“What? Cut that shit out,” Torres demands. His voice is gruff. Angry, just like mine. I drop my head, open my eyes, and realize he’s frowning at me. “This is what people like Melanie do, Lakes. They are intimidated by your talent. They know you’re good, and they want to dull your shine.” He leans in closer, and I can smell mint on his breath. “Do not let these privileged people steal your fucking shine. That shine is yours. You worked on it every single day to get here. They have no right to take that from you.”
We hold each other’s gazes for a long time. I can’t even pull away. His words are like ammunition, and no lie, they make my heart beat twice as fast.
“I thought you said I could always be better,” I murmur.
“You can. Everyone can. But you have a gift. You are good and you know it. I know it. I just want to bring out the very best in you.” He leans back, still holding my eyes. “You’re holding back when you practice because you don’t want anyone to get offended, or maybe you just don’t want to stand out on the team. You want to blend in with them. Feel like a regular runner.” He huffs a laugh. “But that’s kinda hard to do when you’re the only black girl on the team. Forget trying to fit in. Why not stand out and be great?”
I snatch my gaze away.
“Forget their feelings, Lakes. Remember why you came here—why you got this scholarship in the first place. No one cares if their feelings are hurt because they can’t keep up. Their only choice will be to improve while you are around.”
Wow. All that barking and taunting Torres would do during practice, and I hear this? From a man who always calls me out as we work out and practice.
No wonder he was shaking his head at me when I finished. He knew. He knew that even though I was winning the practice races, I was holding back for my teammates. He knew I was limiting myself. I wanted them to be able to catch up. I wanted them to like me.
“Let me go grab a golf cart so I can drive you to the conditioning room,” Torres says, standing tall. “I’ll call Veronika. She should be on campus soon. Keep that ice on your ankle until I get back.”
He jogs away without looking back, and when he turns the corner to get to the tunnel for the lockers, I release a breath. I look up at the golden sunrise that’s now a half-circle behind the stadium wall ahead.
“I don’t like it here, Daddy,” I whisper, my throat thick with emotion.
I don’t know what I expect after that statement. I want to feel his arms around me, cry into his chest like I used to when I was feeling down or uncomfortable. I want him to tell me that it will all be okay, and that the team will soon learn to appreciate my skills once the season starts.
But he’s not here, and he hasn’t been here for six years. Six years, I haven’t heard his voice. Six years I haven’t felt his forehead kisses and haven’t been wrapped up in his bear hugs. Six years seem so small—so insignificant as far as time goes—but to me it feels like it has been a lifetime.
I notice a golf cart coming out of the tunnel and Torres is on it, his hair rustling with the wind. My heart skips a beat. Torres is coming to my rescue and I never thought I’d see the day.
I may not have Daddy anymore, but at least Torres is pretty good at pep talks. Even though he knows I can do better, he believes in me, and all it takes is that one coach to believe in you—to give you the chance you deserve and to have your back at all times.
It was my father at one point.
Now…it seems to be Joaquin Torres.
TWELVE
I can come across as rude and uptight to many people. Trust me, I know that. But there’s a reason I am the way I am. I wasn’t always like this, but the world has a way of turning a once innocent boy into a hardened, angry man overnight.
When I saw Melanie swing her leg over to trip Amber, I stopped running. My heart dropped. Amber rolled and ducked and fortunately got out of the way so she wouldn’t get stampeded by the other runners, but I saw the shock on her face. The pain in her eyes.
I looked at Melanie, who was staring at Amber, almost smirking and I almost lost my shit. Almost. I don’t even know how I kept my shit together. Perhaps seeing Amber in pain and tending to that overpowered my need to flip the fuck out.