Chapter 45 Ch. 28.2
The principal blinked. Then blinked again.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not running.”
“But… Ethan, this is a statewide event. Recognition of your talent. It’s—”
"I believe my talent has been recognized that I even attracted a drug scandal that almost put both my career and coach's in jeopardy. Plus the body toll isn't worth it," Ethan cut in smoothly. "Marathons? No. Short sprints, yeah. This? No way in hell."
Principal Morales' frown increased in depth. "Given your sports history, this is... abnormal. You understand how rare it is to say no... Especially to the governor's personal invite."
"I do," Ethan said flatly.
The principal breathed slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, but the school—
"That has nothing to do with the school," Ethan said. "It's about not destroying my body to run a race that I don't want to run. And if you want, I can explain it in a five-page essay with charts."
The principal sighed resignedly.
Without waiting for a dismissal, he walked out of the office. The bell rang at that exact time, signaling lunch. He shut the door carefully behind him and gave the secretary in the next room a fleeting, tightly pressed smile. She raised an eyebrow in surprise.
He knew Principal Morales was going to be pissed. He was their golden boy, attracting donations to the school and allowing the governor to give preferential treatment to them, rejecting it was unheard of. One thing he was glad about was that he wasn't a scholarship student because then, he would have had no choice but to participate in it.
He remembered when they had threatened to pull Alanis off his scholarship because of some trivial issues.
When he arrived at the cafeteria, a cluster of girls had obviously been waiting for him, standing by the tables like a mini welcoming party.
"Ethan! So, prom?" one asked in a sickly sweet voice, giving a mock flip of her hair.
"I won't be going," he replied politely.
Her eyebrows shot up. "And the prom king nomination?"
"I don't want awards I'm not going to attend," he added.
She snorted in annoyance and stalked off. Ethan did not pursue her as he walked further into the cafeteria. His gaze went involuntarily, irresistibly, to the corner table in the cafeteria where Zara sat with a different group, laughing lightly at something Noah had said. For the first time in days, she was almost herself again.
Ethan collapsed into a chair to the side, far enough away that he could watch without intruding. There was something in the way she let her shoulders ease, a tiny ripple of smile, that made him feel more at ease than he would have liked to.
Zara, on the other hand, twirled her fork in the plate of spaghetti in front of her, pretending to pay attention while Noah rambled on about something or other. Her eyes had wandered across the cafeteria a few times already, searching for Ethan, but she caught herself and forced them back to the table.
There had been the whole chaos this morning about the marathon the governor was hosting. The first one was for the male high school students, and the second was for the females.
There had been rumors that Ethan was specially invited, and she found it ridiculous because a marathon was probably eight times an 800-meter race. It wasn't that she didn't believe he could do it— after all, he had an advantage; he was a goddamn vampire— but then, it was ridiculous.
"If anyone should be invited, probably a good long-distance runner," she mumbled to herself absent-mindedly. "Maybe Lionel in senior year," she said, remembering him suddenly. He was her neighbor about two years ago. "Or wait... I could do it... I'm off the cross-country season, I could..."
"Huh?" Noah asked. "What did you say?"
"Oh, nothing," she answered hastily. "You were saying something before. I'm listening."
"Oh, yeah, and that's how I decided to join the prom committee.”
Her head snapped up. “Wait. You? Prom committee?”
The disbelief in her tone was too much for her to hold in. She let out a sudden laugh and almost immediately clamped her hand over her mouth. But Noah was grinning like she had just done him the biggest favor in the world.
“That’s the first time you’ve laughed in days,” he said softly, his relief shining brighter than the cafeteria lights.
Zara rolled her eyes, still half-smiling. “Don’t get excited. I was laughing at you, not with you. You on a prom committee is… absurd.”
“Mock me all you want,” Noah said, shrugging, though his grin didn’t fade. “I’ll take it. You have no idea how good it feels to hear that sound again.”
Something inside her twisted at that. She looked down at her tray, pushing a strand of spaghetti back and forth with the edge of her fork. The truth was, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to lean forward, lower her voice, and say: There’s a marathon. Remember the statewide stuff. I don’t know if I can handle it because of everything going on with me, but I could try since I'm a long-distance runner, and I'm off the cross-country season. And I'm not going to be hounded by my coach and dad since they won't know.
But the thought of it… of failing, of letting herself get excited and then watching it all crumble when the pain returned... she couldn’t.
So she swallowed it back, plastered on a faint smile, and let him keep talking about decorations and committees and the ridiculous possibility of him choosing balloon colors.
By the time the last bell rang, Zara was restless. The hallways emptied in waves, students chattering about homework and prom dresses and Ethan Moreau’s name being called over the speakers for probably the hundredth time that day. She avoided every familiar path, slipping away to the far edge of the campus where the noise couldn’t reach her.
The field was quiet, abandoned for the day, and she dropped her backpack on the grass with a soft thud. Pulling her earbuds in, she scrolled until the familiar playlist filled her ears. She stretched for a bit and then started to run.
She could train for this marathon.
Something to take her mind off of all the chaotic happenings in her life.