by L B Pavlov
Everything started to spin. I couldn’t feel anything, and my legs seemed to be flying. My entire body was numb. I could see some bright colors right in front of me, which I assumed was the finish chute. It, too, was spinning. I made a final surge and pulled right in front of Katrina, and I hoped to God that what I had just thrown myself into was the chute.
I looked up to make sure that I was, in fact, in the finish chute. I had actually beaten her. I had done it. There were hands on me; they were desperately trying to assist me to stand. I couldn’t feel my legs. I couldn’t feel my arms. The ground was spinning, and I wasn’t getting air. My God, I thought, I can’t breathe. I was forcing myself to stand on what I could only assume were my two feet.
I heard an unfamiliar voice yell loudly in my ear, “Congratulations!” I had won the state meet. I felt like I was gasping for air now. I couldn’t stand on my own; my legs were giving out from underneath me. And then I felt him: two familiar hands grabbed me, and I heard his sweet voice. “Charlotte, I’ve got you, baby, are you OK? Oh my God, you’re bleeding,” he said with panic in his voice. I was safe; I was with Daniel. I could close my eyes for just a minute now.
She had amazed everyone who had witnessed what had happened. I stood at the first aid station, holding her hand after the medics had taken her out of my arms. They set her down and tried to speak to her.
“She’s passed out,” the medic said, concerned.
“What’s her name?” the other medic asked calmly, looking at me.
“Charlotte,” I said. “Is she OK?” I asked nervously.
“Yes, she’ll be fine. Just pushed herself a little hard today, I think,” he said comfortingly, and then he was close to her face. “Charlotte, can you hear me?” he said.
She opened her eyes as if she had just been sleeping. She looked surprised to be there.
She sat up quickly. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t breathe,” she said and tried urgently to get up.
Her dad had just rushed over to find her. “What’s going on? Is she hurt?” He was panicked and impatient.
“I’m fine, Dad, I was just a little dizzy,” she said softly.
“She should be fine, sir,” the medic said, “but I do want to look at this leg,” he added, looking pointedly at her leg.
We all looked down. Charlotte’s leg was covered in both dried blood as well as fresh blood. Her shoe was soaked in blood that had dripped down her leg during the race. Both medics were working on cleaning it, and they seemed surprised by how deep the cuts were. “Wow! These were some serious spikes. They caught you pretty low on the shin, and they seemed to tear through your leg all the way up to the knee cap.” He continued, “What do you think, Bob, I don’t think these will close on their own?”
Bob, the other medic, looked closely at the wound. “It’s Charlotte, right?” he asked to clarify her name.
“Yes,” she said.
“I think you’re going to need to get this stitched or at the very least glued,” he said in a very kind voice.
“Can’t you just put a few bandages on it?” she asked pleadingly. “It really doesn’t hurt that badly.”
“I’m afraid not, sweetie. This will cause you grief if you don’t get it taken care of. Can someone take her over to the hospital right now?” he inquired.
I heard about eight or nine voices say “yes” at the same time. I turned around and realized that many of Charlotte’s teammates, my parents, my brothers, her brothers, Coach Miroballi, Lenora, Charlotte’s dad, and myself were all gathered around. Everyone was concerned, and everyone was offering to take her to the hospital.
She turned to me. “Daniel, will you take me?” she asked sweetly, smiling at everyone else and hoping she had not hurt anyone’s feelings.
“Charlotte, Daniel can take you, but I will need to meet you at the hospital to sign the insurance forms and fill out paperwork. I’m staying until they take care of it, OK, honey?” her dad said cautiously.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, giving him an appreciative smile.
Bob turned and looked at me. “Well, if you’re taking her, I suggest that you get that hand of yours looked at as well, son,” he said, looking at me with equal concern. I realized that he was looking at the blood-soaked towel that was wrapped around my hand.
Charlotte looked over at my hand, and she gasped, “Oh my gosh! What happened? Is that from carrying me?” She sounded horrified.
I started laughing. “No! Of course not!” I laughed some more.
“Daniel had a fight with a tree,” Jack said, also laughing.
“Yeah, but I think the tree won,” Devon said, laughing with Jack.
Charlotte frowned at them both. “Um, Bob, do you think you could take a look at it to make sure it’s OK till we get to the hospital?” she inquired.
“It’s a little cut, and it doesn’t hurt at all,” I said, reassuring her.
Bob had just finished wrapping her entire shin in thick gauze to stop the bleeding.
“For you, Charlotte, I’d be happy to. By the way, that was quite a race you just ran, little lady.” He winked at her.
As Bob unwrapped my towel and began cleaning my hand, everyone started talking to Charlotte about the race. She was calm and humble in the face of all the compliments, and she was more worried about my hand than she needed to be. Once my hand was cleaned up, Bob said it probably didn’t need any further medical treatment. It would just be sore for a few days and probably have a lot of bruising. I had no intention of having it looked at, so I thought that was great news.
Charlotte’s name was being called over the sound system. They were doing the awards ceremony, and they were looking for her.
I went to pick her up. “Absolutely not!” she snapped. “I will go get glued back together, but I ran a race with this cut, I can most certainly walk up there by myself.”
Coach Miroballi agreed. “We certainly don’t need Katrina and her pack of bullies thinking they have harmed her. She showed them how tough she was, let her finish with a bang.”
“Thanks, Coach Miroballi,” Charlotte said, and she hopped up.
She turned and gave Bob and the other medic hugs and thanked them both for their kindness. She grabbed my hand and marched across the field to where they were announcing the winners and presenting the awards. We all stood with her until her name was called.
As Charlotte walked up to receive her award, all of the athletes and spectators who were sitting on the ground watching the ceremony suddenly stood up. They all clapped and cheered for her and all that she had accomplished. She was beaming as she stood at the podium. The number two spot on the stage was empty. Katrina George was not one of the girls disqualified, but she was obviously too ashamed to show her face—or at least that’s what I believed to be true.
Four of the Sentinel girls were disqualified because they had physically touched Charlotte in some way. They couldn’t prove the others had done anything wrong, although everyone knew it to be true. Because of the disqualifications, the Sentinel team did not win the state championship, and neither did Katrina George.
As we were walking to the truck, Charlotte turned to me. “Are you hungry? I’m starving!” she said enthusiastically.
“You’re going to the hospital. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work, Charlotte,” I said.
“Are you serious? Don’t you think that’s a little over the top? Let’s wait and see how it looks in the morning,” she pleaded.
“Nope. Do you want me to go get your dad to take you instead?” I teased.
She pouted a little and agreed to go.
“Charlie! Charlie Ford!” We both turned around to see the Stanford coach jogging toward us. I had completely forgotten that he was there, and obviously so had she.
“Hey, Coach Little,” she said, smiling, and she gave him a hug. “Thanks for coming,” she said sincerely.
“Of course,” he said. “Are you OK? That was quite a race, Charlie! You handled your
self like a true champion,” he said proudly.
Charlotte blushed. “Thank you, Coach Little. Have you met my boyfriend, Daniel?” she asked.
“No, nice to meet you, Daniel,” he said, and we shook hands. “Are you taking her over to the hospital to have that leg looked at?” he asked, concerned.
“Yes, but I’m taking her against her will!” I laughed.
“You need to get that looked at, Charlie, just to be safe,” he said and smiled at both of us.
He told Charlotte that he would be in touch soon, and he looked forward to her being on the Stanford cross-country and track team next year. He reminded her that he would be flying back in two weeks to have her sign her letter of intent. He gave her a hug and said to keep him posted and that he would also come to see her race again during her track season.
I was happy that the day had come to an end. I slipped into bed and thought back to all that had happened that day. The race seemed like a dream. I just couldn’t believe that had really happened. I ended up getting three slices on my shin glued back together. I still felt like it would have healed on its own, but it was a battle I didn’t have the energy to fight. Plus, it would heal quickly now, and I didn’t want to risk delaying my winter training.
Dad was insistent that I do whatever the doctors said to do, and he stayed to fill out paperwork and talk with the doctor. Daniel couldn’t have been sweeter. He held my hand while they glued my cuts and kept asking the doctor all sorts of questions. I was more worried about his hand. It was purple and bruised and looked twice the size of his other hand. I finally pieced it all together and found out that he had punched the tree when I got pushed down.
I was lying in bed wondering how I was going to possibly handle being away from him next year. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I tried to push it out of my mind, and I closed my eyes and just thought about him holding my hand in the hospital.
After the big race, things started getting back to normal. Daniel and I were both done with after-school practices, and I was training on my own during the off-season. Daniel was running with me a few days a week, and when the mileage was too much, he would bike next to me during my runs.
Thanksgiving was approaching, and I always tried to focus on the big family dinner instead of the darkness that came the week before Thanksgiving. My mom had passed away one week before Thanksgiving. Dad always planned big Thanksgiving dinners, and I think he did it to try to distract everyone from feeling sad.
This year Lenora would be cooking for a large group. Her boyfriend Carl and his son Bruce would be joining us. My grandma and grandpa would also be coming this year. Grandpa still seemed to hold a grudge against Dad for getting married and starting a family so young, but Dad wanted us to be close to our grandparents. They were my mom’s parents, and they had loved her very much. Mom had been an only child, and when they lost her, it was beyond difficult for them. The whole Hollingsworth family would also be joining us, and Jack’s girlfriend Sydney would be coming too.
Lenora and I started baking pies and desserts a few days ahead of time. I loved cooking with Lenora. She was a fantastic cook, and I loved to learn from her.
Saturday morning I woke up to meet Daniel for a run. We talked about Thanksgiving and about my meeting with the Stanford coach and signing my letter of intent.
“So, it’s official, we are both going to college,” he said in a bittersweet tone. He looked over at me, and I could see the sadness in his beautiful green eyes.
“Where are you girls going today?” he asked, trying to sound more positive.
“Well, I’m meeting Steph and Kathleen for lunch, and they want to go shopping, which you know isn’t my favorite thing to do,” I said, laughing now.
“It’s good for you. Plus, you need to get some practice before you go prom dress shopping,” he teased.
Daniel’s muscles were so chiseled that running next to him was becoming more difficult for me. I wondered what would happen Tuesday night, the night he always climbed up the tree outside my window to sleep next to me and comfort me.
“What are you thinking about? I know when you’re deep in thought, Charlotte,” he said, curious about the expression on my face.
“Well, you know what Tuesday night is, right?” I asked nervously, watching him to see his reaction.
We were both breathing heavy now from our run, and he paused to get his breathing under control. “Of course I know what Tuesday is. What are you asking me?” he asked, looking at me questioningly.
“Will it be different now, you know, now that we have been intimate?” I said as quietly as I could, considering I was breathing loudly.
Daniel burst out laughing. “Oh, so we’re intimate, are we?” He smiled and shot me the sexiest look I have ever seen.
My heart was pounding so fast I was sure he could hear it. I felt my already red skin flush deeper.
“Well, we kind of are, right?” I asked nervously.
“I’m teasing you, Charlotte. Of course we are. It will be a little more, um, difficult for me now. But I will just have to try to control myself.” He winked.
“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about my dad this year,” I said.
“Why is that?” he inquired.
“He will be in Seattle for business. I think he prefers to be gone on that day so I don’t see how sad he is,” I said with a touch of melancholy.
“Well, that makes my climb up the tree a little less thrilling, of course. The idea of Jack Sr. with a shotgun always got me moving rather spryly,” he said laughing.
“My dad doesn’t own a shotgun,” I replied, laughing, “or at least I don’t think he does.” I contemplated that thought for a moment. Could he own a shotgun? What would he do if he found out that Daniel spent the night in my room once a year?
My mind was jumping around, and I was surprised at what came out next. “Is it hard for you, um, not having sex now that you’re with me?” I blurted out.
Daniel looked extremely surprised by my question, and he paused before he answered. “Um, well, it’s hard not having sex with you. I don’t want to have sex with other girls, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said very honestly.
I couldn’t stop staring at his lips as he spoke. They were plump and pink, and it was impossible to not want to press mine against his.
“You want to have sex with me?” I said, surprised. “I thought you didn’t want to?” I turned to see his response.
He laughed again. “Of course I want to have sex with you. I’m a seventeen-year-old guy with raging hormones. Not to mention I have a gorgeous girlfriend.” He continued laughing. “But I will not allow myself to go there—at least not right now,” he explained.
“Because I’m a virgin?” I asked breathlessly because we had picked up our pace.
“Because you deserve to take your time and not be rushed, Charlotte. But don’t think for one minute that it isn’t a challenge for me every second that I’m with you because it is,” he said, and his eyes were fiery with desire.
“You want to have sex with me right now, this very second?” I said, laughing.
“Yes,” he said without a second’s hesitation.
We both started laughing, and he took off on our final straightaway, so I followed. We raced all the way back to the house. Once we caught our breath and walked to the driveway, he grabbed me and kissed me. It was different from the way he usually kissed me. I could feel his desire in the urgency with which his tongue met mine. He pulled away.
“You’re killing me. I need to go take a long, cold shower,” he said, laughing, and he playfully slapped me on my backside.
“Have fun at lunch and shopping. Call me when you get home, and we can go grab dinner,” he said sweetly.
I needed a long, cold shower myself. Daniel was getting more and more difficult for me to resist.
Steph and Kathleen were my favorite two girls to spend time with. I had grown up with brothers, and my best friend had always been a boy. B
eing with girls was different. It was fun, and they talked about boys and always made me laugh. We sat down for lunch at Macayo’s, our favorite Mexican restaurant, and before my hand hit the basket of chips, Steph was her usual blunt self. “Are you having sex with Daniel yet?” she chirped out as if she was asking me to pass the salsa.
“Steph!” Kathleen shouted as she spit out her sip of water across the table.
“Seriously? Aren’t we close enough to ask?” Steph said.
“You can ask me anything you want to,” I said, “but no, I am not having sex with Daniel,” I said just as bluntly.
“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asked.
“Steph! Sometimes you just say whatever you’re thinking, don’t you?” Kathleen said, laughing.
“Well, we’re friends. And friends can talk about anything, so…” she said, looking at me as she dipped her chip into the salsa.
“I’m not upset about it. He thinks we should take it slowly. But I’ve known him most of my life. I know he has dated other girls, and I don’t want him to, um…” I paused, trying to figure out what I was trying to say.
“You don’t want him to take his business to another bank, right?” Steph offered.
“No. I’m not worried he’ll cheat on me. Daniel isn’t like that. But I don’t want him to…be unsatisfied,” I said, a little embarrassed.
“Charlotte, he’ll be fine. Every relationship is different, and Daniel will want what’s best for you,” Kathleen said, giggling. “But he loves you, so it’s probably difficult.”
“Oh please, you two are so proper,” Steph chimed in. We all burst out laughing.
“Well, you know there are other things you can do if you don’t want to do the, um, deed,” she said, still chuckling.
“I’m begging you to stop,” Kathleen said, her mirth vying with discomfort. “Please let us eat lunch without giving us the details.”
“Please, you know that you and Edward are not innocent,” she said, giving Kathleen a curious smile.
