"So you're all checked in and the rest of us will be here when you finish." Clint and Bentley were so generous to come and cheer me on along with Amber and Ryan, my parents, and James. Clint's been so spectacular through my entire workout regimen and I'm happy he's there with everyone else to support me since I don't have Jay.
Speaking of Jay, I stand on my tiptoes searching through the sea of people for him.
"If he is here, I doubt you'll run into him." Amber places her hand on my shoulder.
Ever since I literally bumped into him on the street on Labor Day, I can't seem to get him out of my mind. For all I know, he's moved on, and his plate is full with his ex-partner and starting from scratch. He made it quite clear he didn't want a relationship with me because I'm a mom. He can claim the reason is because I lied about Daniel, or I can believe he's not prepared to handle dating someone with a child. Either way, he made the right choice. I didn't by letting him walk away. He never did call me to get together. I guess that says all I need to know.
"I know. I know." James calls out for me and I give him a kiss and tell him I'll see him in a bit. I can run one mile in about twelve minutes on a great day, so I hope to be done in about thirty-five. My fitness tracker is secure on my wrist and I'm ready to go. "Thank you all for coming, and I'll meet you at the finish line."
Everyone pre-congratulates me, even my dad, who offers a big hug. I don't look away as they head off to the finish line, where I'll be soon.
The race starts in less than twenty minutes, so I find a spot to cycle through some stretches. My legs will be tight and I'll regret it if I don't stretch my hamstrings or quads. A few people smile and say hello. The crowd of people seems very nice, and I'm glad I'm among them. I wish I had someone to run with me. At least my music will keep me company. I reach for my phone and realize I gave it along with my armband to my mom and she forgot to hand them to me before they left. Great. Now I must get through these three miles listening only to the stomping of feet.
I retie my shoes, pull my socks up just above my ankles, and double check my number is still attached to my back. A couple deep breaths later, and I'm all set. I don't want to be in the front, or way in the back, so I finagle my way until I'm where I think is probably the center of the racers for my pace. How does this begin? Do I get down in a running stance? Should I put my arms up like I'm about to pump them as I race forward? Stand there until they give the signal to go? I'm trying to figure this out when it's too late - it's time to race!
We're moving at a crawl with all the people in my wave. After about 30 seconds or so I'm able to spread my legs a little farther and transition into a soft jog. I don't want to move too quickly and use all my fuel right away. My goal is to run the entire 5K without having to stop.
In a matter of moments, people are passing me and I'm worried I'm in last place. I understand I'm not racing against the other people, but I don't want to be the last one crossing the finish line either. Even though I'm in a competition against myself, I set my goal of 35 minutes and I intend to keep it.
As I jog I try to catch a glimpse of the beautifully changing leaves around me. I love fall in Wisconsin. The trees are filled with color and the air is crisp but not cold. The temperature outside is still a balmy fifty degrees. Less than a mile into my run, I'm already starting to get hot.
The further I go my head starts to hurt a little bit and I realize I need to concentrate on a focal point. Being distracted by the beauty around me is soothing, but I'm not going to make it through the race if I don't focus. A group of girls are ahead of me in bright purple matching shirts. I keep an eye on them as I push through the first mile.
As I enter into my second one, I check my fitness tracker and my heart rate is level and I feel it. My breathing is at a steady pace, my legs are not tired, and I'm smiling. I even bypass the first water station. I can do this, though I can't believe I'm running a 5K. Six months ago I couldn't even walk one mile without being completely out of breath. Now running a mile is a cinch. I'm incredibly proud of my accomplishments, and I'm even more proud that I can acknowledge it.
A runner zooms past me, nearly causing me to lose my focus and trip over my own feet. "Asshole," I say under my breath and take note of his number. Runner number 1234, I'm coming for you and your stupid number. That's definitely a number I can't forget and I fully intend to give him a piece of my mind about how inconsiderate of a person he is after I cross the finish line.
A glance at my wrist shows I completed the second mile and am entering the final phase. My body starts to slow down, and my legs feel like I'm trudging through mud. This is my farthest run without stopping. I can't stop now though. I must keep running, even if at this pace I'm barely jogging. My feet almost drag across the pavement and walkers are passing me. If I'm still bouncing as I move it's still considered a jog right?
It's no use. I need to listen to my body and catch my breath. I glance behind me before shifting over to the left so I'm out of everyone's way. Participants whiz by me, but no one bothers to look my way. The very few that do simply smile. I smile back as best I can but my hands are planted on my hips as I'm starting to heave to catch air. I'm an idiot for having bypassed water stations on the run. Even if I'm trying to prove something, I need to be smart about it.
You've got this, Chelsea. Keep moving. Don't let yourself down. James is waiting for you.
My little self pep talk works and I shake off my exhaustion and push forward.
My cotton ball mouth needs water desperately. The finish line is about two city blocks away. My side is aching and my heart is beating in my ears. As I reach the homestretch, I want to fall to the ground. Tons of people wait at the end waving their hands in the air and I search the crowd for my family and friends.
That's when I spot him. Number 1234 standing a few feet beyond the finish line, and he's looking right at me.
Jay.
chapter thirty-three
Freaking number 1234, who zipped past me like a bat out of hell, is Jay, and he's standing at the finish line, waving me in. He's motioning me toward him, a beaming smile enticing me. Does he realize what a jerk he was just moments before? I, unfortunately, don't see my family yet, and he's the only one I recognize in my view. The race clock's bright red light reads 31:49 underneath the huge, florescent green banner that displays FINISH. If I sprint this, I'll finish in thirty-two minutes. I'll beat what I originally set out to accomplish.
I suck in the air, puff out my chest and bolt. I'm running faster than ever before. My smile has turned into a knot as I push my lips together with force. My arms are starting to hurt as I pump them up and down, but I reach the finish line in three ... two ... one!
I cross over the line, a burst of pride radiating through me, and I already taste the tears running down my face. Of course it might be sweat, too Jay approaches me and hands me a bottle of water.
"Congratulations, Chelsea! You did it!"
I take the water, suck down almost half, and without a second thought, splash the rest onto him, soaking his shirt. Take that, water boy.
"What was that for?" He backs up with his hands up in surrender, but he's laughing.
"Do I look like I think this is funny?" I say as I try to catch my breath. "What the hell was your problem back there?" I'm still struggling to breathe, but that isn't going to stop me from reaming him for being such an asshole.
"I have no clue what you're talking about." The smirk on his face tells me otherwise. "Was dousing me in water really necessary?"
"Yes! You almost knocked me down in the middle of the race!"
He pulls his shirt away from his body, and it clings right back. "That was you? Sorry about that." He winks at me and I want nothing more than to punch him in the gut. I'm doing awesome in my boxing class, so he better be careful.
"Yes, it was me. And you probably almost ran into some other people, too. I didn't realize you're so inconsiderate." He doesn't speak, only continues to smile at me, infuriating me more. "You kn
ew it was me, didn't you?" I point my finger at him until I poke him in the stomach. Damn, his abs are hard.
"Guilty."
"Why did you do that?" His smirk is hitting me in the heart, and every part of my body that's covered by fabric. I'm not sure if my undies are wet from sweat or how turned on I am.
He guides me out of the way of the other runners. "You finished, didn't you?"
"What?" Of course I did. He watched me complete the race.
"You wanted to quit. You were close. Once I left you in the dust, you forced yourself to finish."
I'm appalled at his theory. My panties dry up immediately. "Wait. You think I made it to the end because of you? Do you want to be my hero or something? Is that what you're doing here?" I don't need saving. I'm strong enough on my own, dammit.
Jay squeezes some water out of his shirt. "I raced behind you the whole time. You amazed me. No matter what, you refused to walk. I thought you were about to give up, so I gave you some fuel to keep going."
I spot Amber in the distance, and my parents are right beside her, James napping in the stroller. Their faces show how incredibly proud they are, and they never lost faith in me the entire time. "I have my own fuel," I say to Jay, as I push past him toward my family.
"Chelsea!"
I keep walking as he calls out my name again. "Jay, don't." I turn around and he's staring at me, confused. "I can't do this. Not now. You left. Don't act like nothing happened."
"I've been doing some thinking."
"Yeah, me, too." Except I hadn't. Not until that moment. As much as I want to be with him, I don't need to be with him. I completed this 5K on my own. I did it by myself, whether he thinks so or not. "This is best, with us apart. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a celebration to attend."
I turn my back to him and strut off, not sure when my heart rate will return to normal, if it ever will.
•••
We celebrate my victory with pizza and games. Sure, not the healthiest choice, but, damn, I completed a three-mile-run. I can afford a slice. So, I award myself with only one, and a small salad on the side. I play with James in the arcade for a bit. He gets a kick out of pretending to steer the car in pretend races.
After our meal, I thank everyone for their support, and excuse myself to the bathroom. I need to get some air. My adrenaline is still rushing from the race, and from telling Jay off. I wish he approached me before we ran. My anger would have instead been relief and excitement. I want so much to be back with him, but I'm in shock over what he did. I can't believe he thought for a second he could swoop in and act like my knight in shining armor or something. He thinks he can disappear for a few months and show up like nothing happened? I don't think so. I'm more than upset. I'm pissed as hell.
I splash some cold water on my face. The water drips onto my shirt as I grab a paper towel. As mad as I am, I keep seeing Jay's smiling face, and how he didn't care I doused him with water. His grin is locked into my brain. Those eyes, that hair, his touch ... I miss his hands on me in the worst way. No. I made a decision. I don't need him.
"Chelsea? Are you okay?" Amber says as she opens the swinging door.
I'm staring at myself in the mirror, this woman I've become, and I'm proud and happy, but still, something is missing. "I don't know."
The door creaks as it shuts, and she stands behind me. "Look at you, girl. You just did something you never thought you could do. That's something to cheer about."
"I know, and I am. Trust me. I don't think I could be any more proud of myself than I am today."
"So what's the problem?"
I push off the counter and turn to face my friend. "I told Jay off after the run."
"I saw you talking to him. What happened?" A toilet flushes and we wait as a young lady washes her hands and leaves the bathroom. "Did he say something to upset you?"
"I just freaked out. He told me he raced past me to try and push me along, and I accused him of trying to save me."
"From what?"
"He doubted my ability to finish. During the race, he didn't stop to run with me. He almost knocked me down, and then had the nerve to stand at the finish line and wave me in."
"Oh, no!" Amber plants her hands on her cheeks like Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone. "This attractive man with his shit together attempted to show you he cares by offering support. What a jerk!" I roll my eyes as she juts her hip out and takes a stance. "You don't need that kind of positivity in your life."
I'm being ridiculous and leave it to Amber to point it out. Completing the run filled me with such satisfaction but running into Jay's arms at the end would have made it even better. I'm stubborn. I always have been. She stares at me with her huge eyes, pushing her lips together until she spits into a laugh. I follow.
"Want me to tell you the best part?" She nods. "I threw my water on him. He waited for me and I dumped water on him." My laughter transforms into tears. "What's the matter with me?"
"Oh, Chelsea." She joins me, standing next to me at the counter and putting her arm around me. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're hurt. You're scared." She leans her head on my shoulder and immediately lifts it back up. "And you stink."
I snort through the tears. "I know. I really have to shower."
And pee. Desperately.
chapter thirty-four
Amber comes back to my house with me and plays with James while I shower. Clint and Bentley made plans to go to a movie, and my parents are too worn out after standing in the sun all morning and chasing after a toddler around at the pizza place.
I set the two of them up with some finger paints. That will keep her entertained and him occupied for quite awhile. James loves to paint and never gets bored while doing so.
I take a long, hot ten-minute shower, and when I step out my legs are stiff. I didn't stretch after the run; I was too busy giving Jay a what-for. I doubt stretching now will make any difference, but when I workout tomorrow, I'll need to do extra ones. Maybe I should try some yoga, something that focuses on elongating my body, because, wow, my thighs are like wood.
I don't plan on going out again tonight, so I decide to let my hair air dry, and I toss on a tee shirt and capri pajama bottoms. Amber doesn't care if I'm dressed up or not, and James, well he practically lives in pajamas.
The kitchen table is a disaster. Papers dabbed with orange, green, red, and blue finger and hand prints are scattered throughout, the table is smeared with paint, and James looks like he's auditioning to be a clown. He's having the time of his life, and from the grin on Amber's face, I can tell she is, too.
"What did you make me?" I interrupt their van Gogh session.
Amber hands me a masterpiece he painted, which is a bunch of scribbled lines, but I think it's perfect. "You did a great job!" I praise him. "Thank you so much!" I'll hang this up at work. I think I should start bringing some of my home life into my cubicle; some photos, drawings, and cards. I may be happier at the office.
"You're the scrapbooker - perhaps he'll be an artist."
I don't want James to grow up too fast, but I'm anxious for him to put his potential to the test and discover where his interests and talents lie.
"How do you feel?" Amber begins cleaning up as I take a seat and start to create something.
"Great. My legs are killing me, but I'm refreshed." I dip my finger in the yellow and brush the sun across the paper. This is my go-to picture. I can't draw anything, much less paint it. The sun, a tree, and some grass, possibly a flower - that's my typical scene. Nothing is wrong with that, but I do a terrible job creating it. Still, my pictures bring in the sunshine and who can complain about that?
Amber takes the finished paintings and lines them up along the counter to dry. "Do you think you're going to talk to Jay?"
"I should, shouldn't I?"
"Yes! Don't throw away a potentially wonderful relationship because of Daniel, because, you know that's what's holding you back. Don't let him take over your life."
She's one hun
dred percent correct. He never said he wants to get back together, though. He probably categorizes me as a friend, and I don't think I can be just friends with him. Whenever I run into him, I only want to touch him and kiss him. I can't be platonic with him.
"Why can't this be easy?"
She wets a rag. "Because it can't. Nothing in life is simple. You have to work at it and make things happen."
My picture is done, and my fingers are covered in paint. "I need to wash my hands." I love painting with James, but I can't stand the way it coats my skin. I'll say, though, washable paints are the best invention ever. In a matter of thirty seconds, there's not even a trace of color on my fingers. "How are things with Ryan?"
Amber stops cleaning the table. "Oh my God, Chelsea, he's awesome. Hanging out with him is so much fun. We're not sure if we should talk to Barb about our relationship, though."
"It's not like he's your supervisor or vice-versa. It's none of her business. Wait - are you exclusive?"
She nods and a little squeak escapes like she's a teenager.
"I'm so happy for you! We should celebrate. We can go to dinner or something. How about Tuesday?"
She pulls out her phone and checks her calendar. "The sixth? I can't."
I freeze. "Is Tuesday is the sixth?"
"Yeah. Today's the third, so Tuesday's the sixth." She starts to wipe down James for me.
I race to the wall calendar, flipping back to September and then August. I count the days. Had I ... no, it's been over thirty days ... I've never missed a month ... no, not again, not with Daniel. We used something, but condoms aren't one-hundred percent. And with that, I burst into tears.
Jay Walking (Pastime Pursuits #2) Page 17
