Cross Country Crush

The orange Gatorade splashed against my throat, cool and electric, as I bent over gasping. Third day of cross country tryouts and my lungs felt like they'd been scrubbed with steel wool.

"You're running like you've got a target on your back, freshie," Marcus drawled, leaning against the gym doors. Senior team captain. Six-foot-two of pure intimidation. Total bull of a human being, and he knew it.

I straightened up, trying to look like I wasn't dying inside. "Just pacing myself."

Marcus snorted. "Yeah, okay. We'll see if you make varsity or if you're stuck running JV with the middle schoolers."

The worst part? He was probably right. I'd transferred here three weeks into sophomore year, knowing absolutely nobody. My parents' divorce meant moving across the state, leaving everything familiar behind. Now I was just the new kid, the weirdo who ran alone at lunch because he didn't know where to sit.

That's when I saw her. Harper.

She was stretching by the track, all long limbs and effortless grace. Fox-red hair in a messy bun, wearing these vintage running shorts that somehow looked cool instead of ridiculous. She was everything I wasn't: confident, fast, apparently totally comfortable in her own skin.

"You're staring again," my best friend Jayden whispered, appearing beside me. Jayden, who'd adopted me on day two like a loyal dog adopting a stray. He was lanky, uncoordinated, and somehow the most popular person I knew.

"I'm not staring. I'm observing. For tactical purposes."

"Right. Because knowing that Harper's left foot turns out when she's tired is totally gonna help your 5K time."

The coach's whistle cut through my embarrassment. "Final mile! Sub-6:30 makes varsity!"

My stomach dropped. I'd barely broken 7 minutes last practice.

"Hey," Harper said, suddenly right there beside me. Her voice was lower than I expected, sort of warm and raspy. "You've got good form. Don't let Marcus get in your head."

She winked—actually winked—and took off before I could even respond.

"Did that just happen?" Jayden asked, grinning like an idiot.

I didn't answer. I just ran. Harder than I'd ever run in my life. Pushing past the burning in my legs, past the doubts, past everything. I thought about my dad's disappointed voice on the phone last night. About how alone I'd felt in this town. About how Harper had noticed me—actually seen me—when I'd felt invisible.

I crossed the line at 6:28.

Harper was waiting. She tossed me another orange Gatorade. "Told you you had it in you. Welcome to varsity, new boy."

Maybe this school wouldn't be so bad after all.