I met Marie in the hallway after school. “The race is tomorrow,” I said. “We should sign up.”
“The three-legged race?”
Running the three-legged race together was what seventh-grade couples did on the next-to-last day of school, at the Outdoor Games.
For two months Marie and I had sat together at lunch, in assemblies, and on field trips. Being a couple was way better than her poking me in the back with her pencil in Algebra. I’d never been so happy. I had already prepared something to write in her yearbook on the last day of school – right after the morning movie, where I hoped to hold her hand for the first time.
“I’m sorry, Kenny.” Her big, brown eyes matched her words.
“You don’t want to race?”
“No, I do.”
“I don’t understand.”
I thought I saw her chin quiver, and she looked down. “I already signed up.”
“Oh, good. I didn’t know. Think we’ll win?”
I liked her blond curls, her sprinkling of freckles, and her smile, but she wasn’t smiling now.
“Not with you. With Bobby.”
Maybe my heart didn’t stop, but it started to hurt – for two reasons. The second one was, Bobby was my best friend.