Pepped Up Forever

by Ali Dean

  Caroline’s speaking passionately but quietly. By the way she’s wringing her hands, I can tell this isn’t something she’s repeated many times. It’s still raw for her. And maybe that’s why she saw through my act, and identifies with me. She takes a deep breath before continuing.

  “I was starting to realize it was anger about what happened to my dad, and that I needed to let myself feel that and go through it, when I started college. Just knowing what it was that was making it hard for me to have good friendships and race like I used to, that made a big difference. But then when I started here, I don’t know, all you guys, my new teammates and roommates, it like, jumpstarted something inside me, got me to move past my anger. It’s really hard to explain. But when you see people who love racing and love their teammates, and experience so much joy from the same things as me, it makes it harder to be angry at God or what happened to me.”

  I rest my head on her shoulder then, letting her story seep into me and latch on to my own story. Her way of grieving has similarities to my own, but of course, I find myself thinking of Jace, and how he’s dealt with grief over the years. Not just when he broke up with me, but before Annie even returned. I wonder if now he’s finally moving on. If something jumpstarted it for him. Or someone.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jace

  “Hey, man, I’m headed out,” I said as I thumped Frankie on the shoulder.

  “It’s early, Jace, hang out for a while,” he said. It was poker night at our place, but I didn’t join the card game tonight. We usually have Saturday football games, so when we’re not traveling, we keep ourselves in check by meeting up for cards on Friday nights. I figured most college football players always had the usual temptations of women and partying, but it seemed that ever since our team started winning again, the invitations and pressure to be the life of the party got a little out of control. As co-captains, Frankie and I have tried to set a good example.

  “Not tonight, Frankie. Pepper’s got her conference meet tomorrow morning. She’s going to bed early.” I’ve continued coming over, sleeping on an air mattress in her room. The fear that Wolfe would pull a crazy on her was still there, and even though I wanted it gone, I loved having an excuse to see her every night.

  At that point, the rest of my teammates knew I stayed at purple house every night, and they thought we were together again, an assumption I was not going to correct. As I left, a few called out to tell her good luck.

  She hadn’t pushed me away yet, even if she hadn’t pulled me in either. I was letting her see that I was the same Jace she’d been friends with forever, and that she could trust me like she used to. But I was also trying to show her that I was different too, that I wasn’t going to shut down on her and let her down. I was confiding in her about all the things I was feeling, the good and the bad. I could almost see the little wheels in her head turning. It’s like Buns said, the girl thought everything through. And I wanted her to, if that’s what it took, because I was counting on her to eventually conclude I was good for her. The more time I spent with her, the more I believed it myself.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Pepper

  The Conference meet comes before I’m ready for it. It’s already November, and assuming I qualify for Nationals, I’ve only got three more meets this season, two if I don’t qualify. Conference, Regionals, and Nationals. Today I have a chance to do something awesome. The course rotates every year for Conference, and we won’t be hosting again for another seven years. If everything comes together I could win and set a course record on our home course.

  My body is in amazing shape. I can feel it with every workout. Physically, I’m a finely-tuned machine. If I can just find it in myself to dig deep and stop self-doubting enough to break through to the next level, my body will follow. I’ve thought a little about what Caroline said on the plane – that anger and grief prevented her from embracing her competitive nature. But I haven’t experienced anything like she did. All I can think is that I’m really angry at Jace, and maybe it goes back even farther than when he broke up with me. Maybe I’m mad at him for all the years he “grieved” his mother’s abandonment by sleeping around and partying. I don’t know. It seems like old history now, it’s hard to imagine I’m still hung up on it.

  Yet the more I’ve thought about it, the more it resonates. I think that’s what I latched on to about Veronica’s lie. Because deep down, I knew right away it was a lie, even before Jace denied it, and my friends weighed in. I just wanted a reason to be able to express this anger that, apparently, I’ve been burying. Still, I’m doubtful that the admission or acknowledgement that, yeah, I had some anger in there about Jace still lingering, will translate to racing harder.

  When the gun goes off and I surge forward with bodies pressed close to me, I hope that I can beat down my fear today. Because I think that more than anger or anything else, it’s fear that’s holding me back. Bunny, Wallace, Lulu, Jim and Jace have come to cheer me on, and as I settle into the lead pack, their voices ring in my ears. Gina’s voice comes through, too. She wasn’t one of the top seven this year, but she was close. She’s the alternate for the Championship season, which means if any of us get sick or injured, she’ll race. It also means she comes to all the workouts still and will travel with the team to Regionals and Nationals. She’s been handling it well so far.

  It’s one of those perfect race days. Brisk, but not cold. I’m confident in my stride and pace as we pass through the second mile on a trail I’ve run hundreds of times. It’s one of those races that almost feels easy, and everything about it is familiar, almost nostalgic in an odd way. But no matter how many races I’ve run or won, it doesn’t diminish the importance of this one. I want to win this meet on this course more than anything in this moment, and when we hit a cluster of trees that signifies a half mile left to the finish, I pick up the pace, trying to pull away from the pack. But there’s a runner at my side, Whitney Simmons, a senior who placed second at Conference last year. I had a feeling she’d be going for the win today, too. She probably wants it as much as I do, and I relish the challenge, because it means we’ll run faster together, and I may get that record too.

  But when the finish line comes into sight, my body begins to stall. It’s hurting, like it always does at this point, and I’m not sure I’ve got what it takes to beat this girl. I hear my friends and family shouting my name and with their enthusiasm I’m reminded of my purpose here. The sensation I had when I came here over the summer, the need to win when it matters, to see just how fast I can be, it pulses through me. Whitney beside me begins to pull away, and my legs and chest scream at the idea of following her. But I’m going to ignore the self-doubt, and try anyway. Even if I don’t have what it takes to beat this girl, I’ve got to see what I do have, and I’m not going to back off and hand it to her. Despite its initial protest, my body knows just what I’m asking it do when I open my stride and let loose.

  It’s freeing, sprinting with abandon like this. I’m not listening to any of the pain signals telling me it’s too much, that it hurts, that I’m not strong enough to reach the finish line first. I’m completely cut off from all that negativity and my arms pump with the liberating sensation of going full tilt, no holding back. It’s like my competitive spirit came out of hiding, and she is fiercely reestablishing her place in my body.

  I’m on my own when I burst through the tape, hands in the air. And I didn’t miss the clock highlighting my time as I pulled away from my competition. The course record has been shattered.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve floated on this kind of post-win bliss. My cheeks are starting to hurt because I just can’t stop smiling. That, and everyone wants photos. We took the team title too, so I’m not the only one coasting from the euphoria that can only be found after an awesome cross race. The best part? Gina Waters seems happier today than she was when she won this race two years ago. I think she had her own breakthrough out there, cheering for us along the course. She wa
s the first to congratulate me and I’m pretty sure she had happy tears in her eyes when she pummeled me with a full-body tackle hug.

  The only thing missing is Jace. Right, person… the only person missing is Jace. Sometimes he seems more like a phenomenon than an actual living breathing dude. His presence is that all-consuming for me. I haven’t said any of this to him lately though, and I’m beginning to think that’s been a mistake. What have I been waiting for, anyway? It’s almost like I experienced an epiphany today, and I want to share it with him. It’s that pushing through the pain is worth it, even if you risk getting burned. It’s not all that profound, not really, but I think it worked for me on the course today and I’m willing to try the same approach with Jace. That second where I just said, to hell with hurting and self-doubt and the chance I’ll lose anyway, that was the hard part. After that, it felt good to sprint. So yeah, maybe I’m just experiencing that weird state where I’m almost drunk with happiness after a race, but I’m totally wishing Jace was here so I could relay my insight.

  I think he just might understand, too.

  But Jim told me Jace had to run off to something, and he left a note saying congratulations and that he knew I was going to win. We don’t have each other’s schedules memorized anymore, but I’m not surprised he had to head out. I don’t think his game starts until seven tonight, but maybe the team had meetings beforehand. It seems like the football team is constantly watching footage and talking strategy. I guess I’ll just have to wait until later tonight, after his game.

  It’s still only noon by the time they finish the award ceremony, and it’s strange to have the whole day ahead of me after a race, when usually we have to travel. After showering and changing in the locker rooms, we head over to Chapman Hall, which is open for all the visiting cross teams too.

  “Did you see Clayton Dennison at the race?” Gina asks when we’ve loaded our trays and sat down.

  “No, why? Was he there?” They did say they might come, and the Rockies’ season is over, so he might be visiting Brockton again.

  “I don’t know. I might have seen him at the beginning of the race, but probably not.”

  “Doubt it. We don’t really keep in touch anymore.”

  “You did beer miles with him, what, like, a month ago,” she reminds me. “That had to be a bonding experience, right?”

  “Not really.” That was the last time any of us drank for the rest of the season, and our weekends have been quite a bit tamer since then, consisting mostly of couch time between workouts. I don’t want to think about Clayton or that night and what led to my uncharacteristic drinking, and Gina seems to get the hint. I’m more in the mood to think about the here and now, and the future. With two more big meets, and a newfound confidence, I’m feeling unstoppable. Not to mention, Jace said he’d be waiting, and I’m ready to let him know the waiting is over.

  We head back to purple house to decompress before rallying again to go to the football game. I’m not always around to watch, but I’m glad I can come to this one because it’s the last one in the regular season before playoffs. I’m too energized from the race and filled with anticipation to see Jace later tonight, and I can’t pay attention to the TV show my housemates are watching. Instead, I clean my room and start a load of laundry before deciding to make a quick trip to the mini-mart to restock my snack stash.

  “You guys want anything?” I ask everyone before heading out, but I just get a few absent mumblings because half of them are dozing and the other half are immersed in the show.

  My basket’s full of popcorn and pretzels when I get in line at the checkout and find Clayton Dennison is in front of me.

  “Hey, Clayton.”

  He turns around, and his face lights up when he sees me. “Hi, Pepper! Great race. Congrats.” He leans in for a short hug, and I realize that, despite some weirdness, he’s become someone I can call a friend.

  “Were you at the race?”

  “Yeah, but I had to head out right after watching you finish, so I didn’t get a chance to say hi.”

  “Oh, cool. Well, thanks for coming.”

  We finish checking out, and he turns to me on the sidewalk. “It’s a pretty good day, huh? You win the race, break a record, and then you get the call that they found Wolfe Jenkins.”

  “Wait. What? They found Wolfe?”

  Clayton frowns, apparently confused that he’s the one breaking this news. “I thought they usually informed the victim before everyone else.”

  “Yeah, they told me they’d call as soon as they had any news.” I’m already checking my phone, making sure I didn’t miss anything. Jace called half an hour ago, but didn’t leave a message. It’s the only call I’ve missed.

  “That’s weird. Maybe they knew you had a meet or something. Who knows? But yeah, they arrested him this morning.”

  “What’s he saying? Where was he?” The fear I’ve been carrying for over two months now falls away so abruptly with this news that I feel weightless. But I want answers.

  “Here, I’ll give you a ride back to your place and fill you in,” he offers, taking my grocery bag. I’d rather he just tell me right here and then I can call Detective Marshall myself, and then tell Gran, and Jace, and my housemates. Man, do I have a lot to celebrate tonight, or what? But I don’t want to offend Clayton, so I get into the passenger seat of his car.

  “Hey, do you mind if we swing by the Marriott? I got this stuff for the guys and then maybe we can grab a bite to eat or something and catch up.”

  “Um, I think my housemates already ordered pizza for an early dinner tonight,” I lie. Is he seriously trying to get me to go out with him again? “So, Wolfe?” I attempt to get him back on track before he gets ahead of himself.

  “Right. You know, the guys are going to want to hear all this and say hi to you, so why don’t we just go over all of it together, yeah?”

  “You mean, at the hotel? Why are they in Brockton, anyway?” I’m trying not to sound judgmental about it, but I’m just not sure why they keep coming back.

  Clayton doesn’t seem to mind my question. “We spend a lot of time in Denver, and it’s nice to get away sometimes. They’ve had fun the last couple times they came up here, so when I said I’d be heading home for a few weeks after the season, a few guys decided to come up for the weekend. It’s just Mitch, Juan and Steve. They’re the only ones who really know about what went down with you and Wolfe. They keep asking about it. They’re worried about you. I just found out on my way over to the store, so I haven’t had a chance to tell them yet.”

  “They were at the meet too?” Surely, a group of Rockies players would have attracted attention and I would have heard about it.

  Clayton hesitates. “No, they didn’t get here on time. Those guys suck at waking up early for anything that’s not a required practice.”

  I realize we’re already at the Marriott, and I’m about to text my housemates to let them know I’ll be a little longer than originally planned, but I’m not in the mood to tell them about Clayton and his crew being back in town. Besides, they were all totally spaced out and probably won’t even notice. This shouldn’t take long. I’m anxious to hear about Wolfe’s arrest and what Clayton knows, and it must be quite the story if he couldn’t just tell me in the car.

  But when we get off the elevator and Clayton slides his card to open the door, I find that we’re the only ones in the hotel room, and Clayton doesn’t seem at all surprised by this fact. Actually, he looks quite pleased with himself. The fear I’d just shed moments earlier seeps back into me, and it’s so heavy this time I feel glued in place, unable to move from where I’m standing in the hotel room entry.

  “Sit down, Pepper,” Clayton commands. “I’ve got a story to tell you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jace

  The call came when Pepper was warming up for her race. It was Wolfe, and he wanted to meet. He was trying to sound controlled and confident but there was a note of fear underneath it, one I
wouldn’t have detected if I wasn’t so intimate with the emotion myself. When I asked what he wanted, he only said that he had information for me and he was planning on turning himself in if we could come to an agreement.

  I took the address and as soon as my girl crossed the finish line, I was on the road. I called Frankie to tell him where I was going, and he insisted on joining me. I picked him up from Lizzie’s place and we made it to the Denver address in record time. It was a duplex in a decent neighborhood, and Wolfe opened the door as we approached.

  He eyed Frankie for a long time, asked if he was a cop, and then let us inside. I’d thought about calling my cop friend, but had decided against it. Some things are better handled without law enforcement, and I had a feeling this might be one of those things. The place was clean and sparsely decorated. As far as I could tell, no one else was around.

  The conversation began with a strange negotiation. I didn’t really know what we were negotiating at first and we were dancing around each other. “I’ve got important information,” he kept saying, “and in return, I want your girl to drop the charges.”

  “First of all,” I told him, “Pepper isn’t a prosecutor. She doesn’t decide whether to press charges.”

  “She can drop her testimony or statement or whatever,” Wolfe urged.

  It was a pointless back and forth, and what was he going to do, take my word for it? Besides, I would never agree to anything without Pepper’s consent. In the end, I told him it depended on what he had to tell me. “If I bring everything I have against you, you’re going to be put away for a long time. If I don’t, you might be able to work a decent deal on what you most recently pulled. It really depends on what you’ve got to tell me.”