The Blood Catalyst

Chapter 12

"Hey, how's he?" Zara asked, approaching Yvette as she stepped out from the door.

With Ethan's reaction, she wanted to be angry and say "f**k him", yet she found herself going in the direction of the nurse's office.

"He's okay?" Yvette said with a shrug, giving Zara a look of irritation.

Zara couldn't care less.

"What did you say to him by the way?' she asked her. "That made him drop the flask?"

"How's that any of your business?"

"I just..."

"Asked him if we could make some babies," she scoffed. "What's it to you?"

"You're sure that's what you said?"

Yvette gave a deadpan look and stomped away.

Zara placed her fingers on the door tentatively, pushing it open. Ethan was there, sitting at the edge of the bed and staring at his hands.

"Hi," she called out softly, closing the door behind her gently. "You okay?"

"I don't want to see your Zara, please leave."

Her mouth opened slightly, but she closed it again. There was no point, if he didn’t want to see her, then she wasn’t going to stand there like an i***t.

She turned around and stepped out.

Noah was leaning against the wall, he straightened when he saw her.

"What happened? You okay?"

She jumped back in surprise, not expecting to see him there.

"Yeah," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m fine."

"Trouble in paradise?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Zara gave him a mean glare. "What paradise?" She asked, raising her brows at him.

"Uh, I don't know. There's tension between the two of you?"

Zara exhaled, running her hand through her hair. "I think he's mad at me."

They started walking down the hallway together.

"Why?" Noah asked. "And let me guess, you don't like that he is."

"I really don't know. Maybe because of what I know, and am I supposed to like it if he's mad at me?"

"So you really do have a crush on him."

"I do not!" She growled at him.

"Then why do you care?"

"I have cross-country training today," she said, changing the topic swiftly. "You coming with the bus or something?"

"Nah," Noah said. "I have basketball practice, by the time I’m done, you’ll probably be done too, and your dad will be done coaching, so we can all go home together."

She nodded. "Yeah, cool."

"And I know you only brought that up to change the topic, but imma leave you for now."

She rolled her eyes and left him at the hallway and walked down to the track field, her heart felt tight and heavy, and she didn’t even know why, she was trying to understand what she had done wrong, Ethan looked angry, he looked at her like she had betrayed him or something, and she wanted to know why.

She kept thinking about the moment he looked her way, just after the flask broke, but she hadn’t said anything, she hadn’t told anyone, she hadn’t even whispered it to herself.

And Yvette... Yvette wasn’t even close to her, they didn’t talk, they never even liked each other, so how would Yvette know anything? And if she really only said something stupid and flirty like that, then why did Ethan look like she said more? Why did he look at Zara like it was her fault?

She shook her head and walked faster.

When she reached the track area, her father was standing by the bench, checking the timing device, he looked up the moment she stepped onto the field.

"Zara. I thought you had field training today. Don’t you have cross-country coaching now?"

She almost rolled her eyes, she didn’t, but she definitely wanted to.

Of course, he remembered the training. He always remembered when it was time to talk about her races like he was her manager but somehow managed to forget he was her dad too.

"I do, dad. I just wanted to let you know that Ethan’s not going to be coming to practice today."

"And what makes you think that? Since when did you become his spokesperson?"

"During chemistry practical today, he got acid spilled on his hand," she said, folding her arms. "So I’m not sure he’s going to make it."

Her father’s brows pulled together. "Oh my God. Is he alright? I hope it was a diluted acid, that’s the requirement, that experiment isn’t supposed to be done with concentrated solutions."

"It was," she said. "But it still stings, I know because acid splashed on me before and it burned like crazy."

"Hmm. I hope he’s okay. He has a race in three days."

"But he just came back from nationals, why is he running another race so soon?"

"It’s the season," he said, not looking up.

She nodded, not that it answered anything, but she was already used to the weird excuses that didn’t explain anything.

He looked at her again.

"Don’t you have training? You better not skip today, Zara."

She gave a dry smile. "Wow, thanks for the concern, dad."

"You weren't the one who got acid spilled on you, except if somehow Ethan being hurt is affecting you. And that can't happening if there's nothing going on between the two of you."

She ignored him and turned to leave, adjusting her laces as she walked across the grass, her bag hung loosely from one arm, but then she stopped.

Ethan was walking up to the track, his hand wrapped in a white bandage, his bag slung over one shoulder, and he didn’t look at her, not even once, even when their eyes met, he rolled his eyes and looked away quickly like even the sight of her annoyed him.

He walked straight to her father.

"Coach," he said. "I'm ready."

Her father looked confused. "You had an injury today."

"If I don't train, how am I supposed to keep up my pace, how do I keep winning?"

He said it loudly enough for her to hear.

Zara scoffed quietly and walked off, her shoes pressing into the ground harder than before, her chest ached and her hand curled into a fist around her phone, she didn’t like the way he said it, she didn’t like the way he looked at her like she didn’t matter, and she didn’t like the way it made her feel like maybe she actually didn’t.

But she wasn’t going to say anything, she wasn’t going to let him see that it bothered her, she was just going to run, maybe the running would make the feeling go away.

When Zara reached the cross-country field, her coach was already pacing and checking her timer, arms crossed tightly against her chest like she had been waiting to explode the moment someone stepped out of line.

"Zara. You're late."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Zara said, dropping her bag by the bench and pulling her hoodie off. "My friend kinda had an... accident in the lab."

"Your friend. Not you. So you should be here early. I don’t care what happened to someone else," the coach snapped. "You're a state champion, but you’re already slacking like someone who doesn’t know what she wants. I am not going to waste my time on an athlete who isn’t serious about her races."

Zara tied her laces without looking up. "Yeah. Okay. Whatever."

It didn’t matter anymore. Everyone always had something to say wbout her effort, her timing, her performance. It never stopped.

The coach clapped once. "Drills first. Five minutes. Then we do three miles. I want your best pace."

Zara joined the rest of her team, stretching out her legs and arms. She could hear a few girls whispering near the back, but she didn’t care. She bent, straightened, shook her arms, did everything on autopilot. Her head was somewhere else.

"Alright, line up. Three miles. I want your best," the coach shouted.

They took off.

Zara ran, focusing on her breath, keeping her feet steady, counting her steps. The sun was still high in the sky, and the air was dry and hot. She could feel the sweat building behind her neck, and her arms were already sticky.

She passed two girls quickly, then kept a steady pace with Reina, not wanting to overthink anything, not wanting to fall too far behind, just focused on keeping her legs moving.

But as she neared the last stretch, her breath caught weirdly in her throat. She blinked, thinking it would pass, but then a strange shock rushed through her chest, like someone had slammed her from the inside.

She stopped.

Her hands flew to her chest, and she bent forward slightly, trying to breathe through it, her eyes blurry and her head light, but her feet stayed frozen in place. Reina passed her, sprinting right past the finish line.

"Reina! Great pace! That’s what I’m talking about!" the coach shouted.

Then she turned.

"Zara, what is this? You stopped before the finish line? Look at Reina giving everything, and you're slacking off again!"

Zara didn’t answer. She was still gripping her chest, trying to breathe through it. The pain wasn’t as strong anymore, but it was still there.

"You want to lose your spot? Keep this up. I swear, I don’t care what title you hold, if you keep slowing down and acting like you’re too special to train, you won’t make it to the next race."

That was it.

Zara stood up slowly and turned around.

"I wasn’t slacking," she said. "I was in pain. But you wouldn’t care about that, would you? You only care about who's winning."

"Excuses," the coach muttered. "If you’re hurt, say it. Don’t just stop like you're throwing a tantrum."

Zara stared at her, jaw clenched, then shook her head and turned around, walking off the track without another word.

She could hear her teammates muttering behind her.

"Why is she such a b***h?"

"God, she always thinks she can do whatever she wants."

"So dramatic. It’s just a run."

Zara walked faster, not looking back.

She wasn’t going to wait for her dad. She didn’t care if he was done coaching Ethan or not. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to hear anyone call her dramatic or tell her she wasn't giving her best. She didn’t want to be looked at like she was just acting out.

She just wanted to get away from everyone and everything. And for once, she wasn’t going to explain herself.

About an hour later, she got home, her bag slung lazily over one shoulder, and her legs aching like she had been dragging herself for miles. She walked in, just went straight up the stairs to her room, pushing the door open with one arm.

The first thing she saw was the plate of pasta still sitting on her reading table.

"Oh, ew," she muttered, scrunching her nose as the smell hit her.

She picked it up carefully, holding it far away from her face, the pasta looked mushy and kind of grey at the edges, and it smelled like something sour had crawled into it and died.

She carried it down to the kitchen and dumped it straight into the trash.

Then she turned on the tap and started washing the rest of the dishes that were already piled in the sink.

She didn’t even know why she was doing it, maybe it was the smell or maybe she just needed to do something with her hands.

The water ran over her fingers and the sponge slipped a few times, but she kept going, scrubbing harder.

"Zara, what the hell is wrong with you?" her dad said from behind her.

She froze.

Great, can't even have the house to myself this once.

She turned to him slowly. "What?"

"Your coach called me. Told me you ran off during training."

"We already ran three miles. What more does she want? We did the drills, we ran the miles. I ran my three miles. And I left."

He looked frustrated and moved closer. "Why did you leave without saying anything? We were supposed to go home together. Noah said he searched the whole school looking for you. He couldn’t even find you."

"I didn’t ask him to. And I didn’t want to wait around."

He opened his mouth to say something else.

"Just leave me alone," she said quickly.

She dropped the sponge in the sink, turned off the tap, wiped her hands against her shorts and stormed past him, heading up the stairs again, two steps at a time.

She pushed her door open and dropped onto the bed, sinking into it like she could disappear inside the sheets.

She grabbed her pillow and hugged it to her chest.

Then the pain hit her again.