Chapter 44 Ch. 28.1
Her father nodded and got up, not really knowing what to do in the moment. Leaving her alone seemed like the better choice. It was a win-win—it was what they both needed. He didn't feel like fighting anymore, knowing she was right, and she didn't want to see him.
His phone notified him of a message just then from a coaching group chat.
Governor Randall Pierce announces a statewide high school marathon.
He stood in the doorway, reading the note with a gentle sigh. A smile broke on his face as his eyes shot over to Zara, sprawled on her bed in the very same pose, arms locked across her chest, jaw clenched shut.
"There's a marathon coming up next week and if—"
"Jesus, my point exactly," Zara snarled, cutting him off without even looking up.
He dropped it and strode off, phone gripped in his palm, the thrill of news-announcement exhilaration spilling after him.
+++++
SandRidge Academy was buzzing with so much life. Marathon posters adorned the corridors, pupils whispering and nudging each other: "Ethan Moreau? He's running?"
"Statewide marathon. He's going to beat everyone."
"Marathon is long distance, he does short, there's a huge distance..."
"Still, he's Ethan. He'll crush it."
Ethan walked through the hallways as he always did—earbuds in, calm facade, utterly ignoring the storm around him.
Well, that only lasted until he saw Zara.
She had her backpack slung over one shoulder, her head down, and dark circles beneath her eyes. She wasn't smiling or talking with even Noah, who stood hovering nearby and the slump of her shoulders was enough to make his chest ache.
He didn't go to her even though for some reason something pulled him there.
First, class. First, survive the mundane.
"State marathon! He's going to kill everyone!"
Ethan tuned it out, eyes drifting back to Zara as she passed in front of him. She barely glanced up, nodding politely at a teammate who clearly strained too hard to make her smile.
The first dragged on forever, and it was too bad the next class was math and no sooner had he dropped his bag and opened up his book— not to write, but to doodle— was the morning interrupted by a boom over the speakers, pulling Ethan out of a doodle-induced haze.
"Ethan Moreau, report to the principal's office."
His pen dangled in mid-scribble. He raised his head, slowly blinking at the classroom ceiling as if it contained some kind of revelation.
What in the world did I do now? He thought, already creating scenarios in his head. He couldn't remember the last time he was called to the principal's office.
Did someone hack into the school Wi-Fi once more to set him up? He had left all those stunts since freshman year, so why in the world?
He shrugged and continued doodling while the entire class's stare literally pinned him. Some whispered, some elbowed.
"It's probably about the marathon he's running?"
"Statewide stuff that was announced weekend? This is gonna be epic!"
He tuned them out, because honestly, he'd been tuning out life for the past twenty minutes anyway. But he did catch Zara—not really caught her, because watching her had become like a reflex he didn't want— roll her eyes.
He sighed.
"Go on, Ethan," said the teacher, irritated at the whispering of the students.
"After class. I'm sure the principal knows classes are more important than whatever," he growled. It wasn't like he felt like saying in the class, he simply was not ready yet to go speak with the principal because he did not want to know the outcome.
Math class was painfully boring. Ethan continued doodling along the margin of his notebook, pretending the quadratic equations were hieroglyphics. His gaze drifted out the window, then around the room, to land on Zara.
The bell hadn't even had a chance to ring yet when a second, unwelcome sound broke into his head—the intercom.
"Ethan Moreau, report to the principal's office."
His stomach did a tiny somersault.
He picked his backpack under his chair. His classmates' whispers increased in volume:
"Oh my god, it's serious this time!"
"Bet it's because he skipped practice again!"
"Nah, the marathon! Governor's marathon!"
Ethan stood from his seat, everyone's attention seeming to be on him.
"If I survive this day without dying of embarrassment, I'm counting it a victory," he mumbled to himself.
The hallways went on like a course he hadn't signed up for. Students who got some reason weren't in their respective classes struggled to see him walk by. Some released over-the-top sighs when he merely nodded at them.
Ah, yes. I live for this attention. He sneered in his mind, feeling annoyed.
Before he was able to enter the principal's office, the chaos of his inner thoughts was interrupted by the secretary's polite nod of her head. He offered a slight, almost apologetic smile before he pushed the door open.
"Ethan," Principal Morales started, waiving a memo as if it were a Holy Scripture, "Congratulations. The Governor's office has extended a very special invitation for you to participate in the state marathon. Naturally, we thought—
“I won’t be participating,” Ethan said, leaning casually against the doorframe.