Page 114 of Running
Back at his house, we lounge into the evening, stealing kisses, but neither of us pushes for more. Johnson seems content with our make out sessions, and I’m still digesting everything emotionally, not to mention physically.
Will he want to do it again tonight? But once things heat up between us at bedtime, he suggests we use our mouths only, wanting my body to have time to recover.
I’m so grateful he was the one.
The next day, I feel ready to try again. And when his offer to help stretch out my legs after my run leads to some kissing that shifts to his bedroom, I tell him as much. This time, when he pushes inside me, it feels incredible.
After we’re done, and recovering our breath, I roll over to him. “I don’t think we need the list anymore. Let’s just do that. A lot.”
His grin is all the answer I need.
Thursday morning is a kickstart back to reality, because classes resume today and I’m running with Jasmine beforehand.
Over the last few weeks, we’ve met up whenever she hasn’t had a heavy practice planned and done nine or ten miles. It’s maintenance for her on a low-key day, and a test for me. Although I seem to be passing the test each time we go out. It adds up to more miles weekly than I ran in college, and my body seems to be handling it well.
I always let her determine our route and have the final call on our pace, so it contributes to her building belief in herself. I haven’t asked about the struggles that Shelley identified, but some things slip out of her that clue mein.
“Being able to work with you has selfishly made me believe I can push to qualify for the NCAA championships,” she confesses one day. “I really didn’t have that confidence before the season started.”
Another time, after I compliment how smooth she looked that day during our run, she lets out a breathy observation that I clock quickly. “I wish everyone in my life was as supportive as you.”
I don’t press. This time.
Our friendship is growing organically as well, so I know she may trust me soon enough to share what’s really going on. We talk constantly during the slower-paced moments—about our families, school, etc. Half the time we keep chatting for twenty, thirty minutes after we’re done at the end.
I may be older, but it’s only by a couple of years, since I skipped that grade—and most importantly, we have so much in common.
Whatever “job” Shelley gave me, our relationship has become more with each passing run.
Which makes it uplifting to get feedback from Coach about how Jasmine is doing when she’s called me a couple of times to check in over the previous few weeks. The latest report warmed my heart. For Jasmineandfor myself.
“She’s stepping up in her confidence, which has ripple effects on everything,” Shelley shared. “She’s so focused during training, and I can see huge dividends in her competitive performance even at the cross country meets she’s doing to help the team. She’s also more vocal with the middle distance girls, sharing tips and helping lead that group. Whatever you’re doing, it’s making a big difference.”
“I’m not sure I’m doing that much,” I answer. “Maybe I’m just that extra voice to help reinforce all that you tell her?”
“It’s more than that, Grace. You’re a role model for these women with all that you accomplished during college. Andthe fact that you want to run with her—she likely won’t say it to either of us, mind you—probably shocked her out of some poor mental habits. And whipped up her self-belief in the best possible way.”
Shelley’s words hang over me still as I think of them.
Being a role model is the last thing I anticipated happening here at Tolliver. And the phrase itself feels false when I think about how I let Larry Small’s words impact me so much my senior year after the indoor finals.
At the same time, if Jasmine is pushing down a new path because of my help, I’m glad to be a positive force in her life.
I’m working on my own new path, after all.
A great run with Jasmine is followed by a productive class. As I head to the cafeteria to grab lunch, I’m buzzing inside with good vibes.
Which is exactly when my mom seems to pounce. This time in the group chat she made with my brothers.
MOM: What are my children’s plans for Thanksgiving next month? Am I going to have the privilege of seeing everyone, or will I have to eat alone?
Nevermind that Landon and Rawley arealwaysjuggling football games on Thanksgiving weekend, and so the real question should be what is the game schedule and can she come.
Knowing that Landon’s off enjoying his tropical vacation, and not wanting my younger brothers to have to deal, I respond first.
GRACE: We’ll be in Orlando, because Landon plays Sunday and they’re practicing all week.
GRACE: Rawley plays that Saturday, so he’ll be in Florida Wednesday through Friday morning, but Connor will be here the whole long weekend.
