That said, fifty yards with each of the ten yard lines being the interval points was normally what I ran in practice. The fact that Quinn was willing to do the entire field, and at every five yards at that, was unbelievable. Was she just showing off, or could she actually do it?
“Fives,” I replied.
She faced the field and prepared to run. “Fives it is.”
Burning lungs and a throbbing headache were the cost of my arrogance, but it was worth it to see what Quinn was capable of. She was a speeding bullet down the field, and she didn’t have any trouble at all catching her momentum and reversing it when she touched her target lines and started back off toward the other end. Shame enveloped me when Quinn was already charging toward the other end zone when I was still just on my way back from the five yard line for the other end zone, ninety-five yards away from my starting point. When I finally touched the starting line and turned to head for the other end zone, Quinn was already halfway back. When she passed me, I was just barely able to see the freezing look of determination on her face.
I got back to the starting end zone, finally, and if it weren’t for the pouring sweat soaking the edge of Quinn’s hair and dripping down her body, I wouldn’t know she ran the drill at all. I could barely breathe, but I did my best to pull myself upright when I reached the end zone and to act as aloof as she seemed.
“Took you long enough,” she huffed.
“One of us played a whole football game tonight,” I spat back.
“I had a three-hour practice,” she grumbled, “but use whatever excuse makes you feel better.” I snarled at the use of my own words against me but otherwise ignored it. She took the strap of her sports bra and ran it along her forehead. “What’s next?”
Everything in my body begged me not to do anything else, but I didn’t listen. I pulled off my tank top, used it to wipe some of my sweat away, and then threw it to the side. “Kicks.”
The next hour brought more pain than I had inflicted on my body in quite some time. We ran kicks, jumps, turns, presses, and tosses until every muscle in my body was demanding me to stop. Every time it seemed like one of us was gaining edge over the other, we’d switch drills and the other would come fighting back with all their power. I hated to admit it, but Quinn was one hell of a football player. Knocking her force of will out of her was going to be tougher than I thought.
Quinn did a good job of keeping her cool during the intense drills for a while, but by the time we’d finished throwing, she was starting to look a little worse for wear. We’d emptied the full dispenser of water Tyler had left behind and were relying solely on our bodies to keep us going.
“Next?” she asked, and I nearly collapsed. How had she not given up yet? “Tackles?”
I snickered as best I could through my desperate attempts to catch my breath. “You could never tackle me.” The game we’d played against one another had never given us the opportunity to tackle. I’d seen the way she took down some of the players in her rec game, but she wasn’t ready for someone like me.
She dug her feet into the ground exactly where she was standing and looked like a bull prepared to rush. She was serious. I steeled myself, and when I was settled in my stance, she came bolting toward me. She smashed into me, and all of the wind went flying from my body. It was like I’d been hit by a freight train at top speed. My feet completely left the turf, and I went flying down to my back, slamming my head against the turf and instantly feeling dizzy. She stood to her feet over me, twisted her head to crack her neck, and looked down at me with a smug expression on her face.
The amount of hidden energy I had to pour into getting to my feet was surreal. My head was still buzzing a little, but I was okay apart from being rocked. I was going to call it, but Quinn dug her feet into the turf again and looked at me. She patted her abs a few times and then locked her arms on either side of herself. She meant for me to tackle her back. I said a silent apology to my body and charged. I plowed into her, and to my dissatisfaction, she didn’t go down. I dug my shoulder as deep into her sternum as it could go, curled up turf from the way my cleats were grinding in, and finally, she toppled. Unlike her, though, I didn’t have the energy to get back up. I rolled over to my back next to her, and when she didn’t get up, I knew she’d reached her limit, too.
We stayed there in total silence for what felt like hours. It had been a long time, if ever, since I’d run against someone who kept me on my toes as much as Quinn had. I already knew I was going to be too sore to function tomorrow, and Coach would be mad, but I didn’t care.
I had fun.
I forced the thought from my brain. Quinn wasn’t fun. I hated her. I hated that she backed out of our deal. There were thousands of players out there that could run a practice like that, there had to be.
When Quinn finally sat up, she folded her arms around her knees. I could see she was deep in thought, but she unexpectedly turned to look at me, and I didn’t even have the energy I needed to look away. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and for a second, I almost felt like I could see that same excited energy that was barreling through me in her. It was gone as quickly as it had come, and Quinn crawled up onto her feet. I stayed on my back and watched as she walked, slowly, over to her backpack and jacket. She picked them up and didn’t look back as she walked off the field.
Once she was gone from sight, I turned my face up to look at the stars. I counted them until I lost count, and before I knew it, my eyes had drifted shut, and I was snatched from consciousness.
13
Quinn
I was in absolutely no condition to play football. It had been two days since I ran drills with Zeke, and the memories still clung to me as much as the soreness clung to my muscles. I imagined Zeke’s face, determined and passionate as we ran, and the way the sweat glistened down his well-chiseled body. I hated the way it gave my heart a slight flutter. God damn him for being so much of an ass. If he weren’t, we could actually get along.
I was grateful for a home game so that I could use as much time as possible to rest, but when I asked Alec for a ride to the field, he finally got suspicious.
“All right, out with it.” I wasn’t prepared to fight, but Alec pulled the keys out of the ignition, and my legs were too sore to even consider getting out and walking. “What did you do to yourself.”
“I’m fine. I’m just a little sore.”
“I know your schedule better than I know my own. You’ve been to work, you’ve been to regular practices, and your next game isn’t for another two hours. You’re doing better today, but yesterday, you could barely walk. You owe me answers, Quinn.” Alec crossed his arms. “We promised.”
I grumbled. The night that Alec showed up at my door after having been kicked out of his parents’ home, I reamed him for not telling me sooner that he was questioning his sexuality. I’d learned that night that he had gone on several sketchy rendezvous in the interest of experimenting. Any one of them could have resulted in his kidnapping or death, and no one would have known where he was. That night we made a promise to one another never to keep secrets between us that could or did hurt us.
“Remember how I bought those season tickets to the Vipers games?” I asked.