"Who is Peter James anyway?" 

"Hell if I know," Kevin huffed out between a particularly challenging leg stretch. 

He had come around to the prospect of warming up after the brief pain he felt in his first track meet race, even doing it early this time around.

Michael whistled in appreciation as an athlete threw the javelin remarkably far. Hell, Kevin was just guessing it was far because there was no way he could match the throw. 

"If the track competition is anywhere as intense as these field events you're really in for a battle," Michael said.

Kevin frowned. Intense wasn't quite the word he would use for the field events they watched. He couldn't imagine they felt the same exhilaration a runner felt as they pumped their arms to glory.

"If you say so."

Kevin felt Michael's eyes on him. "That wasn't the response I expected. Are you nervous?"

Kevin pondered it for a second, risking a glance at the packed stands before meeting Michael's gaze. "Honestly...a little bit."

"Good, champions perform best under pressure. And you, Kevin Matthews, are a champion. The world just doesn't know it yet."

Kevin sighed. After his first major loss in a year, he certainly didn't feel like one, but that would change.

Today.

"Is that Robert Maddison guy here?" 

"Uh-huh. I saw his name on the sheet." Kevin replied, referring to a sheet of qualified participants Coach Ryan had shown him. Next to the names were their best times so far this season and he had to admit they were all damn fast; though, it was pretty funny to see Braylon in the lower half in 100-meter times.

Speaking of the devil, Braylon walked past the pair, shooting them a not-so-subtle glare. 

He was without his posse today, thanks to the unqualified athletes becoming one with the spectators today rather than being granted access to the athlete's area under the stands. Michael had only gotten in because he wore his Eastwood track outfit and well, looked like Michael. Nevertheless, Braylon had found back his voice a bit after witnessing Kevin lose to Maddison. The whole school's attitude toward Kevin had shifted slightly, in fact. 

It had become apparent to them that he wasn't unbeatable, that his losing at regionals was a very real possibility. The myth of their new golden boy had been shattered as easily as a glass sculpture and although they still treated him with reverence, it was nothing compared to before.

"I can't wait to see him come last," Michael commented with disgust evident in his voice when he was out of earshot, "he's been so focused on hating on you that I bet he will."

Kevin doubted that. He had noticed Braylon spent less time goofing off in practice and more time actually training hard. It was as if Kevin had lit a small fire under him.

A man with a notebook and a bored expression approached the pair. "Kevin Matthews, correct?" He asked, looking at Michael.

Michael smiled. "Nope! The young superstar is to my left."

The man's eyes flicked to Kevin and he paused before clearing his throat and continuing, "Right, Kevin Matthews, your 200-meter race is scheduled to commence in five minutes. Please prepare yourself accordingly. An attendant will come to escort you to the starting blocks when it's time."

Kevin's brow furrowed. "The male races are before the females?"

"Indeed," the man droned in response.

Kevin and Michael exchanged a glance. That was new.

"Okay, thank you."

Kevin started jogging around as the man left to inform others, Michael joining in and yapping nonstop about his being one with the wind mumbo-jumbo.

In typical Kevin fashion, he had set up camp as far away from the other athletes as possible, which was actually a pretty reasonable distance considering the massiveness of the designated athlete area; thus, he failed to notice two brown eyes observing him from the distance.

In what felt like mere seconds, Kevin found himself on the starter's line. A much more experienced-sounding commentator than back home introduced the participants. Although Kevin was relatively unknown in the world of Wisconsin athletics, he got one of the bigger responses from the crowd. 

He guessed they had seen his times. He wasn't exactly sure how to react to the applause, especially from such a large crowd, and decided on a rather stiff wave that made Darius chuckle from next to him.

Strangely, the familiarity of Darius being just one lane over helped to calm his nerves. It was just another race, despite the crowd, no sense overthinking it because the goal was no different than the usual.

Win.

Maddison wasn't in the 200 meters and although there were a few times that surpassed Darius' on the sheet, none had beat his best time, though some had come pretty close.

"On your mark!"

Kevin obeyed, shaking out the stiffness that threatened to make him a nervous wreck as he settled into his position and became one with the track once more.

Just another race.

Thump. Thump

"Get set!"

Somehow the hushed silence from the crowd was even louder than their cheering had been a second ago, the eeriness of so many eyes staring at him without even a rustle of fabric causing him to feel like some circus act.

He cursed himself internally, locking eyes on the finish line. That was the only thing that mattered right now.

Just another race.

The whole world slowed momentarily as he shot out of the blocks immediately after the starter's pistol went off. It was as if his soul had caught the rhythm of the starter like a ballet dancer, helping him to react almost superhumanly to the gun.

Kevin almost stumbled as he took in the unfamiliar scene of starting a race in front. He had actually had a good start!

He curbed his elation, refocusing on his lined target as he found his stride and threw himself around the corner like a drifting car.

Win.

90 meters left.

No sight of any intruders on his plight for gold.

60 meters left. 

He didn't risk looking again, finding his second kick and pushing himself as if he was in last place rather than first.

30 meters left. 

The other lanes had disappeared. The crowd had disappeared. All that remained was that beautiful finishing line, beckoning him forward.

He dipped his head as he passed the line, so intent was he on passing it that he didn't realize he was in no danger at all of being overtaken.

He sucked in a deep breath and placed his hands on his knees as the fatigue started to burn his legs like spilt coffee, but it didn't alter the smile he wore as he surveyed the result behind him. As if he was previously in a trance, his senses slowly came back to him. 

The overwhelming roar of the large crowd, the smell of his perspiration and minty breath, the burn in his eyes as salty sweat found its way into them but most important of all, through his blinking eyes it was clear he had won by a significant margin.

Darius came 4th, almost coming back to claim a medal himself at the end. He and Kevin shared their customary nod of respect when their eyes met. Kevin embraced the crowd, waving with any sign of stiffness gone.

Kevin remembered Michael's words.

Was this now the first step in letting the world know?

The rest of the participants congratulated him, more than a few wearing smiles that didn't match their eyes filled with regret and disappointment. He had been on the other side of those eyes just a few weeks ago, part of him pitied them while another part smiled at them learning their place.

Coach Ryan walked up all business-like and shook his hand, a small but earnest grin decorating his face. "One down."

After one last glance at the crowd, Kevin walked back to the athletes' area where he received more congratulations from fellow athletes and finally, Michael himself who gave him a big hug.

As he soaked in it all he noticed familiar curls of golden red hair. 

Willow.

He gulped and approached her, his confidence through the roof after his reception; but that all came tumbling down when he saw the look on her face.

It was the same slight frown she had worn after his race at the first track meet. His annoyance started to grow like a rising tide; why wasn't she impressed? He had won an invitation-only race for Pete's sake. 

How could she not be drooling all over him right now?

He cleared his throat as he reached her. "Something the matter?" He asked, trying to keep his annoyance from seeping into his tone.

As her hazel eyes settled on him, any annoyance or anger he had felt dispersed as if a switch had been clicked. They were so angelic and soft, as if belonging to an innocent kitten despite how they slightly scrunched up now as she frowned. Somehow the way her eyes animated her expressions added to the beauty of it all.

"You run completely wrong." She said sharply, breaking him out of his daze.

What?