Here to Win (Walker Boys Sequel)

Chap. 34

By the time I made it to the first hurdle, two things clicked.

One, this was it. My last chance to show the world why I, Mason Walker, deserve to be here.

Two, it was 7:30 PM, and the last time I’d eaten something was around 3.

I flew over the first hurdle without a problem. I didn’t bother to check my opponents. I knew, in my heart, that this is the break I’d been waiting for. This was the real Mason Walker.

I hadn’t felt this good running since before my shoulder injury. Before all of the hurdles seemed to plague my own life.

And I have to admit, it felt awesome. My heart was racing, the wind was rushing past my face, this was the rush I lived for.

As I went to jump over the second hurdle, I realized that my body was beginning to shut down. Why I hadn’t noticed this earlier? I’m not sure. Too anxious for the race I suppose.

The second hurdle was behind me, and I was sprinting for the third.

If I kept at this pace, I would keep my time under 13. Just barely, but I could do it.

I could see the finish line ahead. This was it. Everything I’d worked for came down to this.

I felt my back leg hit the fifth hurdle. I cursed under my breath. But I knew better than to try and pick up my pace and risk losing control. Instead I maintained speed, keeping my sights on the goal. The finish line.

The last five hurdles were easy. It was like second nature to me. I was born to do this.

As I landed after the tenth hurdle, I sprinted as hard and fast as I could.

“Run it all the way through.” Maurice’s words played through my mind as I was a step away from the finish line. Don’t let up now.

I flew through the finish line, slowing up a full second after I’d crossed.

I came to a jog and then a stop, the world around my spinning. But that didn’t matter. I had to know where I placed.

A part of me realized it would’ve been smart of me to look around as I sprinted towards the finish line to see what kind of place I was in.

But I hadn’t kept tabs on any other runner during that race. Which was good, but at the same time could cost me.

I looked over to see Caleb, hands on his knees. I wondered what place he’d come in. But there was no time to dwell.

The names were flashed across the screen.

But there were no names in the first and second slots.

I scanned the list for my name. Caleb Johnson was in the third place slot. But my name wasn’t on the list.

I looked over at Caleb again, who was reading the list was well. His face was grim, disappointment written across it.

I couldn’t help but feel for him. He was current National Champion, and he’d held the gold medal for this.

“Hey,” Coach Bill said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I couldn’t help but briefly wonder how long he’d been standing there. “You don’t look good.”

“I could use a Gatorade,” I said, staring past him at the standings. Why wasn’t my name on the list?

“Photo finish,” he said, answering my unasked question. He called over to Norman for a Gatorade. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Why? How do I look?”

“Like shit.”

“Yeah, well I’m an idiot,” I said, with a breathless laugh. “How long will this take?”