Jumping Fences

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

This voice is always in the back of my head.

Faster.

I can always be.

Faster.

The starter gun rings in my ear.

My legs shoot from under me like jets propelling me forward.

There's a drowning noise surrounding me, but I can only focus on that familiar voice in my head.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

I can always be.

My arms sway quickly. To and fro, to and fro. Holding the rhythm like a pendulum, my breath in sync, a metronome.

Inhale. Faster.

Exhale. Faster.

Inhale. Faster.

Exhale. Faster.

I can see the finish line.

“We’re all running from something.”

My grandpa’s infamous last words remain in my head whenever I run.

- - -

I slammed my locker shut after undressing and changing back into my school uniform. I never showered at school.

“Hey, where you headed?” Dante asked.

Dante, along with myself, was one the captains of the track team. He always wanted to know what was happening next, what the move was.

“I’m just going home. Shower, then probably just chill.”

“You want to hit the arcade? Few of us are going to 4Square to play some games and have some pizza.”

I never go out after practices, I don’t know what would make them think today was any different.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks. I’m just gonna head home.”

Dante sighed in disappointment, but he expected it.

“Alright,” he surrendered, “if you change your mind you know where we’ll be.”

- - -

The walk home is usually a quick one. I don’t stay too far from my high school. A curse and a blessing.

It’s easy getting home, I’m rarely ever late, but I couldn’t skip school if I tried. There are limits to being too close to anything.

Walking home I replay the race in my mind. A highlight reel of actions and thoughts.

Sometimes I come off the block too late. Today was one of those days. It might’ve been from being so nervous. My anxiety tends to show up whenever I’m about to do something I enjoy. It’s weird, almost self sabotaging.

“... isaiah... Isaiah... ISAIAH!!!”

I turn around to hear my name being yelled out over my music. It’s Amber Holland, a cheerleader who’s also on the track team with us.

“Hey, Amber. Sorry, I didn’t hear you over my music.”

“It’s okay”, she giggles “were you going to 4Square with the team today?”

“Oh, um, nah. I was just gonna head home and shower and, you know, just chill or whatever.”

“Ah. Okay. Well I knew Dante asked already, I figured I’d try and give it a shot.”

“Yea, sorry” I nervously chuckle, “not really feeling it today. Maybe another time.”

“Yea, sure thing. All we’ve got is time. I’ll see you later.”

I’m stuck in my steps as I watch Amber run back to her friends before I turn around and finish my walk home.