Chapter 38 Ch. 25.1
Ivanna slipped through the growing crowd at the stadium, her press ID tucked deep into the back pocket of her jeans. The sun was high, casting long shadows on the field as the boys lined up at the starting blocks. She kept her sunglasses on even though she was already in the shade of the bleachers. It wasn’t for the sun—it was to make sure no one could see her too closely. Especially coach Santiago and other reporters because she didn't want recognition.
She found a spot behind the coach’s line of vision, arms crossed as she watched him silently. He stood a few meters away from her, tension in his shoulders, eyes trained on Ethan. It was a familiar pose for any coach, but something about Santiago’s stillness was unnerving or maybe she was just overthinking it.
Ivanna turned her gaze back to the track. Ethan stood in lane three, his uniform clinging to his frame like second skin. The crowd had fallen into a hush and then the gun fired.
She watched him move effortlessly across the track. He didn’t run like other athletes, he glided like his feet barely touched the ground.
“He doesn’t even look human,” Ivanna murmured noticing his physical appearance. He was pale, like vampires in fantasy movies and not sunburnt or tanned like the other athletes.
Coach Santiago shifted, half-turning, and finally noticed her. “Why are you looking at him like that?"
“I’m a fan." Ivanna said quickly. “Just… watching.”
He gave her a sideways glance, still suspicious. “He makes it look easy because he works like hell in practice,” he said defensively.
“I’m not doubting that,” she replied, arms still crossed. “The whole vampire thing? Please. People will say anything to explain away something they can’t understand.”
“Exactly. Just a stupid rumour.”
But they were both quiet for a beat too long.
When the race ended, Ethan was, of course, the winner. He didn’t even seem winded. The cheers were deafening, the announcer stumbling over the final time as fans and reporters flooded the edges of the track. It was chaos. Cameras everywhere, cell phones held high, reporters shouting questions and students jumping over the barrier.
Ivanna didn’t bother to move forward though, she stayed rooted in her spot as Ethan was swallowed up by the crowd.
There would be no getting close to him today.
She clenched her jaw, already running through other options in her mind. Getting a sit-down interview would take weeks—months, even—with all the bureaucracy surrounding him. But if she wanted to understand who Ethan Moreau really was, if she wanted to understand the unnerving nausea in her gut every time she saw him in motion, she would need more than an interview.
She would need access.
She inhaled slowly, watching Ethan disappear behind the bleachers, surrounded by fans and cameras.
“Could I pass for seventeen?” she muttered under her breath. She’d always looked young and she was petite with sharp features. Just enough awkwardness in her body language to make it believable.
Then again, how hard could it be to blend in at a place like his school?
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, but she didn’t check it. Her eyes were still on the place Ethan had vanished.
++++++
“Zara?”
Santiago’s voice echoed gently through the hallway as he stepped into the house, letting the front door close behind him with a soft click. He loosened his tie with one hand, the other hanging his navy blazer on the coat rack near the entryway. His keys jingled faintly as he set them on the kitchen island, glancing toward the stairs when silence answered him.
"Zara?" He called out again but there was no response from her.
He exhaled, feeling quite tired from the days activity and then made his way upstairs. He stopped in front of her door, lifting his hand to knock.
“Come in,” she called out without even hearing the knock. She had heard her name from downstairs and heard footsteps across the hall so she knew he was at her door.
He pushed the door open gently, and the sight made him pause.
Zara sat at the edge of her bed, shoulders slightly slumped, her back to him. She was still in her cross-country training gear—a sweat-damp tank top, fitted running shorts, her phone strapped to her arm. Her hair was twisted into a messy bun, strands sticking to her neck. She looked like she'd just showered but didn’t bother drying her hair all the way. There was a nearly empty water bottle beside her on the floor and her track shoes tossed carelessly near the closet.
“You okay?” he asked softly, stepping into the room, studying her face.
She turned just a little, offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You went running?”
“Training,” she said. “Qualifiers are tomorrow.”
He nodded slowly, eyes searching. “You good to run?”
“Of course.”
“Ethan ran today.” he said after moments of awkward silence.
“Yeah? How’d it go?”
“He won.”
She let out a short breath of a laugh. “Let me guess. Broke another record?”
Santiago chuckled lightly, walking over to lean against her dresser. “Nah. Four seconds behind his personal best. He’s pissed.”
“He's slacking, how shameful," she said sarcastically with a small smile on the corners of her lips. Tell him I’m disappointed in him.”
“I will," Santiago laughed. "I'm uh... Going to make butter chicken with rice. Or would you rather eat a pizza?"
"Butter chicken sounds nice."
The next day came before Zara could blink an eye.
The sun was burning bright in the sky, making the metal bleachers hot. Athletes lingered at the sidelines, some bouncing lightly on their toes, others taking long sips of water and grimacing up at the sky. Coaches were moving through the growing crowd while barking last-minute instructions—some encouraging, some downright savage.
Zara stood near the edge of the infield, squinting as she used one hand to shield her eyes from the glare. Her fingers tapped against her thigg. She could feel the heat rising up from the track and soaking into her running shoes.
“You girls got this, okay?” Coach Ayers called out as she jogged over to their group. “We’ve trained for this. You know the terrain. Just do your vest.”
Zara barely nodded, only half listening. She tuned out when the coach began speaking directly to Raina, giving her the kind of pep talk that sounded suspiciously like favoritism. It was nothing new, but it still got under Zara’s skin. Instead of listening, her eyes scanned the crowd.
No sign of him.
Her dad had promised he’d come. He had said he just needed to wrap up something at the athletic office. She kept checking the entrance to the bleachers, but each time it was someone else—a different parent, a teacher, someone from a rival school, but not him.
She let out a slow breath through her nose, and then her gaze shiftef almost by accident, toward the stands on the far side. Her eyes caught on a familiar figure sitting a few rows from the front.
Ethan Moreau.
He wasn’t looking at her at first. He had one elbow propped on his knee, talking to someone beside him. Then his eyes drifted toward the field, and they met hers. For a moment, they both stilled. He gave her a small, hesitant and almost shy smile and the lifted his hands slowly as if he was not sure whether to wave or not.
She blinked once, and without meaning to, her mouth twitched at the corners.
Just then, someone behind Ethan smacked him on the back. It was Noah.
He plopped down beside him and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“GO BESTIE!” he shouted.
Zara let out a tiny, amused huff and she waved excitedly to him.
“Zara!” Raina called. “It’s our cue!”
"Right?" She mumbled, fighting an eye roll.
She hadn’t even noticed the coach had walked off.
She turned and jogged to the starting line, her spikes crunching softly against the dirt path. Her mind tried to clear itself, as it always did before a race. She could still feel Ethan’s eyes on her.
The officials called them forward. She took her place, staring down the stretch of sun-bleached grass ahead of her. Sweat traced the back of her neck, already slicking her lower back. Her hands curled into loose fists as she began breathing heavily.
The runners beside her shuffled, exhaled, muttered things underneath their breath.
She turned slightly just to see Raina looking at her while rolling her shoulders. Hastily, she looked away and swallowed hard, her heart pounding faster than before.
"You've got this Zara!" Two voices called out simultaneously. She glanced towards the bleachers once more, feeling warmth in her heart as she saw Ethan and Noah standing up and cheering. She wasn't surprised by Noah— he was her best friend and hypeman.
But Ethan surprised her because all there was between them was tension, and he was laid-back. So why was he cheering for her.
"Runners, take your place."
She leaned forward, one leg in front of the other, her eyes looking at the distance.
The pistol went off, and immediately her body propelled into motion. She ran like her life depended on it while still keeping a steady pace. The heat wrapped around her like a second skin. Dust kicked up behind her, and the other runners were instantly in her peripheral vision and then gone.
“She’s running like she’s mad,” someone said near the fence line.