January [BoyxBoy]

08

The coach wasn't there sitting at the bench to record the time today.

He was free to run as slow as he wanted. Or if he wanted to run at all.

So 6.50 saw him standing on the spot that he had begun calling his, his eyes set on the wooden window on the third floor of the building across the road.

Ten minutes went painfully slow.

But the wait was worth it as the window opened to reveal a frowning boy with messy bed hair, whose face lit up in a bright smile when his eyes found the young athlete at the spot that he had begun calling his.