Dean returned to the tarp to find Jessica and See-See playing cards with Robbie, Bry, and Jenny. Joelle and Ed stood nearby drinking coffee with some of the other parents, including Karen Coulter.
Joelle tried to get Megan to eat some peanuts and raisins that she’d brought along in a plastic baggie, but Megan refused. “Not right before the race!”
“You’re not running for another hour,” Joelle protested. “You need fuel.”
“See-See’s the same way,” Karen Coulter said, patting her daughter’s spiked hair. “She hardly eats breakfast.”
“Megan ate breakfast,” Joelle said definitively, like she didn’t want to have anything in common with See-See’s mother.
“So, Dean, does our team stand a chance of winning?” Ed asked.
“Hard to predict,” Dean replied. He had to get the girls away from this nonsense. He called for a warm-up, even though it was too early, and took the girls to a grassy clearing that he had noticed when they got off the bus. It was too small to be called a field, but large enough to give them a feeling of privacy and distance. Dean guided them through a series of stretches without saying much. Above, the clouds were moving across the sky, pushed by winds they could hear in the dry leaves just barely clinging to the trees. Time seemed to slow down. Dean thought of how strange it was that he was standing on this particular spot on the planet. It was a feeling akin to the malaise he’d encountered the night before in the mall. But this time there was no anger. Instead he felt a kind of disoriented wonder. Six months ago he never could have conceived of this moment.
“We should get back soon,” See-See said, pointing toward the starting line, where other teams had begun to gather in warm-up gear.
“You lead the way,” Dean said. He’d meant to give them some pointers for the race before they left, but it didn’t seem as necessary.
The starting line stretched out across a puddled, bowl-shaped field. Dean told the girls to be careful of the mud, a warning they received with scorn.
“I’m serious,” Dean said. “It’s October. One month until the big dance. You can’t afford to twist your ankle now. So play it safe!”
See-See saluted him and then led the girls away to form a huddle.
The boys’ team was heading off for their warm-up. Philips gave Dean a wave and promised to cheer the girls on at the end of the race. As he ran off, Dean realized he’d been counting on him to take the second-mile splits. He quickly recruited Karen for the job, handing her a clipboard and draping a stopwatch over her neck.
“Sorry you’ll miss the start,” he said.
“No problem.” She pulled her dirty-blond hair into a ponytail. “I’m glad I wore sneakers!”
With Joelle, Bryan, and Robbie in tow, Dean headed to the first mile marker. A small group of coaches were waiting there. Dean positioned himself just beyond the marker so that he could run alongside the girls if he felt like it. Before he even had time to organize himself, Bryan started jumping up and down and calling Megan’s name. Dean looked up to see her small figure clad in bright blue, an echo of the sky above.
“Is that really her?” Joelle said.
“Daddy! She’s in first!” Bryan was still jumping.
Dean’s stopwatch said 5:45. Way, way too fast a start. She was excited because her parents were here, maybe.
“You’re too fast!” Dean yelled. “You need to stick with See-See and slow down in the woods. It’s okay if you lose first. This isn’t the big dance. You need to run smart, run smart! Don’t trip in those woods!”
She nodded, giving him a quick darting glance. She seemed rattled, happy, high, a little out of control. Her leg turnover was so quick that Dean felt like he could see the adrenaline animating her muscles.
The other girls passed by in order with their partners: See-See and Aileen, Lori and Missy, and finally, Jessica. The field of spectators fell silent as the runners entered the woods.
“I can’t believe she was first,” Joelle said. She seemed shaken. “I knew she was fast, but I didn’t realize. .”
“Come on, we have to get to the third mile,” Dean said. He wanted to jog but settled for a brisk walk. Almost as soon as they made it to the marker, Megan popped out of the woods, still holding first. The clock ticked past nineteen. She was going to break her personal record and win the race. This was only the second race she had ever run. Dean wondered if Joelle and Ed understood how talented their daughter was. He wondered if he understood. She needed a real coach, someone who actually knew about running.
“Here.” He thrust the clipboard and stopwatch toward Robbie. “Finish taking the splits.”
“Thanks for asking,” Robbie muttered.
Dean ran diagonally across the field toward the finishing chute, where other parents and coaches were already waiting at the line. They began to cheer as Megan came into view. Dean heard someone behind him yelling and turned to see Karen Coulter looking flushed, exhilarated, and about ten years younger. “Holy shit! Is that little Megan in the lead?”
He just barely saw her cross the line. The next runner was at least ten yards behind. Megan slowed to a jog this time, not stopping abruptly like she’d done before. She was red-faced, clearly exhausted, but she waved when she saw Dean.
“What was my time?”
“Nineteen thirty-two.”
She frowned. “I wanted to break nineteen.”
“You will,” Dean promised.
Ed and Jenny had seen Megan win and were making their way over to her with dumbfounded glee. Dean ducked out of the scene and returned to the line where Aileen and See-See — they had stuck together until the end — were racing to the finish. Aileen edged See-See out by one stride. Dean thought there was a chance for a halfway decent team score, but then a big group of runners — none of them blue — came across the line and he knew a win was mathematically impossible.
Missy, Lori, and Jessica were so far back that they had no clue of Megan’s win. Telling them was like giving them a present. They ran over to Megan, who was now being interviewed by a reporter. The reporter wanted to talk to Dean but he said not until he’d taken the girls for their cooldown jog. Then he led the girls away, back to the clearing where they’d stretched before the race.
“I JUST DON’T want to get into a pattern of drinking all the time,” Raquel said. “It’s so cliché. And I’m so sick of going to dumb jock parties on Saturday. It’s their one night to have fun and they all binge.”
They were sitting together in the cafeteria, Stephanie with her apron on because she was taking a break from the dish room. Gabe had told her to go get a cup of coffee because she seemed so tired. Stephanie couldn’t understand how Raquel could look glamorous after so many late nights in a row. It was as if all the things that made other people seem undone — messy hair, a drawn face, the residue of last night’s makeup — instead conspired to make Raquel utterly chic.