Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
He wasn’t going to do the one thing required of him. As usual, I couldn’t fucking depend on anyone else. If I wanted to win this thing, well, I had to do it myself.
My feet were slippery on the wooden steps as I bolted up them, and I clutched the baton so tightly it made my hand ache, but I wasn’t about to let it slip from my grasp. When I reached the top of the platform, I saw just how far of a head start Colin had on me, and I clenched my jaw. He was nearly across, walking slowly with his arms extended out from his sides.
The tide could turn if he fell.
Years of practice had taught me how important it was that your hips and shoulders stayed centered over the beam. If you got misaligned and didn’t fix it quickly—or if you went too far outside the cone of stability—you were doomed.
Colin’s shoulders abruptly wobbled, and he stopped moving.
Had I wanted it so badly, I’d willed it into existence? It was comical the way his arms flailed as he listed dangerously to one side. He tried to correct how off center he’d become, but he overcompensated and pitched his hips the opposite direction, sealing his fate.
“Shit, no,” he groaned as he bailed off the plank, landing on his feet in the mud below with a satisfying splat.
I sprinted across my beam, going as fast as my slick shoes would allow without jeopardizing my balance. Meanwhile, he turned and darted back toward the platform’s stairs, running so fast he slung mud everywhere, kicking up a rooster’s tail behind him.
Even though it was risky, I couldn’t help how my gaze found his for a nanosecond. I wordlessly told him that his team had cheated, and it still wouldn’t matter.
Because I was going to win.
Blood rushed loudly in my ears as I reached the platform on the other side, ran down the steps, and made the turn. My adrenaline surged, propelling me forward to the finish line off in the distance. I could see people jumping up and down and hear the ecstatic screams of my sisters as I dashed toward them.
The mud, though.
It was thick as cement, and every step I took, it felt like it was hugging me, trying to trap me in place. My ankles protested as I fought against its vicious grip. Was I running in clay?
I was halfway to the white ribbon stretched across the finish line when the mud refused to release my shoe, yanking it completely off. I stumbled, but managed not to go down, and kept on pushing.
You have to win. Just a few more steps.
My sock came off next, and I grimaced as the cold, wet mud squished through my toes. I was tender footed, and prayed I didn’t step on anything too painful, forcing my legs to keep churning. I wasn’t tall and didn’t have a long stride, so I had to make up for it by moving my feet as fast as I could.
Forty yards out, I was sure I was going to win. The rest of the Lambdas were clapping with joy, hugging each other. I pumped my arms, trying to carry myself through the finish.
But the last twenty yards, something changed. I heard the slog of fast footsteps behind me, and saw the excitement freeze on my sisters’ expressions. It was replaced with dread, and their focus shifted to the boy behind me, the one who’d somehow conquered the beam on his second attempt and was now threatening to outrun me.
“No,” I gasped as he pulled alongside and began to inch ahead.
The muscles in my legs burned. My lungs ached. But no matter how hard I dug inside myself for those last five yards . . . it wasn’t enough. Colin was too tall, too fast, too good.
He vaulted across the line a fraction of a second before me, and the white ribbon stretched across his chest before breaking.
We hadn’t finished slowing down before we were swallowed by the crowd. The Sigs body slammed their boy in victory as the Lambdas circled around me, perhaps acting as a shield of protection while I bent forward, put my hands on my knees, and hung my head, struggling to catch my breath.
There was a roar of voices around me, but I couldn’t hear them. All I could focus on was how they’d cheated. Riley had illegally touched our baton and thrown it aside, costing us valuable seconds. If he hadn’t, I would have beaten Colin to the finish with several seconds to spare.
Their victory was stolen from us, and I was going to get it back.
“They,” I panted, “cheated.”
Only Jenn seemed to hear me. “What?”
I sucked in a breath, straightened, and fixed a glare on the guys huddled around Colin. “The Sigs cheated.”