It was refreshing for Kevin to have another presence in the house with him. His mother transformed the house, which had served as a suffocating, bleak box, into a colorful oasis filled with sweet, ambrosial treats. 

As an athlete, he was certainly consuming too many of the treats his mother experimented on, but he could honestly care less at the moment if the cheat days stacked up as long as her sober, healthy days did as well. 

He had taken the nurse's advice to sign her out of the recovery center and the color had slowly returned to her features. Still, with full access to the world, Kevin felt like a ticking bomb was constantly over her. She even seemed to sense his nervousness herself and promised that there would be no repeats.

She seemed intent on exactly that too; she had picked up a new suppressed hobby of cooking, and even attended cooking classes - hence her new job as Kevin's cheat day distributor and encourager.  He figured this distraction was much better than being holed up in a center reeking of failure. 

She even made hints at applying for jobs as the chef of a restaurant, but Kevin thought that would be much too stressful a job, though he didn't voice his concerns.

"Will Willow be at this Invitational?"

Speaking of stressful. 

"Yes, Mom, but that shouldn't be my main focus."

After meeting Willow, his mother had been set on giving him advice and mentoring him at every turn with her. While Michael had been experienced with casual flings and so his method of advice was direct and...lustful, Kevin's mother was more focused on making sure he ticked all of the right boxes of being a gentleman.

Of course, he figured her advice was much more important, but it also put pressure on him to complete the tasks she set out for him, such as making texting her casually a habit. That's how he knew she'd be attending the Rockers Invitational.

However, he was truly determined not to make her the main focus of the day. He was also intent on not letting his ego win the day, either. He hadn't done a competitive race in two weeks, not because of a lack of a schedule, but because of his facing reality. 

He'd done a lot of reflection on Willow's comments and how he felt during a race, versus how he felt during practice before the season had started. He still didn't think he was some great big egomaniac, but perhaps there was some truth in ego playing a role when he faced a challenge in a race.

He had felt like the first step in suppressing his ego was admitting he might not be physically at his best. His knee hurting during races and practice was becoming too consistent to not be a warning that shouldn't be ignored. When he told Coach Ryan, he readily agreed to cancel his participation in upcoming meets and set his return for the next invitational two weeks away - and the day had come. 

The day that was supposed to introduce a new and improved Kevin to the athletic world.

He'd still trained during the weeks of course, but he focused on finding back that appreciative spark whenever he ran on the track.

"Remember what I said," his mother called right before he walked out the door. "Show consistent interest in her. You should know how important consistency is as an athlete, well, it's just as important in a relationship."

Kevin refrained from pointing out that Willow and he were not in a romantic relationship. Frankly, he didn't know what they were - just friends, maybe. "You've told me that enough times that it's ingrained in my brain by now, Mom."

"Good!" his mother said with a huff of pride. "And good luck in your big return. I'll be in the stands cheering on my star boy, finally."

Kevin grinned. He imagined her eyes would be the most nerve-wracking of any of the crowds he'd braved thus far this season, but he was more than looking forward to it. "You better not blink in my race," he said, then immediately regretted his choice of words. That was the infamous ego talking.

"I'll be locked in...as you young people say," Kevin's mother replied with a wide smile.

The drive to school was quiet and Kevin spent a lot of time avoiding the what-ifs that tried to penetrate his mind.

What if he was slower after his break? What if he couldn't overcome his ego within the lined battlefield and this was all for naught? What if Willow saw this and gave up on him?

What if he lost?

What if he got injured again?

It was hard to drown out the taste of these questions no matter how much he turnt up his music.

The somber process of school combined with the ecentric personality of Michael did manage to silence his lurking concerns for a few hours though, which Kevin found surprising. All too quickly, school was over and it was time for the athletes and spectators to pile into the buses provided. 

Kevin found it appalling that he now wished school had gone on for longer after years of thinking it was far too long. It led him to face a slightly terrifying realization on his walk to the athlete's bus.

This was the first time he wasn't wrapped in a cocoon of impenetrable confidence. Was he still the Kevin Matthews the school had come to known without this cocoon?

He felt much more aware of his surroundings as he boarded the bus and found a window seat in one of the middle rows, which is why he felt Braylon's eyes latch onto him long before he addressed him.

"Well, well. If it isn't the prodigal son returning to grace us mortals after his absence," Braylon said, which Kevin found remarkably ironic considering the boy intentionally had done the same when he was crowned the fastest. However, it seemed that had changed since his crown was taken; Braylon now attended every meet and seemed hell bent on pushing himself as hard as possible.

Kevin hadn't intended to make Braylon a more dedicated athlete, but that certainly seemed like a consequence of his success.

Kevin didn't bother with a verbal response as usual, instead meeting the boy's eyes evenly.

"Today is the day I will take back that spot you stole from me. Luck can only last so long."

Kevin chuckled - he couldn't help his reaction at the ridiculousness coming out of Braylon's mouth. Braylon's face soured and he opened his mouth - likely to spew more nonsense - but was interrupted by an unexpected figure. 

Darius brushed past him forcefully, making it clear that it was an intentional action and sat down next to Kevin. Braylon advanced on their row slowly, his fists folded. "Your time has been coming for a while now."

"That's quite enough, Braylon," Coach Ryan interjected with a stern edge to his voice. "Continue down to your seat and keep the action for when the starter's pistol goes off. I would've assumed this late in the season that wouldn't need to be voiced."

Braylon grumbled something under his breath and shot both Kevin and Darius a glare as he shuffled past. It didn't take long for muttering to arise from the other athletes.

There goes team chemistry, Kevin thought to himself. He turned to Darius. "You didn't need to do that, his words don't bother me."

Darius shrugged. "I figured, but I wanted to do it anyway. For myself. He's been put in his place on the track, but it's high time he gets put in it off of it as well."

Kevin couldn't help but agree.

Before Darius could raise his headphones to his ears, Kevin surprised himself by speaking. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Do you get nervous before invitationals like these?"

Darius didn't even have to think before answering. "Every time. I assume no human doesn't, unless they don't care."

"Or unless they're an egomaniac," Kevin added, thinking back to the past where his excitement consistently diminished any nerves.

"I don't think so. I think someone with a big ego may be able to delude themselves with grandeur to pretend the nerves aren't there, but it doesn't quite disappear. Probably isn't the most healthy way to conquer nerves, mind you, but I'm no psychologist."

Kevin smiled. "The way you talk, I wouldn't be surprised if you became one or something."

Darius returned his smile. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Kevin considered the boy's words as the bus travelled to their destination. Had Kevin only been ignoring his nerves before? He agreed with Darius that it didn't exactly sound healthy; conquering something wasn't done by acting like it didn't exist, after all. He put on his headphones and played his music, but it didn't transport him like before; his worries still weighed heavily on his mind.

It didn't help that the stadium was one of the largest in the region, and with the number of invitationals winding down, the track and field supports were out with favourites in mind. The bus containing the Eastwood High students emerged as the athletes were piling out of their own bus.

Michael found his way over to Kevin. "You okay, buddy? You look a bit sick."

"I'm nervous," Kevin said, deciding that being truthful was the humble, transparent approach. 

"For what?"

"I guess...that the break didn't work and I'm not fast enough...or in control enough," Kevin admitted. He didn't expect someone who achieved things so effortlessly to understand truly.

"Good! Now go out there and prove you are in fact fast enough and in control. I don't understand exactly what you mean by in control, but maybe if you think of it as a secondary objective, like on those games we used to play on my PlayStation with all the quests, you'll remember to stay in control."

Kevin laughed at the idea of imagining a square interface taking up his vision, and his current quests taking up a good portion of the interface. "That may not be such a bad idea."

Michael beamed. "Right? I'm full of good ideas - if you ever want to borrow one, just ask."

"Duly noted."

Coach Ryan and Coach Maynard started to organize the track team in the parking lot. Michael suddenly adopted an odd expression. "I got to-uh..do something."

Kevin watched him attempt to subtly approach Shalissa, though subtly was not something Michael was very capable of, especially with the popularity that Shalissa commanded. All of her pigeon friends saw Michael call her and Shalissa quickly dart out of the line to talk to him.

During the two weeks that Kevin had used as rest, Michael had started pursuing Shalissa. Usually, there wasn't much of a pursuit where Michael was involved, but Shalissa was one of, if not the most popular female and Michael's physique and brains didn't seem to make her immediately swoon over him. Still, they had clearly built some form of relationship, which felt a bit surreal to Kevin.

"Ready for today?" a voice asked, penetrating his thoughts. Kevin turned to see Coach Ryan looking down at him.

"Hopefully."

"Can't say I expected such a response," Coach Ryan said with a chuckle.

Kevin shrugged. "Humility isn't much fun."

Coach Ryan gave him a pat on the shoulder. Kevin had told him all about Willow's theory that his ego was controlling him during races and Coach Ryan had allowed Kevin the freedom to try to conquer this obstacle, which was much appreciated by Kevin.

"But winning will be," Coach Ryan responded.

"Hopefully," came Kevin's apparently new favorite reply. Hopefully humility doesn't kick me in the-

Warming up while curbing his ego left him vulnerable to the sheer size and atmosphere of the crowd. Before, he was so wrapped up in his cocoon that the crowd's effect was diminished, especially when it came time for his race to be run. But now, as apprehension leaked from his pores, he felt the weight of more than a thousand eyes looking down at the infield and track. The air carried a whiff of sweat, grass and the sizzling, tangible scent of excitement that acted as a spark for Kevin's nerves.

"You look like a mess."

Kevin exited his armbar stretch to see Willow standing behind him. "I'm getting tired of hearing that already. Is there something on my face, or has my complexion magically changed to green?"

"No, but your eyes look like you're staring down the barrel of a gun. Relax a little, this isn't your first rodeo."

"It sure feels like it."

"I'll help you stretch," Willow offered, to Kevin's surprise. She commanded him to lie on his back and she extended his foot backward until he began to fear she thought he had the flexibility of Simone Biles. "Take in the feeling of the grass on your skin and the scents around you. Ignore the crowd and ground yourself in the moment. Imagine it's just me and you."

So he did exactly that. He felt every blade scratching against the skin of his legs that lacked protection from the fabric of his short pants. He took in the smell of just the grass and the breeze that carried on it a faint trail of snacks offered, most notably, popcorn. He almost went down the avenue of imagining the buttery crunch, but decided that wouldn't exactly be staying in the moment.

He felt Willow's delicate touch as her hands brushed above his shoe briefly as she switched his feet and it suddenly wasn't hard to imagine it was just the two of them in their own bubble. He dared to look into her brown orbs and imagined running a hand through those energetic curls. Kevin didn't think of himself as gifted with words, but he felt it would be a disservice not to say what was on his mind at the moment and opened his mouth to do just that.

"Now, what is this? The prodigal son fraternizing with an enemy soldier, as unfit to be king as they come."

Kevin groaned aloud in annoyance. This was a terrible time for Braylon to come spreading his idiocy disease.

"Did you come to this meet to run or run your mouth?" Kevin asked.

Braylon paused, no doubt surprised to finally get a verbal response from Kevin, but he quickly regained his smirk. "Maybe after I'm done dusting you, I'll take your lady here for a real spin."

Kevin's mind flashed with rage and he took a step forward, but not before Willow scoffed. "The lady here will take a hard pass, meatball," she said with a look of disapproval at Braylon. "Go find the circus you escaped from."

Braylon glowered at her. "We'll see what circus I'm from when I'm in between those lines."

"Whatever you say, meatball."

With one final scowl at Kevin, Braylon walked away and Willow whirled on Kevin. "What are you doing letting a baboon provoke you, hurdler? Ease down on the testosterone, he's trying to get in your head because he's scared."

"I usually ignore him," Kevin said defensively. "But then he mentioned you..."

Willow rolled her eyes. "I'm not a damsel in distress, save the knight act and focus on your process."

Kevin frowned at her annoyed tone but did start back stretching. He was aware of her walking away when he turned. Whatever.

He decided that he could figure out what he did wrong later because she was right; he had to focus on conquering his nerves.

It was an hour before his first race was called: the two-hundred-meter.

Coach Ryan give him a pat on his back with a muttered good luck and last minute advice when he passed him to go to the walk-out tunnel. Thankfully, the athletes weren't to walk out one by one while getting introduced like in the olympics, or Kevin really might've been consumed by his nerves. At some point, Shallisa even stopped by to wish him luck.

"Still feeling those nerves?" Darius, who was positioned one spot ahead in the line within the tunnel, asked in a whisper. 

"Yep."

"Good. It's all about how you respond to it when you get out there."

And he was right. As they walked out onto the track, the crowd roared their approval. The sound felt like a physical wave, slamming into the athletes below and causing mixed reactions. Some hopped or bounced lightly on their feet in response, rejuvenated by this passionate wave, while others tried their best to simply walk straight and not topple over from the intensity of it all. 

Kevin was of the latter. 

He imagined hearing his mother specifically within the thick veil of the crowd's chorus and a smile came to him unbeckoned. Introductions came and went, with Kevin only providing a slight nod to the camera as it passed, like Darius always did.

He figured he was as good an example of humility as there could be. Then came facing his nerves.

He felt a certain vulnerability as he refused to block out the crowd and instead tried to become one with the electric atmosphere. It was as if he were a surfer, staying ahead of the swell of the wave that threatened to throw both him and his board over, but he fought desperately for balance and continued to slice across the wave.

He imagined staying in control as a primary objective, instead of a secondary and almost smiled as memories of gaming with Michael briefly flashed before he shook them away. Stay in the moment.

"On your marks!"

The crowd went deathly still and the electric atmosphere quickly shifted to suffocating tension that made Kevin's pounding heart feel like the whir of a helicopter's blades. Kevin felt the familiar coarseness against his knee as he transitioned into his position. Felt the other athletes shuffling into their positions around him. The shortness of their breath as they too fought against the stifling quiet and the inscribed presence of drunk anticipation.

They were human, and this was perhaps the most nerve wracking moment of their lives, facing the ghosts of defeat and success at the very same time and daring to fight all the same. It was comforting to think he wasn't alone in this quest. After all, within these lines was the fairest chance one could hope for.

"Get set."

Kevin transitioned to his set position and didn't steal a peek at the finish line. Instead, he looked straight ahead at his lane, feeling the pulse of the track within his palms and changing the mantra that usually appeared at a time like this.

Run.