Lane Six
1134 Words
Monday mornings at Blackwater should have been illegal.
The moment I stepped onto campus, I knew the fight video had not died.
If anything, it had evolved.
Students glanced up from their phones as I walked past.
Whispers followed me through the hallways.
Some were subtle, but most were not.
“That’s her.”
“Jace literally punched Tyler because of her.”
“Poor Elena.”
I tightened my grip on my backpack and kept walking.
Rule number one of surviving Blackwater:
Never let them see you care.
Unfortunately, my mood was already ruined before the first period even started.
By lunchtime, things got worse.
I was grabbing a bottle of water from the cafeteria when somebody bumped hard into me.
Water splashed across my shirt.
“Oh.”
The girl didn’t sound sorry at all.
I looked up. Sabrina Vale.
Elena’s best friend. Wonderful.
“Watch where you’re going,” she said sweetly.
“You walked into me.”
She smiled.
“Did I?”
A few nearby students watched immediately. They were always waiting.
I swallowed my irritation.
“Have a nice day, Sabrina.”
Her smile faltered slightly.
Good. Then she leaned closer.
“Just because Jace defended you doesn’t mean you’ve won.”
My jaw tightened.
“Won what?”
“You know exactly what.”
Actually, I didn’t because there was nothing to win.
Jace wasn’t a prize and he definitely wasn’t available.
The problem was that nobody seemed to understand that, least of all me.
The rest of the school day dragged painfully.
Classes blurred together. Teachers talked, students whispered.
My patience slowly died.
By the time practice arrived, I was exhausted.
Coach Daniels apparently felt the same.
Because he looked one inconvenience away from committing a crime.
“Nationals are getting closer,” he announced as the team gathered on the track.
“So if you’re planning to create more drama, do it after we win.”
Nobody spoke. That was smart.
Coach pointed toward the lanes.
“Relay trials.”
That got everyone’s attention mine included.
Relay trials determined race positions.
Who ran first, who ran anchor, and who represented Blackwater at regionals.
It's very important.
“Today,” Coach continued, “we’re testing pair compatibility.”
A collective groan rose from the team. Coach ignored it completely.
Then he looked down at his clipboard.
“Blake and Donovan.”
The entire team immediately started laughing.
I wanted to leave.
Jace looked equally unimpressed.
“Coach—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Mason nearly fell over laughing.
Kiara wasn’t much better.
They are both traitors.
Thirty minutes later, Jace and I stood in lane six preparing for another relay run.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the track.
Wind moved lightly through the stadium.
Everything felt strangely still.
“Ready?”
I glanced toward Jace.
“No.”
“Consistent answer.”
“Consistent question.”
His mouth twitched slightly.
Lately, those almost-smiles affected me way more than they should.
Coach raised his whistle.
“Positions!”
The stadium fell quiet, and athletes moved into place.
The relay baton felt cool against my palm.
My pulse accelerated not from nerves but from competition.
Running had always done this to me, made everything else disappear.
The whispers, the rumors, the fear.
For a few precious seconds, there was only speed.
Coach’s whistle shrieked.
I ran. The world blurred instantly, and the track flew beneath my feet.
Breath. Stride. Movement. Everything else vanished.
By the time I reached the exchange zone, Jace was already moving so fast.
The baton transferred smoothly between us. It was perfect, effortless, and natural.
I watched him sprint ahead.
And suddenly understood why colleges wanted him so badly.
He wasn’t just talented, he was exceptional.
The trial ended with Coach shouting times across the field.
The team gathered around waiting. Coach studied his clipboard then looked up.
For one second, he seemed annoyed which was never a good sign.
“You two are our fastest pairing.”
“What?”
The word escaped me automatically.
Coach looked even more annoyed.
“Is hearing optional now?”
Mason laughed so hard he almost choked.
Jace dragged a hand across his face.
“Seriously?”
Coach pointed at both of us.
“You shave nearly two seconds off the relay average.”
The team reacted immediately. Some were surprised, some impressed while some were unhappy.
Especially Tyler.
The sprinter’s expression darkened instantly.
Coach continued.
“So unless one of you develops common sense overnight, you’re staying together.”
The team dispersed afterward.
Most athletes headed toward the locker rooms.
I stayed behind not because I wanted to, but because I needed a minute.
The track looked different when it was empty. Quieter and less chaotic.
The painted white lines stretched endlessly beneath the fading sunlight.
My gaze drifted toward lane six.
The lane where Coach constantly paired me with Jace.
The lane where we argued, ran, and competed.
Nearly fell apart and somehow kept ending up beside each other.
“Thinking again?”
I didn’t turn around.
“Apparently that’s illegal now.”
Footsteps approached then stopped beside me.
Jace. Of course.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
The silence wasn’t awkward anymore and that realization scared me.
“You were good today,” he said eventually.
I blinked.
“Was that a compliment?”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“Too late.”
A small laugh escaped him.
My stomach immediately forgot how to function.
“Coach is right,” Jace admitted quietly.
“About what?”
“Our times.”
I looked toward the track again.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
Then—
“We work well together.”
The words sounded simple but they weren’t because lately, nothing between us was simple.
I swallowed once.
“Only on the track.”
The second the sentence left my mouth, I regretted it.
Because something shifted in his expression. Before either of us could say anything else, a voice echoed from the parking lot.
“Jace!”
Elena. Again.
The moment was shattered instantly. His shoulders tensed, mine did too.
Funny how that kept happening Jace looked toward the parking lot then back at me.
For one brief second, neither of us moved then reality won like always.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
He started walking away.
Halfway across the track, he glanced back once.
Just once but it was enough, enough to make my heartbeat stumble.
Enough to make me stand there long after he disappeared.
Enough to make me realize something I really didn’t want to admit.
Lane six was becoming my favorite lane.
And it had absolutely nothing to do with running.
- Writer
