Running for love

Chapter One

As I lock the door behind me and walk into the main street, I know what's coming.

It's only been a couple of days in October, but already there are pumpkins and scary decorations in every neighbour's front yard. Leafs scatter the ground, leaving the trees naked. There's a chill breeze in the air, making my curly hair even more messy than it already is. I shove my hands into my pockets and look up to a bright sky dotted with clouds. Birds are flying away to a warmer country, there's a queue going out the corner coffee shop and, already, I see Saint-Georges school's large wooden doors from afar. Everything is like the usual, I mentally note.

There's only one thing missing, and he's coming out of the next street on the right.

A simple sweatshirt, even simpler jeans, a low bun of black hair: a boy I could recognise everywhere. It's been more than ten years, but I still have a vivid memory of him as a little boy. We weren't friends and we aren't now, either, but I know who he is, while the other boy doesn't even know I breathe the same air he does.

He's the kid I always saw through the glass of the pool, once I got into the track team. He's the teenager I walk past in Saint-Georges' corridors, or in the park while he feeds pigeon with an old woman. He's the young man now walking ahead of me, acting like we've never had any encounter at all. Like we don't cross each other path all day, every day.

It's not about pride. It's about being kind to others, I ponder as I come across the old woman club, running with weights in each hand and too bright clothes of too many colours to count like they do every Monday around this hour. I smile, and they smile back, like always. Kindness. That's all I excepted from him. But not just from him, in particular; that's all I expect from people, from strangers, from the world. That's all I used to except, at least. But I don't know if I still believe all of that.

Each step up the stairs leading into Saint-Georges' school, I lose sight of him. Another stranger in the crowded corridors. I never quite understood how this hallway is always so full of people.

Our school is abusively big, even though old fashioned with oak wood everywhere and teachers as hard as the said wood. But weirdly, in the mornings, everyone seems to gather in here, somehow.

"Zeke!"

Willow hugs me quickly as I turn around, letting me only mumble a small greeting before speaking again.

"Are you going to the party on Friday?" she asks eagerly.

We start walking to first period. "Don't know yet. Do you?"

"Of course I do," I should've known. "It's a huge party, everyone's coming. I can't miss it, and you neither."

We walk into the classroom and sit at the far back of it. I sit behind Willow and take all the time I need -and a bit more- to set my supplies on the desk, hoping she'll forget about that damn party.

However long I take, it isn't what will stop her. Willow swings her chair around, her long blond hair spiralling in her swift movement, clapping her hands together and putting them under her chin.

"Come on, Zeke," she starts again. "Ari's house, ten pm. It'll be fun!" She makes her puppy eyes, I can't refuse.

"I'm only going to watch over your drunk ass, then," I sigh. This woman exasperates me.

She laughs. "Seriously, it'll be a good chance for you to meet new people," Willow winks at me while I roll my eyes. "I mean, I know I'm the bestest of best friends, but still."

"In case you didn't notice, I have plenty of friends," I retort, faking a deep offend.

She taps her finger to her temp, trying to remember. "Yes, the team and... People who want to get into your pants because you're the next gold Olympic champion."