Forever for a Year by B. T. Gottfred

Todd Kishkin looked like he was just floating above the ground. When we turned down Fridell Road, he said, as if getting off an elevator, “I’ll see you guys in a bit.” And, pow, he went into another gear and out of sight.
    I wanted to ask Craig about him, but I didn’t have the energy to speak. Eventually Randy and Craig pulled away from Conchita and me, and I made sure to stay side by side with her. Couldn’t lose to a girl. But then, as we crossed the practice fields, just when I should’ve been able to outsprint her since my legs were twice as long, I had nothing left. She cruised ahead as if I were cemented in place. Everything hurt so much. I wanted to drop this pointless sport, get another gym period, forget about Carolina Fisher anyway. Who does this crap? Run five miles for no reason? This isn’t a sport! It’s torture!
    But I never walked. Never. Might as well have, but still. By the time I got to the steps of the gym where we started, two sophomores had caught me. Then a half dozen others. Didn’t care. Couldn’t care. I collapsed to my knees, hard into the gravel of the cement. If you had asked me in that moment if I would ever, ever run with the cross-country team again, I would have said, “Fuck no.”
    But Pasquini walked fast toward me, mumbling, “I thought so, I thought so.” Then he crouched down because I was on my hands and knees, dry heaving, and lifted up my chin and said, “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but when you do learn, you might be dangerous.” He was giving me a compliment in his way. It felt good. I wished it didn’t. But it did.
    I was planning on taking the late bus home, but when I finally had the energy to stand up, and after Pasquini had given the team a cornball pep speech, I saw my mom’s Infiniti SUV waiting in the parking lot. Unfortunately, it had not driven itself.

 
    9
    Carolina will stop boy obsessing tomorrow
    â€œI-have-to-call-Peggy-I’ll-be-right-back,” I said to my mom exactly one second after I saw the request from Trevor Santos. I went to the basement laundry room because my room was too close to the living room and no way did I want her to hear my conversation.
    â€œHe sent me a friend request!” I said, except I probably screamed it, as soon as Peggy answered. Why was I screaming this? This is not a big deal. Not. At. All.
    â€œWho?” she said.
    â€œThe new boy!” I screamed again. I was out of control. I didn’t know who the heck I was anymore. “His name is Trevor Santos.”
    â€œI can’t hear you, hold on.” In the background, I could hear Katherine yelling at their mom. They were always yelling at each other. Peggy found someplace quiet, then said, “So what’s his name?”
    â€œTrevor Santos.”
    â€œThat’s a sexy name,” she said.
    â€œI know,” I said, even though I hadn’t thought about it and didn’t even know what would make a name sexy. “What should I do?” my voice felt almost normal. I was starting to calm down instead of acting like some hysterical girl in love with a boy band.
    â€œAbout what?” said Peggy, who was having a “space-out night,” which sometimes happened. Especially when her sister and mom were yelling a lot.
    â€œAbout the friend request he sent, Peggy.”
    â€œAccept it, right?”
    â€œBut … Okay. Yeah. But…” Should I admit it? I had to. Even though it completely ruined my vow. Just ruined it. So I said, “What if I like him?”
    â€œThen for sure accept it, right?”
    â€œBut … maybe I should wait.”
    â€œMaybe you should,” Peggy said, not really listening. Or listening but not really thinking. Peggy was the greatest friend, except sometimes she just told you what you wanted to hear instead of real advice. So I changed the subject to talk about homework, and then about