Anything But Last

Maya's lungs burned like someone had lit a fire in her chest. Again. Sixth period PE—aka the seventh circle of hell—and Coach Miller had them running laps until she'd personally ensured every freshman questioned their life choices.

"Pick it up, Garcia!" Coach Miller barked from her spot on the bleachers, where she sat like a queen on a throne, sipping from a massive water bottle like she was the one suffering.

Maya's legs felt like they'd been replaced with lead pipes. She'd joined the cross-country team on a whim—okay, on a desperate attempt to get closer to Jordan, the sophomore with the effortless smile who somehow made sweat look cute. Big mistake. Huge.

At lunch, she'd sat alone (again) and forced herself to eat that sad cafeteria spinach salad while watching Jordan laugh with their friends at the popular table. Social pyramid, much? Maya was somewhere in the basement, probably below the actual cafeteria staff.

"You're doing it wrong," a voice said beside her.

Maya almost tripped. Chloe, the junior team captain, was matching her pace effortlessly. Her hair was a perfect messy bun. Her skin was glowing. Meanwhile, Maya looked like she'd gone swimming in her clothes.

"You're holding your breath," Chloe continued, like this was normal conversation while running in circles. "Breathe in for three steps, out for three. You're literally killing yourself out here."

Maya tried it. In, two, three. Out, two, three. Her ribs screamed, but suddenly there was more air. More space.

"Why do you do it?" Maya wheezed. "The running thing. It's awful."

Chloe laughed, but not in a mean way. "Same reason as anyone. Something to prove. Someone to notice. The usual bullshit."

They ran in silence for a lap. Maya's heart rate slowed. The lead in her legs lightened.

"Jordan's not gonna date you just because you run, by the way," Chloe said suddenly.

Maya nearly face-planted. "I—what?"

"Please. Everyone knows. You stare at them during practice like they're the last water bottle in the desert. It's tragic." Chloe grinned. "But hey, at least you're running for something now."

They finished the lap together. Maya wasn't last. She wasn't first, but she wasn't last.

"Tomorrow?" Chloe asked, already walking away.

"Tomorrow," Maya agreed.

Her legs still burned. Her lungs still ached. But for the first time, she didn't hate it. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was everything.