The starter's pistol was like the key to handcuffs, releasing Kevin from his flimsy constraints and beckoning him out into the world again.

He wouldn't know it at the time, but as Coach Ryan pointed out on video the next day, he was actually the first to react to the pistol. His starting drive was low and powerful, powered by the reawakening of a crowd that now energized him, rather than being silenced by his mind.

He felt the hopes of the Eastwood High students, their love for the sport and the representatives of their school becoming one as they clung desperately to the wish of bragging rights. He felt the eyes of others more intensely than others: Shalissa, Willow, Michael, and his mother. 

It was a wonder he could even maintain his stride with the sensory overload he felt, but it felt like he was doing much more than maintaining his stride. He could feel each pump of his hands and feet catapulting him forward and realized that before, he might've relied on instinct in the beginning, while now, he was the one putting in the output.

He reached the curve in what felt like record time and gracefully glided around the bend like a gazelle, maintaining his impressive breakneck pace. The wind somehow didn't whip against his face, but seemed to settle against it instead, while propelling him forward. It wasn't the same feeling as his adoration of the wind in practice, rather, it was as if the wind had joined forces with him and sought to push him forward toward the line.

As he conquered the bend, however, it was apparent he was not alone. On his side, he saw Darius start to edge in front, which felt like nothing short of a miracle, considering Kevin felt like it took a car's engine to pass him up at the moment. Yet, here Darius was, stealing his thunder.

No. Sharing his thunder.

Kevin mentally beat back the internal voice whispering of a sweet win in his ear and focused on his stride without trying to strain himself. 

The person he thought would pose the most challenge was a heavy-set boy named McEwen who had entered great form in Kevin's absence and managed to win the meets in the two-hundred-meters, but here was Darius running what was undoubtedly the fastest he had in an official race.

Despite his efforts to quell his ego, the point of the race was to win, so Kevin eased into his reserves and gave his all to keep up with the cool and collected form of Darius. Instead of a desperation to win, Kevin felt a certain camaraderie with his schoolmate, enhanced by the transaction of their full efforts pushing the other toward the finish line. 

Kevin felt and heard the huff of another runner behind him - presumably McEwen - but he kept his focus on the approaching finishing line.

Despite the challenge of Kevin on his hip, Darius' form didn't falter - he was much too composed for that, and the burning within Kevin's chest to try to push himself to go even faster intensified, but Kevin focused on his silky smooth stride that had never felt so seamless as it did now.

With ten meters remaining, it was clear that McEwen wasn't going to overtake Kevin, but the same could be said for Kevin catching a blazing Darius. Still, he controlled the urge to practically fling his body at the finishing line and took his place in stride, dipping his head at the line and feeling satisfaction in the fact he had tried his very best.

Did his very best really. He didn't need to look at the time to know it was a new personal best. Perhaps it was the fact he had stayed in control, or taken time to rest, but not only had he ran faster than he ever had before, but there was no discomfort in his knee. Frankly, he hardly felt the stinging fatigue that accompanied the end of his races in the past, which felt rather surreal, given his performance. 

He doused the jealousy that threatened to appear as Darius turned around with a look of shock and excitement all in one. He had taken a look at the time he had run through the provided monitor. Kevin didn't bother, but he would later learn Darius had shattered the invitational two-hundred-meter record.

Kevin embraced the stunned boy in a hug. "You did it! That was the best closing run I've ever been a part of."

Darius recovered and hugged him back. "No, we did it. When you were gone, I was never able to beat that McEwen guy, but the moment you return...I do this. You're like a good luck charm or som-" Darius seemed to suddenly remember that Kevin had just lost. "I mean, you ran well too, no doubt you defeated those nerves of yours. On most days, you would've won as usual."

"Don't sugarcoat it; you were better today. Enjoy that two-hundred crown while you can because I'll be coming right back for it once we line up again, so you better stay in this form if you want a chance at a repeat."

Darius' smile widened. "Bring it on."

Kevin had to admit that taking a loss with this accepting attitude felt much better than the crushing feeling he'd endured in the past. There was a five-minute intermission between each race and Kevin sought out Willow before she could be ushered away.

He found her on the infield waiting for him.

"Quite a run, hurdler," she said, in what felt like the biggest understatement Kevin had heard. 

"You were right. About everything. I was running the wrong way. It felt like the crowd...and the wind and all of the other races helped to boost me forward somehow."

Willow raised an eyebrow. "You lost me there, but you certainly didn't look like some constipated tryhard in that race. A pity that you lost, that Darius guy ran like a man possessed."

"He's awesome." Willow looked stunned by his choice of words. "What? You expected me to be a moping mess? It isn't the end of the world, track season still has some laps left," he recalled the words his mother had used, "it's a marathon."

"Either I'm the greatest teacher on planet earth or you're the weirdest human ever." Willow shrugged before adding, "I guess both can be true."

"Easy, Yoda. I've had plenty of teachers recently." He allowed a smirk. "You're one of my favorites though."

Willow's eyes took on an almost teasing spark. "One of?"

Her race was called then and she did a dramatic stretch that showcased some impressive flexibility. She had taken to doing both the two hundred meters and the one hundred meters consistently, deciding that she shouldn't live in fear of injuries, according to her text message. Whatever happens, happens. 

Willow's eyes came alive as her head turned to her competitors making their way over to the official. "Time to give some athletes a reality check. Watch and learn, Padawan."

Unlike in Kevin's case, there was no record breaking performance to snatch away Willow's sure win. A runner who Kevin didn't know the name of but had intense ginger hair beat out Shalissa for second. Willow ran as graceful as ever, and Kevin found himself wondering if his run had looked even half as mesmerizing as hers did. 

He found himself looking to the crowd where Eastwood High students were located and wondering how Scarlett felt watching these proceedings. They hadn't talked much after her outburst in his car and despite her early good form, she had fell short of the running for the top runners in the region, hence her absence from the lineup. 

He hoped that she knew her potential was remarkable. After all, she competed with older females and the margin wasn't enormous. 

There was a long break until the 100-meter and so, with Coach Ryan's blessing, Kevin found himself in the stands where his mother was, as Michael had somehow found her. She looked uncomfortable in the dense, noisy crowd, but her face brightened when she saw Kevin making his way toward her.

Members of the crowd congratulated the short, unassuming boy who had seemed out of his depth in the lineup but ended up putting significant pressure on a record breaking performance. Kevin was hardly accustomed to the attention he still received at school, so having random adult strangers pat him on the back and say things like "Congratulations, you'll get 'em next time" and "good running" was a bit overwhelming. Frankly, it felt disorienting.

He finally reached his mother and she wrapped him up in a bear hug. "There's my little superstar."

The surrounding crowd, realizing what was happening, showered them with applause and cheers. Kevin started to wonder if their palms would be just as sore from clapping as the athletes' feet would be from running.

"I don't know if the speeds look different from TV and in person but you and that boy looked like the fastest people in the world right there."

Kevin chuckled. "That was definitely a faster run than you've ever seen from me; it was a personal best."

"Well, thank you for putting on such a great show for me. I could hardly hear myself think with all this noise, but I think I started making the most noise when you started pumping those arms. Resting really seems to have rejuvenated those legs of yours...any pain?"

"Nope."

"Who knew rest was so important?"

Not we Matthews, Kevin thought, but decided it was better not to say aloud. He stayed with his mother, who seemed to relax with him by her side. He couldn't resist a cupcake she offered and justified it by putting it under the rest column. 

All too soon, it was time for him to go warm up.

Michael had been giving them space but he approached when Kevin started to make his way down the aisle. "Become one with the wind...and you shall win," he recited. "Maybe that needs just a few tweaks because you were surely one with the wind last race but that Darius got lucky."

Kevin shook his head. "I wouldn't call it luck. He stepped up when he needed to and that was based on preparing his foundation before the race."

"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend? I mean, praising someone who just beat you? It's nothing short of an early Christmas miracle!"

Kevin laughed. "I've stopped viewing a loss as the end of the world. As long as I try my best, of course. It feels more freeing that way."

Michael gave a thumbs-up. "As long as it makes you tear up the track like you did, you'll have to beg Willow to massage your soles from track burn."

Kevin reddened and quickly looked for a change of subject. "How's your conquest of Shalissa going?"

"She's still playing hard to get. No worries though, I grew up fishing; patience maketh man and all that jazz."

"Michael chasing women for a change, it really is a Christmas miracle."

"I wouldn't say chasing," Michael said with a frown, "I'd say...skillfully pursuining in gentleman fashion." He adjusted a fake tie before adding, "Some prizes you have to play a little dress up for, is all."

"I've never known you to want to play dress up for any girl," Kevin pointed out.

Michael shrugged. "Trying out something new - kind of like you, I guess. I'm just going where the flow takes me."

"That's a very shady way to say you actually like her."

Michael quickly turned away. "No hablo inglés."

Kevin spent the next twenty minutes warming up. Braylon was nearby and despite Willow's comment that she wasn't a damsel in distress, Kevin still felt like punching him. However, he diverted his focus to Robert Maddison - the block that had to fall for him to emerge victorious. 

He imagined there would be no feeling of comraderie during the race wth the cocky brat as he had with Darius.

"Whatever you do, make sure you beat that Braylon guy," Willow said. She had come over to help him warm up again. This time, Kevin had forced her to join so she wouldn't start warming up too late. Currently, they were lying side by side doing various stretches.

"What happened to all of that staying in control and focusing on enjoying yourself stuff?" Kevin teased.

"Never heard of it. Beat the clown."

"Right." Kevin rubbed his cheek idly. "He isn't the problem, though, it's Robert...I've yet to beat him this season."

"You've yet to run like a proper human this season until today."

"And I haven't exactly won as a result."

"This is the new and improved Kevin," she continued, ignoring his point. "Don't think about what you did or didn't do before. You are reborn."

"That does have a nice ring to it. Reborn."

"Now go beat that meatball clown to complete the rebirth."

"Aye aye, cap'n."

The crowd's cheers for Robert and Kevin made the applause for the rest of the lineup feel half-hearted. Somewhere along the way, the crowd had begun rooting for the boy with the underdog figure, and Robert was bound to have fans simply based on his dominance in recent weeks. It was almost amusing to see Braylon seethe at his background role in the eyes of the fans. However, the fierce determination reflected in Braylon's eyes was nothing to laugh at. Kevin imagined he had his own ego demon on his shoulder.

At the on your mark call, Kevin did something he had never done or planned to. He pointed to the stands, in the direction where he knew his mother watched, then into the sky, where he knew his father watched. He then eased into his position and once again felt the pulse of the track travelling up his palms. 

It was racing like a jet train. It reflected the weight of not only Kevin's expectations and will, but those of all eight competitors trying to stamp the proof of their worth with a medal.

Once again, the crowd's sudden silence felt heavy on the athlete's shoulders as the official called the set call, and the lineup obeyed.

Thousands of eyes observed in teetering silence as the brave soldiers below prepared their souls for a hard-fought battle.

"Bang."