Regionals
1018 Words
After my conversation with Elena, I made a decision.
A very mature, responsible decision.
A decision that lasted exactly twelve hours.
I was going to create distance between myself and Jace.
No unnecessary conversations.
No lingering eye contact.
No moments that could be misunderstood.
Simple, reasonable, and impossible because the universe apparently hated me.
The next morning began with Coach Daniels announcing the regional qualifier meet.
The entire relay team erupted into chaos.
Athletes loved competition.
Personally, I blamed a lack of self-preservation.
“Quiet!”
Coach’s whistle cut through the noise.
The team settled immediately.
“Regional qualifiers are this Saturday.”
A wave of excitement swept through the group.
This wasn’t nationals yet but it was the step before it.
The race that determined who advanced.
The race that mattered.
Coach looked down at his clipboard.
Then up again.
“You’ve all worked hard.”
A few athletes exchanged confused looks.
The coach giving compliments felt unnatural.
Like seeing a shark apologize.
“Don’t get used to it,” he added.
There it is.
Balance restored.
Laughter spread across the track.
Coach pointed toward us.
“Now let’s see if all that work actually means something.”
Practice started immediately.
And unfortunately, distancing myself from Jace proved far more difficult than expected.
Mostly because Coach kept pairing us together.
By the end of training, I was convinced it was intentional.
The man clearly enjoyed suffering.
Saturday arrived faster than expected.
The regional stadium sat nearly an hour away from Blackwater.
Which meant an early bus ride.
At six in the morning on a weekend. Such a crime.
The team gathered outside campus while the sun was still rising.
Everyone looked exhausted except Mason.
Who somehow had enough energy for three people.
“Morning, sunshine.”
I groaned.
“Go away.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Still no.”
I considered pushing him into traffic.
The bus ride itself was surprisingly quiet, most athletes slept.
Others listened to music. I sat near the window watching the scenery blur past.
Trying to calm my nerves.
Competition days always affected me differently.
The closer the race got, the louder my heartbeat became.
Everything mattered more.
A figure dropped into the empty seat beside me.
I didn’t need to look.
“Taken.”
“Not anymore.”
It was Jace.
I kept my attention on the window determined and focused.
That lasted about thirty seconds.
“You nervous?”
I sighed.
“A little.”
“A little?”
I looked at him.
“Fine. A lot.”
A small smile appeared.
“Good.”
My jaw dropped.
“What?”
“Nerves mean you care.”
I stared.
“That’s your motivational speech?”
“It’s all you’re getting.”
“Terrible.”
His smile widened slightly.
The bus arrived shortly afterward, and the regional stadium was enormous.
Much larger than Blackwater’s.
Athletes from dozens of schools filled the grounds.
Coaches barked instructions, and spectators crowded the stands.
The atmosphere crackled with energy.
I loved it instantly.
This was why I ran, not for gossip of approval but for this feeling.
The adrenaline, anticipation, and the possibility.
Coach gathered the relay team near the warm-up area.
“Listen carefully.”
The seriousness in his voice immediately caught everyone’s attention.
“This isn’t practice.”
Nobody laughed or spoke.
“Today matters.”
He looked at each of us one by one.
“Run like it.”
The hours leading up to the relay event passed quickly.
Warm-ups, stretching, and preparation.
Then suddenly it was time.
The team assembled near the track.
The crowd noise echoed through the stadium. Loud, electric, and exciting.
My pulse accelerated immediately.
This was it, the relay team took our positions.
I glanced down the track.
Hundreds of eyes watched from the stands.
Including scouts, recruiters, and people who could change futures.
No pressure.
“Ready?”
Jace’s voice reached me from beside the exchange zone.
I looked over he seemed calm, focused, and certain.
The exact opposite of how I felt.
“No.”
A familiar smile appeared.
“Consistent.”
The comment relaxed me slightly just enough.
The official raised the starting pistol, and the stadium quieted.
Everything narrowed the track, the lanes, the race. Nothing else existed.
The gun fired.
Chaos exploded.
Athletes launched forward.
The relay began.
Everything moved quickly after that.
The first runner completed her leg, then the second.
Then it was my turn.
The baton hit my palm and I ran. The world disappeared, noise faded, thoughts vanished.
There was only movement and speed.
Only the track beneath my feet.
I pushed harder faster and stronger.
The exchange zone approached Jace, who was already moving waiting, and ready.
I reached him, the baton transferred perfectly.
Smooth, effortless practice pays off.
Jace accelerated immediately.
The crowd roared, athletes shouted, and coaches screamed instructions.
The final stretch blurred before my eyes.
Then he crossed the finish line.
First.
For one second, the stadium seemed frozen.
Then Blackwater erupted.
Athletes shouted. Teammates cheered. Coach actually smiled.
A terrifying sight. We had won.
Not the entire season, not nationals but enough to advance, enough to matter.
The team rushed toward the track.
Excitement exploded everywhere.
Mason nearly tackled someone.
Kiara screamed.
Several athletes jumped around like lunatics.
I laughed despite myself.
The victory felt incredible.
For the first time in months, everything felt light, simple, and good.
Then I turned and found Jace already looking at me.
His expression mirrored exactly what I was feeling. Pride, relief, and happiness.
The moment stretched longer than it should have.
Neither of us spoke nor looked away.
Then the announcer called Blackwater’s name over the speakers.
Reality returned immediately.
The moment broke.
But not before I saw it.
That unmistakable spark in his eyes.
The one that made my heart forget how to behave.
And standing in the middle of the celebration, surrounded by cheering teammates and roaring crowds, I realized something terrifying.
Elena wasn’t imagining things.
Neither was I.
Whatever was happening between Jace and me had become impossible to ignore.
- Writer
