by Kirby Hall
West spared him a glance and then pushed off with his right foot. When Josh reached him, he turned. “What did you think I was going to do, take a nap?”
“I’m just saying. Alexa’s here, so you don’t want to look like a jackass.”
West nearly tripped. He hadn’t seen her in three weeks, even though he’d taken the same route through the hall each day to try to run into her again. He figured she was going out of her way to avoid him. “Why should I care what she thinks?”
“Yeah, okay.”
A whistle sounded to clear the track, so they made their way over to the bench to wait their turn. West tried to search the stands for signs of her without looking obvious, but it was almost impossible.
“Why is she here?”
Josh at least had the decency to try to hide his smile, even if he did fail miserably. “It was part of our deal.”
“Your deal?” West raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, we had a little fight.” Josh shook his head. “Okay, that’s not true. I got pissed at her. Anyway, she said she’d come to help make it up to me. Can’t have too many people cheering you on.”
“What’d she do to piss you off?”
“I thought you didn’t care?”
West turned his attention to the ongoing race. He shouldn’t care. He didn’t have the right. Nor did he want to think about her. Of course, he’d been failing at that since he’d run into her in the hall. She’d smelled of vanilla and all he wanted to do was pull her against him and prove she’d made the wrong decision, but he hadn’t and now she was avoiding him. He’d spent more than a few nights over the past weeks wondering if she still cared or if she’d put him behind her already.
“She misses you,” Josh said as if reading his mind.
West’s head snapped around. “How do you know?”
“She’s my best friend. I know.” He rolled his shoulders. “All right, no more downer talk. We’ve got a race to win.”
One of the race officials signaled the start of the next event with three short bursts on the whistle. West and Josh, along with their other relay partners, stood and crossed over to their designated places on the track. Josh stopped at the second line for the four by one, and West moved three-fourths of the way around the track until he reached his mark.
He glanced toward the stands again. After a moment, he saw his mom wedged between two other sets of parents, both sporting black and gold long-sleeved T-shirts. She looked out of place in her bright blue sweater, but she was there. And, so was Alexa.
The air horn at the starting line sounded and the first members of the teams darted into action. West refocused his attention to the track and followed his team member’s progress until Josh took the baton and started moving toward him.
West bent his knees and started to move as Josh rounded the turn, the baton held out for him to take. West sped up and as soon as he felt the metal hit his palm, he dug his feet into the rubber surface of the track until the crowd was a blur and the wind flattened his clothes against his body. When his foot hit the line, he was aware of the guy on his right who hit at almost the exact same time. Apparently, purple didn’t mean slow. Both West and the other finished runner walked with their hands resting on their heads, for the few seconds it took the final four runners to cross the line.
He waited with Josh and his other teammates for the final times to be logged. As the board changed, reflecting a winning time, one arm wound around his neck and two hands started slapping him on the back. They’d won by a tenth of a second. He smiled and exhaled while jumping around with the other guys as the thrill of victory surged through them.
Josh let out a yell and started waving to someone in the stands. West followed his gaze and there she was. Alexa and Bekah were standing and starting to make their way down out of the stands. She was in jeans for once, but of course in true Alexa style, she was wearing a button up shirt with a blazer over it and tall boots. He had to talk to her.
He broke away from the guys and wove in and out of the other runners milling about at the entrance to the track. Pushing his way through, he exited the fence and then stopped when a hand came to rest on his arm.
“Where you going, Howell?” Coach Avery said. “Don’t you have another event to run in about fifteen minutes?”
“Yes, sir. I just need a second.” West searched the crowd for Alexa or Bekah until he spotted Bekah’s bright hair moving just a little farther from him.
“Don’t do it, son.” The coach’s voice was firm, but kind. “Step over here a minute. There’s something we need to talk about.”
West’s stomach sank as he caught sight of Alexa’s retreating back. He followed Coach under the stadium seats and wondered, as he looked around at the discarded trash trampled into the loose rocks, what they needed to talk about that needed to be done in private. They looked like a couple of guys about to take part in some sleazy drug deal.
“Listen, West, I’m not one for beating around the bush so I’m just going to put it out there. You’re good.”
West rubbed the back of his head. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going. So far, it didn’t exactly scream super-secret team meeting. They were roughly the same height, so when he leaned in toward West, they were practically nose to nose. West tried to take a step back without offending the man, but a slab of concrete forced him to stay put.
“You’re probably one of the fastest guys we’ve had in two seasons, but listen,” Coach Avery looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. “I’ve got some friends who are cops, and I heard you got into some trouble.”
West’s arm fell away from his head and he opened his mouth to try to explain, but the coach stopped him by holding both hands up palms out.
“Look, there are no charges against you, but I do know there’s a girl you’re supposed to stay away from and I’d be willing to bet my new pick-up that’s who you were going to try to talk to.” Coach Avery dropped his hands and leaned in again. “You need to know that if charges do get brought against you, you’ll be off the team.”
“But, Coach I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s all fine and good, but I won’t have a choice.” Coach Avery ran his hands over his clean-shaven face to combat the trickles of sweat running down his temples. “West, don’t blow this opportunity. You’re too good to screw it up over some girl.”
“With all due respect, Coach, she isn’t some girl. And, you don’t need to worry. We aren’t together anymore.” He kept his face blank even though bile rose in his throat at the words.
“Okay, then.” He dropped a beefy hand on West’s shoulder. “Well, let’s get back out there. You need to get ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
Twenty minutes later, leaning against the fence, West’s mind was still spinning after his conversation with the coach. He’d made the team, finally found a place he fit in and now there was a possibility it could be taken away. His fingers tightened their grip on the metal of the fence, the force cutting into his skin. Alexa’s dad had not only found a way to keep him and Alexa apart, now he might be able to take away the one thing keeping him sane.
“Are you, okay?” Josh said. “Did you catch up with Alexa?”
West shook his head and kept his focus on the runners on the far side of the track. “Coach knows about the order Alexa’s dad had put against me. If I go near her, or if her dad presses charges, I’m off the team.”
Josh’s eyes widened. “What?”
The announcer’s garbled voice broke through on the loud speaker announcing the start of the next race.
“Yeah, it’s great, right?” West pushed off the fence hard enough to make the metal gate screech and headed to the starting line to wait. He was the anchor. After his three teammates ran one lap, it would be his turn. His time t
o prove he was worth keeping around.
The whistle blew and then the air horn sounded. The first runners took off like a shot. West kept his gaze on his feet. He didn’t need to see what was happening or to compare his teammate’s progress with the other runners. He studied the tiny odd-shaped pieces of rubber that were melted together to form the track. His life was starting to feel like it, too, was a bunch of tiny pieces, but unlike the track, his life was on the verge of being blown apart.
Feet pounded the track in front of him as the first runners finished their lap and passed off the baton. More pounding sounded as the second runners began. His teammate stepped away from him and onto the track. West took a few steps forward. Almost time.
The same process again, but this time, a little faster. The second runner passed to the third. West stepped onto the track. He bounced on his toes and rolled his shoulders. He counted in his head as he waited for his teammate to round the second turn. The noise from the crowd surged. He thought of Alexa again. How she’d looked. How she’d been so close. Then, he thought of her back as she’d walked away, again.
The sound of footsteps grew louder. It was time.
He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Brody came up fast. Adrenaline flooded West’s system and his muscles tensed until they were coiled like springs pushed to their limit. He started to move, one step, then two, with his arm extended behind his back until at last, the baton slapped into his palm.
As he ran, the blood pounding in his ears, he thought of Alexa and then of her father. The way he’d looked standing in his driveway, watching as West was hauled away in the back of a police car. He didn’t have money, but he wasn’t a criminal. He was worthy of Alexa. He wasn’t some piece of crap who could be pushed aside.
He surged down the first straightaway. Alexa’s dad wasn’t the first person who didn’t think he was worth anything. His own father had felt the same way. West dug his feet into the track harder and pumped his arms with fury fueling him through the second turn. He’d prove them wrong.
And he’d fight, but not for nothing this time. Not because of anger or resentment. This time he would fight for Alexa.
As he crossed the finish line and the whistle blew somewhere off in the distance, his teammates surrounded him. He smiled, but his lungs were on fire and his legs felt like lead.
“Hell, yes.”
“Nice finish, Howell.”
More hands clapped him on the back, as he bent over at the waist to catch his breath.
“I don’t know what got into you, West,” Coach said breaking through the group to get to him, “but I hope there’s more where that came from.”
West nodded as he continued gasp for air. If only he knew.
Chapter 30
“I knew I shouldn’t have gone.”
“Relax, Alexa,” Bekah said from her position half inside the refrigerator. “Besides, you promised Josh. It wasn’t as if you could back out, unless you wanted him to go back to being mad at you.”
Alexa sighed. No, she didn’t want that. She grabbed the can of soda out of the air Bekah tossed her way and clicked the top open.
“They looked good out there. Not that you noticed.”
Alexa didn’t answer. They had looked good. In fact, she’d never seen West so driven.
Bekah sat down on the stool next to Alexa’s and nudged her shoulder with her own. “You’re beyond miserable. The same way you’ve been every day for the last month. You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself.”
Alexa looked up at her friend, defeated. “What should I do?”
“Talk to him. Tell him it was a mistake.”
“I can’t.” Alexa slid off her stool and crossed the kitchen to look out the big bay window framing the dinner table. Bekah wasn’t wrong. She was miserable. Seeing West had lifted her spirits for the few seconds he was running, when she’d been lost in cheering for him and Josh, but as soon as they stopped and people were congratulating them, and she realized she couldn’t go near him, her heart squeezed in her chest as she’d fought back tears.
“Have you thought about trying to talk to your dad?”
Alexa shook her head. “No. The doctor said no extra stress.”
“Then, he’s going to have to get a different job.” Bekah said. “Seriously, Alexa, it’s been almost a month and your dad is doing great. I can’t say as much for you.”
“What do you mean? I go to school. My grades are good. I come home and everyone is happy,” she said, her voice higher pitched than usual.
Bekah raised her eyebrows. “Everyone? Because correct me if I’m wrong, I’m only your best friend in the entire world who knows you better than anyone, and I think you’re the opposite of happy. In fact, I’d say this is the crappiest you’ve been since middle school.”
“Oh please,” Alexa said turning away from the window. “Let’s not be dramatic.”
“I’m not. I’m being honest.” Bekah eyed her as she traced the top of her can with her bright gold fingernail. “It’s my job.”
“Maybe you need a different job,” Alexa said throwing Bekah’s earlier remark back at her, but there was no malice in it. She deserved to hear Bekah out. After all, she’d been throwing her own opinions at Bekah all year about Jay. It was her turn to hear it like it was.
Bekah smiled. “But then, who would drive you crazy?”
Alexa rolled her eyes, but smiled.
A knock sounded on the backdoor and she set her can down on the way to go answer it. When she found Josh standing on the other side, her eyes widened. “Hey, you.” She hugged him and then pulled back. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with the team or something?”
“We’re celebrating later.” Josh’s eyes were intense. He didn’t exactly look like someone who’d just won their first meet. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Alexa stepped back so he could pass through and closed the door.
“Hey,” Bekah removed her feet from the chair where’d they’d been propped and sat up when Josh walked into the kitchen. “You did great today.”
Alexa watched as his cheeks reddened.
“Thanks, it was fun.” Josh sat down on Alexa’s vacant seat. “Winning always is, though, and West is kick-ass. Maybe we would’ve had a better season if he’d been on the team last year.” He turned his attention to Alexa. “Speaking of West, that’s kind of why I’m here.” He shifted in his seat as if what he was about to say was going to be as uncomfortable for him as it was for her.
Alexa slumped against the counter and braced herself. “What does that mean?”
Josh glanced over his shoulder toward the living room. “I need you to do me a favor. Well, really you’d be doing West a favor.” He leaned onto the counter with his elbows. “Coach knows about your dad’s restraining order.”
Bekah and Alexa sucked in a collective sharp breath.
“If West gets in trouble or what did he say? If your dad presses charges against him, he’ll be off the team.”
“I don’t know what you think I can do. I don’t see him. I don’t speak to him.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she wiped them away with her palms. “There’s nothing else I can do.”
“Maybe you could just try to talk to your dad? Explain you’re not seeing him anymore and see if he’d be willing to get rid of the restraining order.” Josh said in a low voice. “You know, make him understand—”
“No one can make my dad do anything.”
“Don’t you owe it to West to at least try?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. She did owe him. She owed him more than she could ever repay. “I’ll see what I can do.”
~ ~ ~
She pressed her palm over the front of her shirt to flatten out the wrinkles. “Come on, Alexa, you can do this.” The door to the office w
as ajar and through the crack she could hear papers shuffling and the faint sound of keys being pressed on a keyboard. Taking a deep breath, she knocked.
“Come in.”
Alexa pushed the door the rest of the way open and let herself in. “Hi, Daddy. Do you have a minute?”
“Just let me finish up this one thing.”
While her dad worked, she looked around at the familiar surroundings, the countless book shelves lined with matching volumes of law books, the globe made of marble and scattered between it all pictures of her and Graham. Her bare feet sank into the familiar carpet where she used to lay as a little girl listening to her dad work, as she stood on her toes to look at the last picture taken of the four of them before her mom had stopped looking like herself.
Near the end, the sickness had taken her energy and her looks. Alexa didn’t like to remember her that way. When she thought of her, she pictured her the way she was in the picture, a big smile and full of warmth. Alexa’s fingers brushed the edge of the silver frame and it suddenly struck her how much she was starting to look like her mom.
“She was a beautiful woman.”
Alexa set the picture back on the shelf and turned to see her dad watching her. “Yes, she was.”
Her dad motioned to one of the leather chairs facing his desk and Alexa sat. When her eyes met his, she felt her courage waiver. He’d always been able to make her feel like a little girl with a mere look.
She swallowed. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, Alexa. You can stop worrying about me.” He wove his fingers together and rested his hands on the desk. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
She wrung her own hands in her lap. It was now or never. “I was wondering if we could talk about the, um, court order? The one against West.”
Her dad exhaled, fell back against his chair and opened his mouth to speak. “If you’re about to ask me if you can start seeing him again—”