Page 52 of Fragments of the Lost
“We should do it,” Max had said to Caleb while I dug through my bag for more sunscreen.
Caleb made a face, but then he saw mine, so hopeful, leaning toward him.Pleasepleaseplease,I mouthed. I was one step away from asking Julian, and I really didn’t want to ask Julian.
“Fine,” he said. “Looking forward to kicking your asses tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes. “Wear old shoes,” I’d told them.
“I thought people ran barefoot on the beach,” Max said.
“You don’t want to do that for five miles.”
Max pursed his lips. “I’m regretting this decision already.”
—
I didn’t know precisely how fast Caleb was until that day. I’d seen him on the lacrosse field, and I’d seen him doing line sprints during practice, but I had no idea whether he’d be able to pace himself for a distance run in sand.
We sat on the worn wooden steps leading down onto the beach while Max retied his shoes. “So,” I said, squinting from the glare of the sun on the ocean, “we head that way until the pink hotel.” The pink hotel was as good a landmark as it got on the beach. I’d mapped it out beforehand. “Then we turn around and come back.”
Caleb nodded. Max leaned over the splintered railing, peering down the beach.
Caleb grinned. “Loser sings the national anthem on the corner of the street.”
“Oh my God,” I mumbled, “whatis itwith you two and the national anthem?” There was always some variation of that, in a bet. Singing it in the middle of class (Caleb), or atthe sports banquet dinner (Max, before he got shut down by the athletic director), or on the train into the city (Caleb, but then the whole train got into it, and we all sang, so really that one didn’t count).
Caleb shrugged. “Ready?” he asked.
I started jogging, and Caleb took off at a near-sprint, his sneakers kicking up the sand in front of me.
“Dammit,” Max said, and he kicked into another gear, desperately trying to keep up. Max played shortstop, and I knew he could sprint. But they were both going to burn themselves out in the first hundred meters, I decided. I was going to beat them both within the first mile.
Except I didn’t.
I caught up with Max halfway to the pink hotel, but Caleb kept getting farther and farther ahead. He looped back, passing us, never letting up speed. “Jessa,” he called as he blew by, “don’t you dare let him beat you or you’ll be belting ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ in the parking lot!”
“What?” I shouted back. I had assumed the bet was only between the two of them. I dug in deeper and pulled away from Max, but in the last section, he pulled even. He was breathing heavily, nearly spent, but his strides were twice as long as mine and he was going to win, I could feel it.
I closed my eyes, imagined this was a race and not practice, that the person beside me was any other person and the ground below was solid and I was stronger than them, and had practiced harder, and longer, and I had more left in the tank. I felt my steps pull even with his again, and in the last few meters before the spot Caleb sat on the steps, I sprinted with everything I had, and I beat him.
I collapsed onto the sand in front of Caleb, who was smiling. It seemed he was just barely out of breath.
Max groaned, crossed one leg in front of the other, and fell onto the sand. “I let you win,” he said, his chest heaving as he lay on his back beside us.
“There isno wayyou let me win.” I kicked sand onto his shins.
Max rolled onto his knees, kicked off his shoes, peeled off his shirt. “I’m just gonna…” He trailed off, making his way to the edge of the water. He walked in up to his knees, his thighs, then turned around so he was facing us and let a wave hit him in the back. He stumbled, fell, let the wave push him up onto shore.
“God, Max, you’re like a beached whale,” I called.
I turned to see Caleb staring at the side of my face. “Going in?” he asked, switching his expression to a coy grin.
I tipped my head at Max’s shoes in the sand. “Someone has to guard the sneakers,” I said.
He laughed. “You’re so full of crap.” Then he picked me up over his shoulder and started running for the shoreline.
“No, no, no, no!” I yelled. “Wait.” I pounded his back. “At least let me take off my shoes. They’re expensive.”
He placed me on the sand, and I stepped back as I bent over to peel them off.
