I began to strip it all down.

The other runners.

The whispers.

The rumors.

The hype.

Faith.

Even that Emily girl.

None of them mattered.

It was me. It was the course. It was the run.

It was my old friend. This was just another night I needed to run. Maybe I was pissed at my mom. Maybe I was pissed about Kate and her group that had jumped me. Maybe I was fuming about Cass, Mark’s girlfriend who’d hated me since high school. Or maybe I was thinking about Becky and Adam, about how he tried to set Mason up. Or maybe it was Budd Broudou in the back of my mind, when he was looking for Mason’s girlfriend because he wanted to rip her up with his dick.

All of those enemies flashed through my head.

There’d been so many, but the one that stood above the rest was Analise. And she was no longer my enemy.

They were all gone. I was done with them.

No. This was just me today. Me and my friend, the run.

Then the gun went off, and we started.

Everyone came off the line fast. I heard people from the sidelines yelling for us to slow down. We weren’t supposed to start this quick, but it didn’t matter. No one slowed. Faith surged ahead of me. That Emily girl was right behind her. I held back, just a little. There were a few runners between us.

The first mile passed.

The lead group pulled ahead of the others. This was my competition. I positioned myself at the back of that group.

Mile two passed.

We had fourteen more to go.

The lead group strengthened its advantage. The middle group was back by half a mile, at least. I still waited, content to sit behind the others, but once we passed mile six, then seven, then eight, I began feeling the itch.

I needed to go faster.

Faith and Emily were out in front. Emily had taken the lead a mile back, but Faith was on her heels. She was almost breathing down her neck.

Come on.

I heard the voice in my head. I didn’t know if it was mine, or Mason’s, or even someone else. It sounded like my mom, but no. It was me. My voice.

It’s time to go.

Tears streamed down my face. My stomach was still clenched in knots, but the voice was right. I could go faster and harder. We had eight more miles to go, a little less than that by now.

It’s time.

I moved to the side, and I picked up my pace. In thirty yards, I was ahead of the last ones in the group. Another thirty yards, and I was past the two behind Faith and Emily. They were farther out. It took me another half-mile to be right behind Faith.

She felt me. I knew she did. She glanced back once, but she didn’t react. She’d been waiting. I dug my heels in even more, and I was beside her. We matched our strides. Our arms swung in sync. Our legs tuned in to the other’s, feeling a teammate near. We moved together, and she gave me the slightest of nods. We forged ahead.

We reached Emily together.

She looked back and saw Faith. Her eyes were flat. They were full of pain, and she was exhausted, but she showed no other emotion. Then her eyes moved to mine and rounded a little bigger. But she couldn’t focus too much on me. She returned to facing forward. She couldn’t lose even that tiny bit of time, though it didn’t matter. She just didn’t know that.

Faith and I pulled ahead, then moved over to run right in front of Emily.

We went a half-second faster and began to put distance between us and her.

Tears streamed down Faith’s face as she looked at me and said, “Go.”

It was all I needed.

I ran.

I stopped thinking.

I tuned the people out.

I tuned the runners out.

It was me.

It was the course.

And I had my friend—the run.

Just her and me. Just doing what we always did.

In the beginning, I heard Coach Langdon yelling for me to slow down. He was worried I would burn out. I wouldn’t. I didn’t look behind me, but I was alone. I knew it was only me in the lead, and when I passed each mile marker, people were surprised. Either they were surprised it was me, or they were surprised I was there sooner than they’d expected.

I didn’t care.

I ran the rest of the race with no one behind me, and when I crossed the finish line, the crowd was quiet for a moment. When I stopped, my chest heaving, the tears were still falling. Something had happened. I didn’t know what, but I knew I had run one of my best times ever.

Then Logan was there. He let out a cry and picked me up, swinging me around. Nate came with him. He hugged me too. I knew it was just those two. Mason couldn’t come. He had a football event today because they were getting prepped for their game tomorrow, but I knew Logan had been on the phone with him. He had it in his hand, and I reached for it. I wanted to talk to Mason.

My whole body was buzzing, so when Logan tapped me on the shoulder and said something, I didn’t hear it right away.

His mouth was moving before I heard the words. “You beat the record, Sam!” His hands held my shoulders. “The record.”

“No.” Coach Langdon was next to him now, a shocked expression on his face as he looked from me to his watch. “According to this time, you would’ve qualified for the Olympics.”

It was all a rush afterward.

I took first, and even Faith was happy. She hugged me as soon as she crossed the line.

“That was my best time ever,” she gasped into my ear. “You helped me do that.” She pulled back, and then hugged me once more. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She kept crying and saying the same thing. A bunch of people came over to hug her. They were congratulating her, then me.

Everyone congratulated me.

Taylor was crying. She came in fourteenth out of seventy runners.

Coach Langdon had a frazzled look in his eyes, even after the medals were handed out. Our team took first, and wondering if I could get some favoritism, I asked if Taylor and I could ride back with Logan and Nate. He said no. We needed a team-bonding ride back, but that was fine.

We stopped for food on the way, and so did many of the runners’ family and friends who’d traveled to our meet. We took over an entire restaurant, and the whole time, I just wanted to talk to Mason.

I’d only gotten a few words in with him over the phone before, and it hadn’t been enough. People kept coming over to me, and I couldn’t hear. Then he had to go.

After eating and going to the bathroom, I slipped outside for some privacy and called him again. I didn’t know if I would catch him. It was around six, so he’d either be in the weight room, or already heading home to rest before his game tomorrow.

“Hey.”

I sagged in relief. “You picked up.”

He chuckled. “I’d pick you up any day of the year.”

I smiled. “You sound like Logan.”

“I have a sense of humor. Sometimes.” Then he grew serious. “I hear some major congratulations are in order.”

He’d already said it, but I loved hearing it again. My throat swelled up. “Thank you.”

“Even the guys heard about it here.”

I clutched the phone tighter in my hand. “Really?”

“It’s a big deal if we might have an Olympian at our school.” He was somber. “Your life’s not going to be the same, Sam.”

He was warning me.

I nodded. “I know,” I whispered. I’d watched him go through it. “I can’t believe it, but it might not happen. This was just the first race. It might’ve been a fluke.”

“Stop.”

“What?” But I knew what he meant.

“You know it wasn’t a fluke. You know the rest will be the same. The only difference now is that everyone else knows how good you are.”

Those damn tears. I felt them again. They were threatening to spill. “I heard your voice in my head.”

“Yeah?”

I laughed. “It was telling me to go.” It had also been my voice, and my mom’s too, but I kept that to myself. I didn’t know what it meant, and I didn’t want to give her any credit. She didn’t deserve it.

“I hear your voice in my head sometimes too.”

“You do?” I sat down on a bench. Some people had started to leave the restaurant, heading for their vehicles.