Thirteen

Do We Actually Have to Run?

Quinn's POV

Andrew Summers and I had agreed on the most unconventional time and place ever for our running date: seven o'clock AM at the local park. I'd thought our run would be a casual jog while we flirted with each other instead of really exercising, but he had insisted on early in the morning so that we didn't sweat too much in the August heat and on meeting in the park because they evidently had the best running trails--both of which meant we would be running heavily and quickly.

We clearly had very different ideas on how this whole dating thing was going to work.

Still, because it was Andrew Summers and because I had gotten on the treadmill a few times to try to get into shape, I woke up at six thirty just like I'd planned. I had set out cute red running shorts and a white Nike t-shirt the night before, and I slid them both on while lamenting that it was still practically dark outside. I'd be lucky if I didn't run into a tree out on the trail.

Across the hall from me, Vanessa was fast asleep, and I resisted the urge to cruelly wake her up by screaming that her hair was on fire before hurrying down the stairs and into the dimly lit kitchen for a quick breakfast. I didn't want to eat too much in case I actually did run, but at the same time I couldn't pass up a meal altogether.

My phone buzzed while I was halfway through a blueberry muffin with a text from Andrew, causing me to nearly choke.

7 AM still good? I read, the screen still way too bright against my sleepy eyes. I hurried to turn the brightness down in my settings and then texted back a yes before finishing my breakfast. I'd definitely have to get to Old Winston Road Park early in order to warm up properly--I wasn't going to let Andrew see that I really never ran at all.

At 6:45, I was standing at the beginning of the trail, jogging in place in my brand-new Adidas tennis shoes. I'd only just taken them out of the box, as I had literally never even worn them before, and was just thinking about how I should have worn them at least once before now to break them in when an adorable-sounding voice said, "Hey Quinn."

I whirled around, my ponytail slapping my cheek, and saw Andrew Summers walking towards me in running attire, looking endearingly sleepy. When he smiled he looked tired, and he even had a pillow crease alongside his left cheek. I mentally crossed my fingers that he'd be so tired he'd agree on a walk.

"Hey," I said, yawning. I tightened my ponytail as he closed the distance between us, my heart hammering. True, I hadn't expected for our first date to be on a woodland trail, but I had been dreaming about this for about a year. And now that it was finally happening, I couldn't even be my normal peppy self.

"You tired?" He had brought a giant bottle of water, which he was holding in one hand, and that made me wish I'd thought to bring some. Maybe he'd let me borrow his--that would be sort of romantic. Sharing drinks with anyone else was considered swapping spit, but with Andrew Summers it would just be sweet.

I yawned again, my mind still fuzzy. "Yeah," I said. "How about we just walk?"

"Come on, Ramirez." Andrew nudged me goodnaturedly, but I was so tired that his gentle push nearly sent me over to the other side of the trail. "What better way to wake up than by running through the woods with the birds chirping at seven in the morning?"

I almost laughed at his joke, but then I realized he was actually being serious.

"Are you sure?" I asked, smoothing down my shirt. I'd picked it because it was designed to absorb sweat, but I'd thought I'd be sweating from nerves and not from exercise. "You look really tired. I'm fine with just walking."

But Andrew had already taken off down the trail, whooping happily as his running shoes pounded on the muddy path and he disappeared around a bend, completely obscured by trees. Taking a deep breath, I counted to five to calm myself and then took off after him.

He must have slowed down, because it didn't take me very long to catch up with him, and soon we were running alongside each other. My breathing was coming in labored pants and I already had a stitch in my side, which made conversation completely out of the question. Running and not saying a word to each other seemed like a weird first date to me, but I figured I'd have a coughing attack if I opened my mouth, so I refrained.

We ran for a solid five minutes which felt more like an hour before my lungs were burning so much I thought I'd drop dead if I took another step. Wheezing, I leaned against a tree and forced myself not to collapse onto the dirt ground. It had rained last night, and I wasn't keen on getting my cute running shorts gross-looking.

It took Andrew a second to realize that I'd stopped running, and another few seconds for him to come to a complete stop and make his way back over to me. Sweat was dripping down my face and remnants of my once-perky ponytail were plastered onto my forehead; I definitely did not look glamorous.

"Are you okay?" he asked concernedly, stooping down to glance at me. I accidentally coughed in his face as my breathing caught in my throat.

"Fine," I squeaked. "Sorry."

He watched me for a few more seconds and then handed me his water bottle; I was too grateful to think of the gesture as romantic as I took enormous gulps of the cool liquid. The water was too cold as it slid down into my stomach and I doubled over, coughing uncontrollably.

"Whoa, Quinn." He patted my back unhelpfully for a few seconds until I'd recovered; then I handed him back his water bottle and he took a sip before capping it. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine," I said again, though I sounded less sure this time. Finally, I couldn't really stand anymore and I slid to the ground until I was leaning against the tree trunk, thoroughly saturating my shorts. He sat down beside me, sweat making his shirt cling to his torso.

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes, but he offered me his water bottle again and I promptly drank most of the liquid inside, until I felt well enough to at least say something.

"Sorry," I said again, leaning my head back against the tree so that I was looking at the sky.

He drank the last few drops of water from the bottle and then aimed it at a trash can that was conveniently stationed along the trail. The bottle landed right inside the rim--of course. Andrew Summers was good at everything, even throwing water bottles into far away trash cans while sitting next to unathletic girls who had pretended they knew how to run in order to score a date with him.

When phrased that way, I suddenly sounded really stupid. Taking a deep breath and thankfully not choking again, I said, "I guess now you know I can't really run."

"What?" he asked, startled. He glanced over at me and I saw that his ice-blue eyes were trained carefully on my own darker ones. My heart began to beat faster in a way that was definitely not caused by the exercise.

Struggling to form words, I said slowly, "I'm sorry I lied about running. I sort of hate it, actually. I just really wanted to spend time with you and I wanted to impress you." I bit down on my lip, exhaling loudly. There was no way Andrew would ever look at me again after this. I expected him to stand up and walk away angrily before kicking me out of his running club and blocking my number from his phone. No more smiles in the hallways. No more love letters. Just me and my forever alone self, all over again.

But he surprised me and actually started laughing. From anyone else, it would have sounded rude, like he was making fun of me--except instead he was smiling at me so kindly that I knew he wasn't trying to thoroughly humiliate me any more than I already was. "It's okay, Quinn," he said, plucking a flower from the side of the path and twirling it between his fingers. "I'm sorry you thought you had to like running to impress me. I would have been more than happy doing anything else with you. It's just, I thought you liked running, and I thought it would be an excuse to get to know you better."

I managed a smile. "Well now you do, in fact, know me better. You know that I am very greedy with water, I have no qualms about coughing in people's faces, and I will lie in order to get what I want."

"I'm a tough guy," he said, smiling back. "I think I can handle that."

"You sure you can go without your water? I'll drink it all next time you force me into a run."

"So there will be a next time?" he asked, flashing dimples.

Those two perfect dimples and the way his eyes crinkled were what made me first fall for him, and looking at them again while knowing that they were directed at me made me want to embrace this entire bug-ridden, mud-filled forest, dirt and all. "If you want there to be a next time, there will be," I said back.

Still grinning, he stood, brushing off his basketball shorts and holding out a hand to help me up. "If you've recovered sufficiently, Ramirez," he said, "I think we have to continue our run."

"Run?" I asked, already feeling out of breath at the very idea of trying to conquer the hilly path once more. Images of falling flat onto my face flashed through my mind--and I doubted Andrew would be as forgiving of a nosebleed as he was of a coughing attack.

His brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, did I say run? I meant romantic stroll in the sunrise."

"Very funny." Rolling my eyes, I let his warm hand take my slick one as he helped me back up to my feet. He kept my fingers firmly enveloped in his as he kept walking down the path, his stride relaxed as I kept his pace. This was a hundred times better than tearing through branches that stung my cheeks as I struggled to keep up with him and prove that I was a girl worthy of a date with him.

"So, Ramirez, if you don't like running, what do you like to do?" Andrew asked as he handed me the flower he'd been twirling between his fingers.

I took it and held it up to my nose, but it smelled more like wet dirt to me than anything so I smiled politely while keeping it well out of range of my scent. "I like bicycling," I said. "That's honestly about the only sport I do."

"A bicyclist!" His smile was broad, as if he had been the first to discover something genius. "We can go bicycling together! I am a proud owner of a BMX trick bike, believe it or not."

"You own a trick bike?" I asked, my voice teasing.

He placed the hand that wasn't holding mine over his heart. "I know, it is very uncharacteristic. But I do. And I bet my trick bike could outrace your bike any day."

"Challenge accepted."

He laughed and squeezed my hand tighter. I was just glad we'd found something we had in common. Andrew Summers was undeniably attractive, brilliant, and sweet, but if we had nothing to bond over there was no way we could work. Now, though, our possibilities were endless. Even though my average bike could probably never beat his souped up trick bike, at least I'd be able to put up a fight, unlike my nonexistent running skills. And maybe he'd even let me ride his BMX--I had always wanted to give one a try.

"Why can't your fundraiser be a biking race instead of a 5k?" I asked, fake-pouting as I turned to him. "Then I could participate and I could whip everyone into shape."

"Quinn Ramirez, winner of the bicycling race that made history." Andrew extended his hand in front of him as if painting a picture. "I can see the writing on the wall now. You win the race and a nice, shiny golden trophy..." He squinted his eyes. "You get a congratulatory hug from the creator of the race..."

"That would be you, I suppose?" I asked, giggling.

He reached over unexpectedly and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Here's your celebration hug early, Winner."

His arms were so warm and I could feel his breath on my neck, and I didn't even care that we were both sweaty in that moment, because it was perfect. When he pulled away and happily took my hand again, swinging it back and forth as we walked, I asked, "So when do I get to whoop your butt in bike riding?"

"So confident," he said, smirking. "I bet you won't be so sure of yourself a few minutes into the race when I've left you in the dust. Though we could give it a whirl now. I biked here."

"So did I!" We had reached the beginning of the shortest path that the park offered, a circular loop around a small fragment of the nature trails. I could see my aqua blue bike locked into the rack by the parking space as I jogged over to it and unstrapped my helmet from the handlebars. Beside me, Andrew had mounted a sleek black bike and was pretending to rev up an imaginary engine.

"First one back to this point, going on the short path?" I asked, standing on my bike. This was something I could do; something I was good at. Even if I did lose, at least I wouldn't be ten minutes behind like I would have been if we'd been running.

Not even bothering to respond, Andrew immediately took off, pedaling vigorously in the direction of the path.

"You cheater!" I screamed at his figure, growing steadily smaller in the distance, as I immediately hunched over my handlebars and began biking after him.

My calves started burning about two minutes into the race, when I was climbing a steep uphill path while struggling to keep my bike in a straight line on the rocky terrain. I could see Andrew in the distance, his neon orange shirt like a beacon as he worked to keep his lead. The harder I forced myself to pedal, the larger his shape got, until I was soon only a foot or two behind him.

"Watch out, Summers," I chirped as my front tire became even with his back tire. "My ordinary bike is about to beat your fancy one."

He didn't reply, just glanced over his shoulder to give me a goodnatured glare--and when he turned around saw he was heading right for a tree.

As he applied the brakes to try and right himself, I skirted around him and kept pedaling, now on an easy downhill stretch as I let my lead start to gain. It was only a few more minutes before our makeshift finish line was in sight, but Andrew was right behind me--he had been gaining on me steadily, as his bike was made for racing and mine was not.

I crossed the entrance to the trail less than a second ahead of him, swerving to avoid a complacent-looking family of four as they took their dog out for an early morning walk. The toddler screamed as I yanked on my handlebars at the same time I applied my brakes, causing Andrew's bike to run right into mine.

We both yelped as we toppled over into a mess of tires and legs and handlebars, but I couldn't help but giggle hysterically.

"Quinn," he said as we righted ourselves, both of us still laughing, "I think you might be even clumsier than me."

This time, I was the one to take his hand and help pull him up. "That is a very likely possibility, Andrew."

The family stared at us with wide eyes as they circled around us necessarily to get back onto the path, clearly afraid that we would somehow hit them again with our bikes which were currently tangled in the dirt. I stooped down to pick up my bike and then propped it up against a tree, pulling off my helmet.

"I stand corrected," Andrew said, panting as he wiped sweat off of his forehead with his t-shirt. "You are a force to be reckoned with while biking."

"Does that surprise you?" I asked.

"No. You're a force to be reckoned with for anything--except maybe running."

I smiled. "Does this mean I get a second date?"

And then, to my excitement, Andrew Summers reached over to hug me again, saying softly in my ear, "Naturally."

And that was how I became Andrew Summers's girlfriend.

A/N: Ships? (I'm going to be asking this a lot, because to be honest my author-ly ships have also been changing too quickly for me to keep up with them) :)