by Kylie Key
Millie showed up alone. I was both relieved and disappointed at the same time. But I perked up when Millie proudly told us she was twenty nine days alcohol-free, and that Cole was seventeen days, done on his own initiative. She said there had been a distinct change in him since they’d agreed to do the marathon.
“Must say, it’s all thanks to you, honeybunch,” she called over her shoulder to me in the backseat.
“I don’t think so,” I mumbled, my cheeks blushing profusely, even though no one was looking at me. I couldn’t take credit for Cole’s miraculous transformation.
“Oh yes, you’ve been an inspiration to both of us,” Millie said, but I couldn’t help but think that not enough to make him want to join the team for a training session. He was going to be one of those annoying people who could walk 26 miles at the drop of a hat, without raising a sweat, puffing or getting sore feet.
There were fourteen of us assembled at the meeting point, everybody urged to bring a water bottle and a hat and some of us had our earphones and playlists ready to go. It had been estimated that a thirteen mile walk would take about three and a half to four hours, if we followed Malachi’s pace. People were encouraged to go faster if they wanted, but I had no intentions of shooting off ahead—I was happy to stay with the group.
I was surprised Ainsley and Logan weren’t there, but Domi said Ainsley had a dance class, which seemed odd for a Sunday. I introduced Millie to Malachi and the girls, and had Trieste whispering in my ear, “Where’s Cole?”
Just as I gave an indifferent shrug, she said, “Oh, there he is,” making me spin around faster than a fidget spinner.
Cole joined his mother, who then introduced him to Malachi. They struck up a conversation, so I stood back, crouching down to retie my shoe laces, but really I was assessing the tank top, running shorts, sunglasses and backwards cap he was wearing. Why did my eyes gravitate to him like bees to a honeypot? Or is that bears to a honeypot? Gah...why could I never think straight in his presence?
“Mmmm,” Trieste squatted down beside me, “he looks just as good from this viewpoint, doesn’t he?”
“What?” I growled, though I knew exactly what she was talking about, “I’m trying to tie my laces.” Trieste snickered. Annoyingly. “You try tying laces with restricted fingers,” I retorted, “it isn’t easy.”
“No, I’m sure it isn’t,” Trieste said, patting me on the back in a patronizing manner, “let me help you.”
“I’ve done it now,” I snapped, standing back up. She stood next to me, doing a side stretch, a stupid smirk on her face.
“I’m teasing, Selina,” she said, nudging my elbow. “You know, I’m just teasing.”
Dominique's mother called us all to the start line, and there was a unified buzz of excitement as everyone started their watches and phone apps. I tucked my phone securely into my sports armband, looking up to see Cole waving to get my attention. I smiled and waved back, my heart rate elevated before I’d taken a single step. The next second we were racing off like a herd of buffalo.
For the first fifty yards it felt like we were in an Olympic final, as we all jostled for position. I had severe doubts that I would be able to keep up. But after a hundred yards or so, the pace evened out and I settled in next to Ella and her sister, Ferne.
Cole and his Mom had stridden off to the front of the pack, allowing me a moment of self-satisfaction that I had contributed to their improved relationship.
I turned up my volume and let myself get lost in the music.
AT THE HALFWAY POINT Felix and his mom were handing out energy drinks, candy and bananas. Just as I arrived, Cole was ready to head back, having refuelled. His skin had a shiny glow to it, a sheen of perspiration, and a trail of sweat darkened the front of his top. Usually a sweaty, teenage boy would be disgusting, but oddly, I found it madly attractive.
“How are you going?” he asked, as he tossed a banana peel into the trash bag.
“Okay,” I said, though my legs were aching and my cast felt heavy and itchy, “how about you?”
“Yeah, good, but my feet are feeling it.” He laughed. “Pretty sure I can feel a blister coming up on my little toe.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised at his honesty. Top athletes like him wouldn’t normally admit to weakness or injury. “Felix has some plasters.”
“It’ll be fine,” he said, with the grin of someone who is bullet-proof. “I’ll catch you later.”
And with that he joined his Mom, Aunt Vicky and several others in the lead group, including, of all people, Trieste. I downed a cup of Gatorade and swallowed a handful of jellybeans, hoping that it would supply the energy I needed to get me back.
It was Ferne who was struggling the most, her shins were tight and painful and she winced with each footstep. It made me appreciate that I was actually doing okay. And so was Malachi. If he was in pain, he never said.
Malachi’s mantra was: Walking in pain is better than not walking at all. When he was in hospital, it had been uncertain as to whether he’d be able to walk normally after the skin grafts to his leg and foot. Though he had a slight limp, it was nothing that was going to get in the way of his goal.
We made it back in under four hours, but Cole, who had finished long before, had already gone. It was disappointing that he hadn't bothered to wait around for the team, not even his mother, but I supposed I should be grateful that he had at least showed up. My heart did a silly slumping thing again, which was weird, because I was surrounded by all my favorite people in the whole wide world, excluding Dad, Charlie and Hayley.
They had said they would come down and meet us at the finish line, but when we drove home, it was obvious that they had been busy with other plans. In the driveway sat a brand new car, a replica of Doris, but in Metallic White.
“Much safer color,” Dad said. “Let’s christen her Doris 2.”
I stared, and not in a state of shock, but a state of disillusionment. This meant I was going to have to drive again. I had gotten used to being driven around, and none of my friends had complained. At least, not to my face.
“She’s a newer model,” Dad said, and he made me sit in the driver’s seat and went through the improvements. I didn’t care about the high quality fabric or the extra trunk space.
“My cast doesn’t come off for another two weeks,” I said, “you better put it in the garage.”
“Maybe the doctor will take it off this week,” Mom said, reminding me that I had a checkup appointment.
“But I’ll have physical therapy,” I said, “I thought I couldn’t drive until after that.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine to go to school and back,” Dad said with a wink.
I nodded, not wanting to think about it. “Anyway, I need to shower,” I said. Doris 2 was nice, but I couldn’t conjure up any love for her.
If anything, there was resentment.
Doris 2 was going to expose me.
MILLIE TOLD US TO COME over and soak in their hot tub. She said it would soothe our muscles and improve recovery. Considering I had to walk to school the next day, I didn’t hesitate. Plus it meant I didn't have to think about the car. It was one advantage the neighbor's house had over ours. Our heated pool was nice, but the jacuzzi jets did sound good.
Mom was keen, as her legs were starting to stiffen up. Hayley wanted to come too, so we changed into our bathing suits and grabbed our towels, and I covered my cast in a plastic bag.
Millie was the perfect hostess, setting out a tray of drinks and cheeses and grapes. We sat and talked about the walk and how hard it had been, lamenting the fact that we had only walked half the distance that we would be doing on marathon day. It seemed a daunting task but we were highly motivated to keep training, and there was a sense of accomplishment at having completed the distance. Millie was especially impressed by Malachi and talked about the possibility of doing an interview with him for her station’s news program and promoting the burn survivors charity.
It wasn’t long befor
e Mom declared she was too hot and starting to go wrinkly. Millie got out too, but she told me and Hayley to stay as long as we wanted. With only two of us in the tub, I was able to stretch out and get the jets blasting onto my sore calves.
I closed my eyes and floated, my cast resting on the ledge of the pool, the water soothing my achey muscles, when a sudden shout from Ryan jolted me to full alertness.
"Hey! Pool party!"
I scrambled to an upright position, protecting my arm, as Ryan plunged into the pool. Standing right behind him was Cole, mirrored sunglasses concealing the direction of his gaze.
My immediate thought was to get out, but that would mean standing up and revealing myself in my swimsuit, and I didn't want to do that, not in front of this perfect specimen with his abs of steel. Instead, I immersed myself to neck height, my arm raised above me. I prayed I'd shaved my underarms.
"Hay-leeeeey," Ryan playfully splashed around, as he moved to sit beside her. Cole perched himself on the edge, dangling his toes in.
"How are your legs?" he asked.
"Sore. How about you?"
"My feet are sore. I thought it would be a breeze," he said, "but it was way harder than I expected." He slid his way down under the water, his leg knocking against me. We both apologized.
"Well, you did set quite a pace with your Mom,” I said.
"Your purple haired friend sure can walk fast," Cole said, his drifting leg brushed against mine again. This time he didn't apologize.
"Yeah, she can," I said, a ridiculous stab of jealousy hitting me. Why did he seem to notice my friends all the time? "Her boyfriend was giving out the energy drinks and bananas." I emphasized the words, making sure he knew it was Felix who had given him a banana.
Cole looked slightly bemused. "She's cool. And Malachi seems like a great guy.”
“Yes, he is,” I said, “he really is.”
"Is that your new car?" Ryan asked me.
"Yep, that's Sleena's new car," Hayley gave a detailed explanation of going to pick it up as a surprise while we were on the walk.
Cole lifted his sunglasses up onto the top of his head, revealing his dark, dreamy eyes were watching me. "So, you'll be back driving soon?” he asked.
"Uh, not until my cast is off. And then I'll have weeks of physical therapy," I said, sounding as if I had some serious, life-threatening medical condition, and not a simple fractured bone.
"Oh? So I might still get the opportunity to drive you around?" It felt like he was flirting, but I was probably reading it wrong. After all, his brother and my little sister were right there with us.
"My friends are pretty good with giving me rides,” I said.
“The offer is still open,” he said, our legs bumping again.
“I think it’s time I got out,” I said, "The tub is making me overheat." Oh, I was overheating all right, but it wasn't from the water. I estimated I had four steps, or maybe three long strides over to reach my towel. I put my good hand back to balance myself as I jumped out, but in my haste my foot slipped on the wet tile. I squealed, but with lightning speed, Cole saved me from an ungraceful and embarrassing fall.
"Hey, careful there," he said.
"I'm fine," I said, righting myself quickly, his touch doing nothing to alleviate my flushed feeling.
"Are you sure?" His hand was wrapped around my arm, supporting me when I no longer needed support. "Let me get your towel."
"Selina's is the pink one, mine's the llama one." Hayely had followed me out. Somehow she had managed to do it without making a fool of herself.
With a smile, Cole released me as if I was a delicate flower, his eyes lingering a little as he scanned down my strapless one piece. Ainsley had picked it for me; she'd said the high cut leg line made me look taller and slimmer (than whom, I wasn't sure), but standing this close to Cole, I felt like a dwarf. He grabbed the towels, handing Hayley her one first, then he held out mine, grinning at the sight of SpongeBob and Patrick. I quickly wrapped it around me.
Cole went to the gate, holding it open for us. Ryan called out that he'd be over later to game with Charlie. I nodded and waved, thanking them for the use of the pool. And then I put my arm around Hayley and, head down, guided her home.
IT WAS ALMOST A FEELING of dismay when the nurse at the medical center removed my cast and said that I wouldn’t need another one. She was intending to reapply a shorter one, but was so happy with my healing that she gave me a brace instead. Most people would be thrilled to get rid of an annoying, itchy cast, but it was only when she recommended not driving that I perked up.
The brace wrapped around my palm and supported my wrist, making my arm more comfortable, but she reiterated that I practice caution and wear it at all times. I could see it would definitely make life a lot easier.
It was frustrating that I was excluded from piano lessons, yoga and swimming, so much so that the marathon training, especially the long walks, were something I looked forward to. Also, I’d become a regular at the kids’ Little League games, though the appeal was probably more the ice cream we went for afterward.
I was convinced this was the only reason Hayley continued to play. Every week she tried to misplace her sneakers or uniform, or get lost at the back of the queue so that her participation was minimal. The coaching session Dad had given her at home had ended badly—Hayley shouting and Dad losing his patience and both of them virtually storming off in tears.
It had been another disastrous morning for Hayley, made worse by a kid in the opposing team laughing at her every time she didn’t hit the ball. I couldn’t understand how her coach hadn’t helped her with her technique.
"I'll teach you when we get home," I declared, as we ordered our double scoop rocky road ice creams, "I'll be better than George. Girls rule!"
Hayley nodded, poking her tongue out at Dad, who pretended to scowl.
I had to disguise the coaching session as a picnic, otherwise Hayley wouldn't have a bar of it. Ice cream made her agree to anything, but I had no illusions she was a willing participant. I would have to be sneaky. I laid out my SpongeBob blanket and brought her llama pillows and soft toys out on the lawn area, behind our pool. Dad set the tee-ball gear up and then I made him disappear.
Hayley really was in picnic mode. She brought out plastic plates and cups and cookies and juice and every little llama toy she owned. I scrolled through my phone, enjoying the sun on my legs as she 'fed' her llamas.
"Okay, the llamas need some exercise," I said, "let's have a game of tee-ball.” I spoke in a high-pitched llama voice. "I'll go first." And I took a pink one with me up to the stand.
"That's Lucy," Hayley said.
"Okay, Lucy Llama is batting." I sat Lucy beside the stand and held the bat in my right hand. With my left in the brace, it was going to be awkward, but I was confident that even one-handed I'd be able to hit the ball. "Here goes Lucy," I gave a running commentary, "she swings back her bat, she keeps her eye on the ball, and then she hits it and—"
Hayley and I watched the ball sail up into the sky—and over the fence into the neighbor's backyard.
"Oops," my Lucy Llama voice said.
"Game over," Hayley said, with a degree of smugness.
"I'll get Charlie to get it later," I said, deflated. I was going to have to join George in the ranks of failed coach.
I took Lucy back to the blanket and gratefully took the cookie Hayley offered.
"Now we can put the llamas to sleep. They need a nap after tee-ball,” she said, and I realized she'd played me—my little sister had no intention of playing tee-ball, I would be spending the afternoon talking in llama voices.
The rattling of the pool gate made us turn our heads. "This ball belong to anyone?" Cole was making his way towards us, wayward ball in hand, and wearing only a pair of swim shorts.
The familiar face flush was back. Gah...why did my body betray me so viciously...it was like a chemical reaction whenever I saw him, as if molecules were physically colliding, imploding, sendin
g me into another stratosphere.
"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," I said, standing up to greet him and retrieve the baseball, my eyes trying to divert from the firm chest, defined shoulders and flat stomach.
"Selina hit it too far," Hayley said with a giggle.
Cole's eyes seemed to light up. "Y'all got a game of tee-ball happening?"
"The llamas are playing," Hayley said.
"Llamas?"
I held up Lucy, the culprit. "She hit it over the fence," I said with a grimace, and silently mouthed, "I'm trying to teach her how to hit the ball."
Cole grinned, though I wasn't sure if he understood what I said. "I like a good game of tee-ball," he said and he crouched down next to Hayley, "and you're looking at the MVP four years running." He tossed the ball from hand to hand.
I rolled my eyes, but Hayley was impressed. "You've got trophies?"
"A whole shelf of them. Might even have one for best hitter."
"Show me!" Hayley said. Oh, I could see it, she was going to play him, too—distract him and take an interest in his awards. What a clever little girl!
"Maybe later," Cole said casually, "but let me see how good I am." He stood up and placed the ball on the tee. "You got a bat?" He looked around as if he couldn't see it.
Hayley jumped up and handed it to him. I was intrigued; this wasn't pomp or boasting, he was somehow engaging Hayley to get involved.
"Okay," he said, positioning himself by the tee, "Wait! Stand back Hayley, don't want to hit you." He shifted her to the side, and held the bat ready.
"You're left handed? So is Hayley!" I said, as if I'd just made the most important observation in the history of mankind.
Cole looked across and winked at me. I almost melted.
"Righto, here I go," he said, his eyes on Hayley, and he took a gentle swing, the ball sailing across the lawn in a controlled arc.
"Here, let me try," Hayley said, as she ran to scoop up the ball and returned it to the tee stand. I'd never seen her run so fast.
