how much it hurts or how much you think you’re going to fail, you have to keep moving forward. Otherwise there’s no point and you might as well be on the sidelines.

  I finally realized the most important finish line isn’t the one you can see straight ahead of you; it’s the one that might be just around the corner, or up over the steepest hill.

  I was so busy trying to find Old Jesse I didn’t see that I was going backwards, not forwards. I’m not sure what this school year will bring, but I know I’m moving in the right direction. I’ll be running again—for real. I’m going to try for that scholarship to Queen’s, but not as Old Jesse, or even as some new and improved Jesse. I’m going to be just me…Just Jesse.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Getting Girl on the Run published was like running a relay race; it passed hands several times before completing its loop around the track. Many thanks to literary agents, Naomi Hackenberg for finding it in the slush pile and cheering on Jesse from the sidelines the longest, and Roseanne Wells for smoothing out the kinks.

  I’m again enormously grateful to Penelope Jackson, editor of my dreams, along with Patrick Murphy, Whitney Moran, and the whole team at Nimbus Publishing who made it possible for Jesse to finally cross the finish line in style.