Heat pooled in my cheeks. “Whatever, are you going to help me or not?”
“Sure, sure.” He chuckled. “Oops, I dropped the baton.” He let it fall from his hand. He slowly bent down to pick it up. “What’s that called again? The bend and snap?”
“ReferencingLegally Blonde?” I pushed him up the track, unable to hide my growing smile. He hadn’t known my Cher reference, but now he was quoting something fromLegally Blonde?
Preach chuckled. “You’re impressed and you know it.”
“All right, maybe a little bit.”
He walked beside me in lane one. “So, you were always first leg, only had to hand off, huh?”
I nodded. “I mean, I know how to receive, but it’s been a long time, and I’ve never had to do it left-handed.”
“Well, you have the strongest times of everyone on the team, so anchor really is perfect.”
I held up my busted hand. “Doesn’t matter if I can’t receive.”
He slouched a little but nodded. “Aanya will most likely be the one passing off to you, if everything goes like we think it will at tryouts. She’s awesome. She used to hand off to her sister, who was an anchor.”
“I’ll have to apologize to her ahead of time for my ineptness.”
“Please. None of these girls can run a sub-twelve 100, so we’re golden.” He grinned at me. My heart pinged in my chest.
Why the hell did his smile get me all tingly inside?
“An 11.5 open 100 is wicked-fast, Grace. How are you not signed with the biggest D-1 school?”
“Air Force.” I shrugged.
“So, the schoolshavebeen calling?”
I nodded. I didn’t tell anyone, but just about every D-1 college had called, but we’d told them all I was going straight into the Air Force. A few schools still called, and it made me feel good, but it didn’t make me want to go to college first and then enlist.
My parents had always supported my decision to enlist directly after graduating, but after Emmett died, my mom had pulled me aside and told me that it was okay if I didn’t want to join the Air Force anymore. She said that she and my dad would understand. That I could easily take up one of the coaches on a full ride and they’d back me 100 percent.
But I couldn’t. Not because I didn’t love running, because I did, but enlisting after Emmett’s accident made me feel closer to him. It was a connection that would forever link us, even though he was gone.
“Wow,” Preach said, pulling me from the depths of my grief as we rounded the last bend of the track to my yellow triangle that started the exchange zone.
I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on Preach.
“What leg do you run?” I asked him.
“Usually second leg, but we’ll see where Coach wants me this year.” He pointed to my spot in the lane. “I’ll jog back and get up to some speed. I’ll call outhitwhen you should put your hand out, okay? Or do you likestickbetter?”
“Let’s go with stick.” I positioned myself in the outside of lane three, right at the triangle so Preach could come up on me on the inside of the lane. My heart started hammering and my palms went sweaty.
A cool breeze tore through the field, and a shiver raced down my spine.
“All right, let’s give it a go.” He jogged about fifty meters from me.
I dipped my head and faced forward. Letting a slow breath out, I leaned down and peered over my shoulder. Slowly, I drew in a breath of cool, fresh air, zeroing in on Preach as he started running.
He held the baton in his right hand, near-perfect form as he approached. He was nearing about fifteen steps from me, so I faced forward and took off at a full sprint.
“Stick!” he yelled.
I jetted my arm out, thumb down, fingers splayed. The cool baton hit my hand, and I went to squeeze it.