Breathe, Annie, Breathe Page 16


I glance around the cafeteria again as I pop open my Diet Coke. Good luck posters from the juniors hang everywhere. High school is over. I take a sip of my drink. The more I think about it, what I love most about the running and exercising is the control. I have complete control over me, my body, my future. Which is something I haven’t felt since he died.

And I want to keep that feeling.

I find myself barreling across the cafeteria to Kelsey and Vanessa. Their group glances around at each other when I walk up to their table. Kelsey bends her head and whispers to Colton, ignoring me. When Jack Goodwin sees me, ever the gentleman, he immediately stands to offer me his chair.

“Thank you,” I tell him. He smiles as he steals a chair from another table.

I take a deep breath and lean over to Vanessa. “I’ve been thinking about college. If you haven’t found a roommate for your suite yet, and you still want me…I’m in.”

Marathon Training Schedule~Brown’s Race Co.

Name Annie Winters

Saturday

Distance

Notes

April 20

3 miles

I’m really doing this! Finish time 34:00

April 27

5 miles

Stupid Running Backwords Boy!!

May 4

6 miles

Blister from HELL

May 11

5 miles

Ran downtown Nashville

May 18

7 miles

Tripped on rock. Fell on my butt

May 25

8 miles

Came in 5 min. quicker than usual!

June 1

10 miles

June 8

9 miles

June 15

7 miles

June 22

8 miles

June 29

9 miles

July 6

10 miles

July 13

12 miles

July 20

13 miles

July 27

15 miles

August 3

14 miles

August 10

11 miles

August 17

16 miles

August 24

20 miles

August 31

14 miles

September 7

22 miles

September 14

20 miles

September 21

The Bluegrass Half Marathon

September 28

12 miles

October 5

10 miles

October 12

Country Music Marathon in Nashville

THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE

The radio said this is the first Hundred Oaks graduation to take place indoors in twelve years. Normally students graduate out on the football field, but this year it’s in the gym because the rain hasn’t let up in four days.

Last year, we had to write a thesis paper for junior English. To determine paper topics, students pulled prompts out of a hat. I chose “Can Coca Cola save the Third World?” which was awesome. Kyle, however, chose “Did the Great Flood actually happen?” I made fun of him, but he ended up loving the assignment. He learned that some Indian tribes believed Noah didn’t build an ark; they thought an evil god was eating peanuts in heaven. The god scraped the shells out the window, they fell to earth, and mankind survived the flood by floating in the shells.

Even rain makes me think of him.

In the cafeteria, teachers line us up in alphabetical order to take our seats. Mrs. Lane just made Zack Burns put on a new graduation cap. He wrote IT’S OVER! in silver paint on top of his, but apparently that’s against school rules. The minute Mrs. Lane turns her head, Zack makes jerking-off motions to his friends. Do boys ever grow up?

The teachers lead us into the gym like we’re back in kindergarten again and a rush of humidity hits me in the face. The gym feels like a sauna. I spot Mom and Nick on the third row of the bleachers. Nick is fanning himself with a program and she’s dabbing at her eyes with Kleenex. Regardless that we aren’t the same team we once were, this is a big moment for her: both of her kids made it through high school. She never graduated because she got pregnant with my brother. Seeing her tear up makes my eyes water, and I scrunch up my face to hold myself together. I don’t want to cry. If I start, I won’t stop.

I sit in my chair and pick up my program. The cover says In loving memory of Kyle Allen Crocker. People throughout the gym are using their programs as fans, just like my brother. I peer through the audience to see if Mr. and Mrs. Crocker showed up. No sign of them. I doubt they’ll be here. If they come, the floodgates in my eyes will crumble.

I run my fingers over Kyle’s name, and a single tear falls from my eye, spotting the paper. I can’t cry. I can’t. Haven’t cried in months. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. I bite into my lower lip hard. So hard I break skin. Taste bitter blood. Think of happy times. Think, think.

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