Secret Girlfriend Part 25

Chapter 31.

Everything fell away as my Nike covered feet slapped the pavement. I focused on my breathing, drowning out the sounds and smells and sights around me. Just like every other time I tied those shoes on, I was alone. The internal world of a runner. Me versus myself.

And five hundred other racers.

I focused on the time I had to beat and felt another little pump of adrenaline shoot through my body. Coach Melrose's training schedule had been brutal. If I'd wanted it easier, I could have gone back to the RVHS cross-country team and dealt with the snotty girls there. Yeah, not so much.

The cool September breeze kept my skin from getting too heated, but on a short 5k that wouldn't have mattered anyway. I liked the run. I liked feeling my body work and knowing I was pushing it. And then pushing it some more.

A third person fell from the pack in front of me and I kicked it up a little, just enough to pa.s.s her by. One by one. Just like Coach M talked about. Track them. Stalk them. Pa.s.s them. Win.

I'd never thought of myself as a compet.i.tive person. Running was for me. But the way he pushed and trained, when that gun went off I wanted to beat every runner in the world.

Another one dropped back and I maneuvered myself past him. I wasn't as close to the front as I wanted to be, but it was my time I actually worried about. I'd been mid-pack at that starting line. Hopefully I'd made up the difference to cross the finish with the official race time hitting my goal.

I didn't want to let Coach down. Either Coach.

The crowds along the edge of the road became thicker, louder, too obvious to ignore. The end was getting near. I gave myself a mental nod and pushed. Pushed myself like I never had in a school race. Pushed myself like I never had to in a school race.

I shot by three more people before the finish line timer came into view. It was going to be close to break that time. Push, push, push. There was no way I was going to be this close to Coach Melrose's set time goal and not make it. With a last ditch effort, I all but threw myself forward over the finish line, the timer a blur over head.

One of the race coordinators placed a hand on my shoulder, guiding me out of the way, walking me to a gra.s.sy area where those who'd beat me were already walking it out or stretching to cool down.

"I said by the end of this season."

I fought a smile at the mixture of pride and annoyance coming from the shouting coach stalking toward me.

"I said play it cool, let's see what you can do. I told you not to push it too hard. We talked about this being a pace-race to re-gear your training." Coach Melrose squatted in front of me as I dropped to the ground and reached for my way-to-far-away toes. "So, can you explain to me what that was?"

I grinned up at him, unsure if he was really upset at my aggression or not.

"It was a good day to run."

"Whalen, I can see why Sarche handed you over. He didn't have the patience for you."

A gruff voice came from my other side. "The best thing I ever did for you was hand you my girl here."

The two coaches glared at each other. I can only imagine they considered their own compet.i.tion a sign of a deep, long-standing guy friendship.

"Good job, Whalen. Stop standing around here. Don't be late." And with that Coach Sarche stomped off.

Don't be late? When was I ever late? I beat him to practice half the time.

"Alright. You're dismissed. Anyway," Coach M jerked his head toward the edge of the park. "That boy is hovering. It's distracting."

And with that, another coach stomped off.

A pale purple bottle drifted under my nose. Check him out knowing Rain was my favorite Gatorade.

"Hey." And-of course-he still hadn't learned a new way to start a conversation. "You were great."

Luke's strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground.

As soon as my feet hit the dirt, I pushed away.

"And sweaty. Like, yucky sweaty."

His grin hitched up on the right, the one I secretly was convinced was just for me. "You hug me after my games."

Yeah, how to explain that was completely different. His sweat wasn't all yucky proof of not being a girly-girl thing.

"What's up with Coach Melrose?" He asked, watching the man walk away.

"Apparently, I ran too fast."

Luke stared at me for a long moment before busting out laughing. "Only you could annoy someone by excelling."

He tossed a bag at me with my clean, dry shirt and the tea tree oil wipes I was addicted to. I'd thought I'd have to wait to get to the truck. Seriously, has there ever been a better boyfriend?

In case you were in doubt: Nope.

But then he just stood there with that Luke Smile watching me.

"Um..."

"Yes?" He looked at the bag. I could see him wondering if he'd forgotten something.

"Could you look over there?" I pointed in the opposite direction of where I stood, which was where the Port-a-potties just happened to be. Figures.

He glanced over his shoulder and then back.

"Nope. Keep looking." I rummaged through my bag, tugging the T-shirt out. I could feel my skin heating. Man, I hated blushing.

He looked again. Briefly. "Amy, what exactly am I looking at?"

"Luke," I sighed his name. And not in the he just kissed me way. "Would you just look over there until I say so?"

There was that grin again. "So you can change your shirt?"

Proof! Proof guys weren't total idiots. "Yes!"

I knew it wouldn't be a simple pivot-and-look-elsewhere deal when that smile quirked again.

"But you run in your sports bra when it's just the two of us." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"We're not running now."

"Well, it definitely covers more than your swimsuit."

"We're also not swimming now." I glared at that quirked-smile-face. "And, are you saying my bathing suit is too skimpy?"

His ears flushed pink. If I was going to blush, he might as well too.

"No." He drew the word out like he wasn't sure what the next one should be.

"Then turn around."

Yeah, I know. One thing didn't equate to the other, but it helped to force the issue while he was fl.u.s.tered. I was learning. Rachel would be so proud.

"Okay," I said, after pulling a clean tee on.

He turned back to face me, his ears back to normal beige-tan, and hoisted my gym bag over his shoulder. "Ready?"

I nodded and threaded my fingers with his, palm to palm. At the truck, Luke opened my door and waited, as always, for me to climb in so he could close it.

The day was so comfortable, so happy. I knew I was being all Introspection Girl, but I couldn't help but really love my life today. My life and what it was now.

I had my dad and the perfect boyfriend and the best girlfriend and two Coaches who were pushy and overwhelming. I had running and art. I may not have been invisible any more, but the important people saw me for who I really was. And I wasn't afraid of being seen by everyone else anyway. Which was good since the whole invisible thing didn't seem to be working out so hot.

It was the perfect day to just- "Luke, you just pa.s.sed my street." I must not have been the only one zoning out.

"I know." He gave my hand a quick squeeze, but kept driving. Right to his house. Where there were a suspicious number of cars in the driveway.

"What's going on?"

"A Celebration Barbeque."

He pulled me around the side of the house to where the Parkers and Rachel and the Coaches all lounged on the deck while Mr. Parker and my Dad worked the grill.

"What the heck is going on?" I whispered before they noticed us, some of my old panic flaring up for just a moment.

Luke leaned down to whisper back, holding us apart for just a few needed heartbeats. "Your dad. He wanted to do something for your first race, but didn't know what. So my mom kind of planned a barbeque. You know my mom."

I glanced back at the group, again worried about... everything.

Luke squeezed my hand and grinned. "You're lucky she didn't have a marching band or something."

Oh. Dear. Thank goodness for small blessings.

"I'm kidding, Amy."

Luke pulled me toward the porch, the warm smell of barbeque and the cool scent of autumn mixing in the perfect Indian summer kind of way. Everyone cheered and the two Coaches didn't even scowl as we joined them.

My dad, my really wonderful dad, wrapped me in a hug, his voice coming low enough for just me. "Amy, you were awesome."

I really did not want to cry. But, they were all being so nice, and my dad being there, being proud of me. I know a lot of girls would hate it, hate having their parents hanging around. But me, I'd take it.

It wasn't like things were happy-happy perfect. Dad and I still had rough moments. He'd really embraced this parent thing and couldn't seem to grasp that I wasn't ready to go back to being eleven so he could catch up. Curfew was a new idea.

Mrs. Parker came to the rescue on that too, and he agreed to match mine to Luke's.

And then there were his weekly meetings. He'd joined a group for widows and widowers. Some nights I still heard him pacing the house, but he was there, at home, with me.

He made me go to a couple meetings too, but I wasn't in the same place the kids were who were dealing with it fresh. And that was okay too.

When the dad-hugging was over, Luke wrapped his arm around my shoulder in a reclaiming way that told me he wasn't going to give up the hug-zone again anytime soon.

I looked at everyone lounging around the Parker's deck and said exactly what I felt. "I'm the luckiest person I know."

And I was.

Thanks for reading Secret Girlfriend. I hope you enjoyed it! If you'd like to get updates on more of my books, you can join my New Release mailing list HERE or find me at www.briaquinlan.com and on twitter @briaquinlan. I've been really lucky to have people review my books at Goodreads. You can find my author page HERE.

What's Next.

SECRET LIFE.

Rachel Wells is a liar a big time. No one outside her family knows about the panic attacks or meds, the weekly therapy drive-bys or the "safe" outfit. If she could hide it all from her string of ex-boyfriends and her best friend Amy, then why should anything change? But, when the one guy as messed up as she is blackmails her into helping him, Rachel's life goes from closely controlled to out of control. Sometimes choosing between sanity and love is the craziest thing of all.

About Bria.

Golden Heart finalist Bria Quinlan writes Romantic Comedies for teens that take hard topics and make you laugh through your tears. Her stories remind you that life is an adventure not to be ignored. You can contact her find her at http://www.briaquinlan.com OR on twitter @briaquinlan.

She also writes sweet & sa.s.sy Contemporary Romances as Caitie Quinn.

Both personalities are represented by the awesomely amazing Laird Lauren Macleod of the Clan.... Oh, wait. Of Strothman Agency.

Check out her books and join the conversations at Goodreads.

Acknowledgements.

Secret Girlfriend has been in the works for a long time. It was my first contemporary YA after working my but off on the fantasy. Lots of people have had a hand in making it something I'm proud to put on paper.

First off, to The Laird, my agent Lauren Macleod a She took a chance on this book not once, but twice.

Gwen Hayes, who, no matter how much she hated Chris in this book, still managed to handle the story with love. Jeannie Lin a remember those first reads we did for each other? The ones that scared other people? They-you-made me better.