Track practice had been exhausting. Rodriguez and Nelson had made the team run drills together with the intention of pushing us harder and faster than we were used to. Up and down the track we went, sprinting, stopping, and sprinting again on repeat. Strangely, I had enjoyed the constant pushing and couldn't remember the last time I had engaged so wholeheartedly in practice.
Once finished, all of us roamed around the track, arms above our heads and panting; I was filled with pride. Even without being timed, I knew I was running faster than I had in a long time, and it felt good.
Practice let out slightly earlier than normal due to its intensity. With a quick glance at my watch, I realized I could catch the next bus if I hurried, otherwise it would be another hour before I could head home.
Sweaty, but not bothering to care for fear of missing the bus, I hustled towards the parking lot to the bus stop. On route, I spotted Ben, who was placed on the sidewalk a ways from my destination, stretching his taught legs and arms. He was preparing to run home, and, despite my achy legs and lungs, I strode over to him.
"Hi."
"Oh – hey, Elliot. Rough practice."
"Yet, you're still about to make the two-mile run home."
Ben fiddled with his already sweaty shirt, his fingers clumsily pulling the fabric so air fluffed beneath, and said, "It's only two miles."
These words had a profound effect on me. He was right, it was only two miles. With exhaustion setting in, two miles seemed like the distance around the earth, and I could only imagine it felt the same to Ben. I thought back to the beginning of the season, when one lap had nearly finished him off. But it hadn't. He kept going, determined to reach his one mile, and had managed to do so many times over.
Here Ben stood, probably as wiped out from the hour of drills as I was, but still dedicated to running home. It wasn't fair of me to write the two-mile run off on Ben as more difficult for him than me. If anyone had shown me the power in picking yourself up and trying again, it was Ben, who showed up for practice, put the work in - even more than was expected - and succeeded.
So, I found myself in agreement. It was only two miles. And what was two miles to someone who could put their mind to anything and accomplish it?
A mighty wave of inspiration coursed through me, and through the fatigue, I felt like I could do anything in that moment.
"You ready?" I asked, pushing stray, sweaty strands off my face.
Ben's eyes were strong, sharp, and determined as they danced around my features.
"Whenever you are."
And the two of us took off towards the same route as last time, veering down the forested road. It was the perfect day for a run; pearly white clouds hung in the sky, blocking most of the sun's heat, but it was still warm enough so when a gust of wind blew, it felt refreshing. The evergreens remained still and stately around us as the wind rustled through their branches and needles every so often.
I felt powerful, like I could run forever. The idea of running around the world didn't even sound im. It sounded exciting. My legs didn't ache and my lungs were pumping new life through my body. This was how running was supposed to feel; it was how it used to feel, like I could accomplish whatever lay ahead. I had missed this feeling.
Sooner than expected, we had emerged onto the busy street, which lead us towards Ben's neighborhood. I spotted his pretty blue house instantly, it's white shingles and open front porch like a beacon. In my mind, I had reached the other side of the world.
Ben came to a stop first. When my feet eventually halted, I dipped my body down and placed my hands on top of my knees. The tiredness had returned, but I felt alive.
"I love that road – with all the trees." Bursts of breath broke my sentence apart.
Ben walked nearer to me, and said though ragged breaths, "It's the only reason I run that way, otherwise, I'd just cut through town. It's the same distance." Something then caught his eye on the porch. "Oh – what are they doing out here?"
Erin and the woman who I presumed to be Ben's mother entered my vision. Each of them held a watering can, and, based on the colorful display of plants and flowers scattered on the porch, I gathered they were in the middle of watering them.
Ben shot me a glance but didn't ask the question I thought he would. Instead, he let me dictate what to do next. If I had been feeling any other away, I would have backed off. Meeting new people wasn't easy for me. But because I felt like a new person today, I made the first move and began walking down the sidewalk to meet his mother.
"Hey, Elliot," Erin said first, offering me one of the warmest smiles I had seen in a while. Even with their differences, I saw so much of Ben in her.
"Hey, Erin."
Ben's mother slid her eyes from Ben to me. She, too, offered me the same warm smile that shone on Erin and said, "Hi. I'm Heidi – Ben's mom." Her eyes were a mirror of Ben's: almond-shaped and golden. Warm, blonde hair surrounded her narrow, but gentle, face.
"Nice to meet you," I said, having approached the stairs to their porch. "Elliot."
Heidi then darted her eyes back towards Ben's, but only for a split second. I would have missed it had I not been watching.
"You too, honey. Come on in, why don't you? Looks like you're both wiped out." Heidi then motioned for us to follow her through the porch and into the house, the door already cracked open.
"Hi, Mom," I heard Ben say as he walked past.
Their house was a combination of eclectic and cozy: mismatched lounge chairs and a dark blue sofa were fitted inside the living room, each looking well worn; many old pictures and antique decorations graced the mantle over the brick fireplace, and a large wooden clock was hung on the wall. The hardwood floors creaked beneath me, and I smelled the faint scent of something old but well-kept.
"Are you thirsty, Elliot?" Heidi said. "I can get you both some ice water."
"That sounds great," I said, wondering when the discomfort I usually felt in new situations would set in. So far, I felt only comfortable.
Out of nowhere, a golden dog shot out of the room from my direct left, nearly clobbering me to the floor. He slammed against my legs, barked wildly, and began licking at my hands.
"Rocket, no!" Heidi called, but both Ben and Erin were laughing hysterically.
I stopped down, and Rocket slammed his body into mine and began licking my face. I patted him behind his ears and was granted a few kisses in return.
"I'm so sorry," Heidi began, "he's very excitable. He'll calm down in a little while – but you already know all this – he was at the pet store."
It didn't evade me that Heidi knew I was the one who introduced Ben to Rocket.
"He's such a sweet dog – good natured – just bounces off the damn walls when someone new comes into the house."
"He was always like that," I said, scratching Rocket on his chest as he began to simmer down, tongue hanging from his mouth.
"I'll grab the water, Mom," said Ben, entering through an opening towards the kitchen.
"Thanks, honey." Heidi turned to me. "How about we go to the backyard? There's still some light, and it's nice out."
It sounded lovely. We followed Ben into the kitchen, and Heidi opened a paned door, Rocket bounding at her side, and we stepped outside. I was met with most spectacular backyard. It was fenced in with a beautiful rock pond at the center, thickets of plants and flowers surrounding the perimeter, and multiple decorations, birdhouses, statues, and painted rocks mixed in. A circular metal table and four chairs were set up on a brick patio, and the three of us took a seat.
"It's so pretty out here," I said.
"It's Mom's sanctuary," Erin said, just as Ben emerged from the side door carrying a large pitcher of ice water and four stacked glasses. Rocket barked in the distance and then continued sniffing the yard.
"It's my safe space," Heidi said in agreement. "Whenever life feels like too much, I just come out here and regroup."
Understanding this feeling, I said, "I know what you mean."
"Do you?" Heidi said quickly.
Ben had just placed a full glass of sparkling water, condensation already wetting the outside, in front of me.
"Thanks," I said, and thought for a moment. "And yeah – there's this place on campus – I actually don't think anyone knows about it – anyway, it's a little forested area with a tiny rickety bench. I sometimes go there when life's... when I get overwhelmed."
Heidi watched me the entire time I spoke. Her eyes were soft, although inquisitive, and her expression insinuated she was really considering my confession.
"Sounds lovely," she said finally. "Places like that are hard to come by. Keep hold of it. Or, better yet, turn your backyard into something you can retreat to."
I didn't tell her, but I took this advice to heart. It was appealing. Once I was on my own and had a house, I could transform the space into my personal sanctuary.
Taking a sip of water, the liquid cooling the back of my throat, I looked to Ben, who was watching me fixedly. The pull towards him I had been feeling in recent weeks was back, and I had to fiddle with my hair and damp clothes to control it spreading.
"So, how was track practice?" Heidi asked, breaking the contemplative silence.
"Good – hard," said Ben. "We ran drills."
"It was definitely hard," I agreed.
"What event do you run, Elliot?"
"The five-thousand meter," I answered.
"Is that the equivalent to a 5K?" inquired Heidi.
"Uh – yeah – it is. I've been running it for a long time."
From beside me, Erin groaned. "I don't know how you do it – running – it sounds miserable."
Ben leaned forward onto the table and placed a hand around his glass of water. "You cheer. That sounds miserable."
Erin's face pinched into a scowl.
"I actually ran track in high school. I wasn't any good, of course." Heidi smiled. "How long have you been running?"
"Oh – um – since high school, I guess. I'm not really any good either."
Ben, who had found a ballcap since being home, tugged at the bill. "She's lying. She set a record for her division back in high school."
I blinked. "What – how – who told you that?"
"Rodriguez," Ben said simply. "He likes to talk about you."
I rolled my eyes at the thought of Rodriguez gushing about my glory days. "Well – fine – but, I'm not good anymore."
Heidi was, once again, watching me with the same keen, warm expression.
"We all go through a series of trials – all of us – each unique to ourselves." At this, Erin rolled her eyes dramatically and Ben smirked. I, however, felt the words move through me, seeping in.
"Just look at Ben. He's been working on running for years and was able to join a track team this year." Heidi acted as though this was common knowledge.
A pink flush painted its way up Ben's neck. He didn't make eye contact with me, and instead, found something interesting to stare at on the ground. I hadn't known that he had been running before he joined track.
"How long have you been running?" My voice was barely louder than a whisper.
Ben gulped. "A couple years – not long. It was" – Ben looked away – "hard in the beginning."
Heidi lifted an eyebrow. "Hard being the operative word." Before I could ask any further questions, Heidi continued, "Do you do any other sports?"
A second passed before I realized she was addressing me. "No – just choir. I joined a local group last year." My eyes were still on Ben.
"Really?" she said, her eyebrows arching higher. "That sounds like fun. Does your group put on concerts?"
"Yeah, we actually have one coming up – a spring concert that's going to be at the concert hall on campus. We're charging for tickets and everything."
"Oh – when is it? Can I have the date?" Heidi asked.
"Um – yeah – it's April 10th," I stated.
"Where can I buy tickets?"
My face must have been full of surprise, because Heidi lent me a sincere smile, indicating she was simultaneously tickled and expectant.
"At the student section on the campus – in the main building. They're five dollars for adults and three for students."
"Do I count as a student?" interjected Erin. "I want to go!"
"Yeah," I said, trying to decipher the sudden eagerness they had to attend my concert. It was like I had stepped inside the house of long-lost family members who wanted to make up for lost time. What was stranger, I didn't seem to mind. "It's not going to be anything special."
Heidi grinned. "Don't downplay. We want to go. I'll have Ben get us tickets this week."
I chanced a look towards Ben; he was sitting quite still, the small movements that normally flitted over him carried on as usual, the same neutral expression rested upon his face. Although, something about him was different. I credited this to the fading light. The sun had fully ducked behind the horizon, and the windows from neighboring houses began to ignite. The haziness settling around us was welcomed, and I felt myself relax further into the patio chair.
Light conversation continued as the four of us sat together amidst the deepening night, each of our faces growing dimmer. Sometime later, after having declined an invitation to stay for a later dinner, stating my father would be expecting me, my time with Ben's family ended. Ben offered to drive me home.
Upon leaving, Erin had thrown her arms around me, an action I was both unaccustomed to and surprised by, while Heidi had gently wrapped her hand around my wrist, an action Cambrie did, which was like a thorn in the chest, and told me to come back anytime. After petting Rocket once more, Ben and I departed for his truck, parked in its normal spot on the side of the street. He opened the door for me, and it felt natural, something I couldn't help but compare to the numbness I felt when Morgan had done the same.
The truck started up and off we went, down the bumpy avenues and onto the main road, headed in the direction of my house. It was completely dark outside now and had become slightly chilly. Heated air blasted through the vents and tumbled over me, and I slumped further into the cushioned seat.
"Your family's nice."
"They're alright," Ben said through a grin.
I wanted to ask about Ben's father but didn't. His absence, both tonight and at the track meets, had me wondering if there was a father in the picture. Maybe he even lost his like I had lost my mom...
"She likes you, my mom."
"The feelings mutual," I said. "She seems like a good parent. I've seen her at all of our track meets, even the away ones."
Ben nodded as he turned the truck down a side street. We were getting closer to my house, and I found I didn't want to leave.
"She's always been involved. I'll give her that." For a moment, Ben was thoughtful, his attention beyond the realm of the truck cabin. "Sometimes though... sometimes she can be a little much."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Ben said, looking hesitant, "it's just that when I was younger, a lot of people worried about me. They wanted to make sure I was safe, that I wasn't going to get hurt, all that." For the first time, Ben was talking about his CP. "None more so than my mom," Ben stated. "And I get it – she didn't want me to get hurt. But it was hard, having her there all the time – like every step I made was being studied. I wasn't allowed to make a wrong move because she was instantly there to correct it."
Ben had now come to a stop outside of my house, but it didn't matter. It could have been a stranger's house for all I cared. I wasn't about to vacate his truck any time soon.
"She backed off a little as I got older, but not much. I have mild CP, and it comes with limitations, but compared to those with more severe forms... Anyway, I wanted to try out for sports, join clubs, do things after school, but each came with its own set of boundaries and guidelines that made it not worth doing. I joined track this year with the stipulation that she would have to let me do this on my own. She could come to my meets but that was all. And she has come. To every single one."
I ruminated in his words, soaking them in. "Ben," I said, my voice hushed. "Have you really been running for two years?"
The flush returned to Ben's neck. "Yeah. My mom was against it, thinking I'd hurt myself. It took time, a lot of time, but soon I was able to jog. Not very well or far, but still" – He glanced into the distance again – "I joined track this year despite my mom's objections and knowing I would probably not do well. But Rodriguez has really helped. And I've been able to run farther than ever before."
I let each of Ben's words sink in. "Look at us," I said, turning closer to him, "you've got a mom that comes to every one of your track meets for fear you'll die if she doesn't, and I've got a dad who can't manage to make it to one for five minutes."
The sound of Ben's laughter was enhanced by the close quarters we shared. It bounded around me, setting off a humming sensation in my lower abdomen.
"Has your dad mentioned coming to a meet again?"
"No." The memory of Sarah was a fresh wound. "He hasn't."
"Have you asked him?" questioned Ben.
I leaned near the passenger side window, letting its cool breath kiss my cheek. "I don't know how to ask him."
After I had said the words, I felt slightly foolish. How was Ben to know what I had meant? What kind of person doesn't know how to ask their own father to come to a track meet? It was ridiculous. But it was also the truth.
Ben, though, simply sat with his attention directly on me. He then said, "What if you left him a note?"
I lifted my face from near the window and said, "What?"
"You could leave him a note asking him to come to your meet."
My entire body shifted towards Ben's.
"Maybe the morning of the track meet, leave him a note inviting him to come. It's indirect, but he would know you want him there still. He should see his daughter run again."
The pull I felt towards Ben overtook my senses, and, this time, I didn't feel the urge to hold back. He hadn't laughed or scoffed at my senseless reason for not inviting my father to a track meet. Instead, it was as if he understood, really understood, even more than I thought possible. The connection between us was solidifying.
My eyes locked on Ben's, as if they were being drawn together by force. I knew he felt that same pull; the look on his face gave it away, nervous, excited, confused. It was all there, like a mirror of my own expression. Tentatively, I reached out a shaking hand and placed it on the one he had rested near the outside of his leg. The touch incited a spark and sent my pulse into overdrive. Everything else but that simple, yet entirely complex pull began to wane; my other hand needed to touch him.
However, Ben beat me to it: his opposing arm had swung around and extended towards the hand I had begun to raise. It was now being cradled by Ben's hand, his shaking fingers lacing between my own, mixing them together. They were soft, his hands, and felt so whole within my own.
The air circulating around had grown thin. My heart hammered and my breath was ragged. I felt like I was somewhere else entirely, possibly alone with Ben in the expanse of space.
Suddenly, headlights flashed in front of us, shattering the fragile existence Ben and I had found ourselves in. The car pulled into my driveway, and, soon after, two people emerged: my father and the blonde head of Sarah. They both looked to the idling truck as soon as they had shut their doors.
Our bubble now popped, both of our hands dropped from the other. I felt empty, like something I had wanted for so long was so close, yet just out of arm's reach.
"Is that your dad?" Ben asked, his voice strained. It sent a wave of shivers over my skin.
"Y-Yeah," I stuttered. My father and Sarah were still watching us, the previous lifting his hand in a wave. Sighing, I continued, "I should probably go." A rock settled in my stomach. "I'm - I'm -"
Ben offered me a small smile and returned his hands to the steering wheel. "It's okay, Elliot," he said, still watching me.
Blinking fiercely, as it was the only means I had to quell the emotion that tingled all over my skin, I smiled quickly, wanting to say so much, but not knowing how. My mouth had apparently decided on, "Thanks for the ride," as I stepped out of the passenger door, and I cursed it for being so cowardly.
And I cursed my father for his timing.
And I cursed Sarah for being with him.
I was angry, and as I walked towards them - both watching me with curious expressions - I didn't try to hide it.
"Hey, Ell," my father greeted. "Where have you been?"
"At Ben's house." I shot my eyes at him. "Where have you been?"
My father frowned. "Oh, um, Sarah and I went to a movie." He took a breath and continued, "Is that the boy from the track meet?" His gaze drifted towards the sound of a moving car, and I knew Ben was driving away.
"Yeah."
"He seems nice," my father stated.
"Hi, Elliot," Sarah said carefully.
After shifting my attention to her for a split second, the anger not settling, I muttered, "Hi. Got homework to do." I then tore from the pair of them and bolted up the porch steps.
"Wait - Ell. Do you want to have dinner with us?"
I slammed the door on his question and bounded up the stairs. Once inside my bedroom, I flung myself on the bed, my insides churning.
Why was I so afraid of what I felt?