Chapter 3: Crossing the Line

The week after Lauren dropped me off felt like a lifetime. She was like a ghost. Her eyes avoided me. She stopped calling my name. She proactively ensured that we were never alone again. I felt abandoned again. I could understand her unwillingness to engage physically, but the emotional disconnect was killing me.

Mike noticed. “Dude, you’re off,” he said one afternoon. He watched me miss a cone drill.

“Coach Blaze got you tied up in knots?” Sarah smirked.

“He’s just worried about Regionals.” Mike defended me.

I mumbled something in response.

They didn’t know. I couldn’t allow that. The secret felt like a heavy weight, but I was bound to carry it with me. It was just me and the silence from Lauren.

Regionals were only a few days away. The air buzzed with nervous energy. Lauren pushed us harder than ever. Her focus was fierce. She was all coach. I saw her glance at me sometimes. Just a quick flash in her green eyes, and then it was gone. She was running from something. I knew it. She was running from us.

The night before Regionals, the team gathered for a final pep talk. Lauren stood in front of us. Her face was serious.

“This is it, team,” she said. Her voice was steady.

“All your hard work. All your guts. It comes down to tomorrow. Run your race. Leave it all on the track.” She looked at each of us. Her eyes lingered on mine just a second longer. My heart pounded. That was the signal I was waiting for.

After everyone left, I stayed behind. I folded a few stray papers on a chair. I just wanted one more minute with her, one more look. Lauren was stacking clipboards. Her back was to me. Her auburn hair shimmered under the dim gym lights.

“Coach?” I said.

She turned. Her shoulders were tense. “Danny. Thought you left.”

“Couldn’t,” I said. I stepped closer to her. The air felt heavy. “What’s going on, Lauren?”

She sighed. She ran her hand through her hair. Her eyes were tired. “It’s nothing. Just ... pre-race jitters for the team.”

“No,” I said. “It’s more. You’ve been ... distant. Since ... you know.” My voice trailed off. I saw the fear in her eyes. Her conflict was evident in her curled fingers.

She walked over to the window. Her gaze stilled at the dark field outside. Silence filled the room as I waited for her response.

“Danny, I should never have allowed what happened between us.” Her voice was soft. It cracked a little. “It was a mistake. A huge mistake ... for both of us.”

My chest tightened at her words. There was a finality in her voice. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.”

She turned. Her eyes were full of a painful honesty. “It was a mistake. Do you even know the risk for me? My career, my reputation, everything I’ve worked for is on the line here.” She stepped and leaned back against the wall. “You’re a kid, Danny. You have your whole life ahead. I can’t ... I won’t ruin that.” She hugged herself. Her arms were wrapped tightly. “I’m sorry. I just ... I got carried away.”

“Carried away?” I said. My voice was sharper than I meant. “We were—”

“We were playing with fire, Danny,” she cut in. Her voice was firm now. “I’m the adult here. I should have known better.” She looked at me with pleading eyes. “Let this end, Danny. Please ... We both have to move on.”

The words hit me like a cold wave. I learned what bittersweet meant in that moment. She was right. I knew she was right, but my heart refused to accept it. It longed for her. “So, that’s it?” I asked. My voice felt small. “Just ... done?”

A tear ran down her cheek. “Yes. It has to be.” She took a deep breath. “Run your race tomorrow, Danny. Focus on that finish line. Not ... this.”

I wanted to argue. I was willing to negotiate. Hell, I would have begged on my knees, but I saw the resolve in her eyes. Her pain froze me. She was hurting too. I imagined reaching for her, but the distance in her eyes stopped me.

“Okay, Coach,” I said roughly. “I get it. I don’t understand. I don’t agree, but I get it.”

I walked away. Each step felt heavier than before. The gym echoed with my lonely footsteps. She didn’t call me back. I knew she wouldn’t. The finish line felt closer, but it wasn’t the line of success. This was the end for us.

Regionals day was cold and clear. The course was tough. Every stride was a struggle, but I ran. I ran for the team. I ran to numb the ache in my chest. I ran to prove I could still fly, even without her fire. Lauren was on the sidelines. Her red windbreaker was bright. Her auburn hair flashed in the weak sun. She yelled instructions. Her voice was strong, but she never looked at me. Not once.

I crossed the finish line first. My best time. The team erupted. Mike tackled me. Sarah hugged me tight. Our “Yay Team!” chant roared. I was a champion, but the victory felt hollow.

I looked for Lauren. She was clapping with a professional smile on her face. Her eyes met mine across the crowd. For a fleeting moment, I saw the ghost of our past. A hint of sorrow. Then it was gone. She raised her hand to wave. A final, bittersweet goodbye.

After the awards, while the team was still celebrating, Lauren found me near the equipment shed. The dusk was settling. The field was almost empty. Her face was calm. Too calm.

“You ran incredible, Danny,” she said. Her voice was soft.

“Thanks, Coach,” I said. My pulse raced. This was it. The absolute end.

She bit her lip. Her gaze flickered to the empty field, then back to my face. “Danny ... I have a few things to sort out. My car’s just over there. I could ... use a hand.”

Her voice was low, almost a plea. Her eyes held a mixture of desperate sadness and a fleeting, familiar dare.

My heart jumped. This was the ‘one more time.’ The final time.

“Sure,” I said. I grabbed my bag and followed her to her Datsun. She drove fast. Springsteen’s “Born to Run” played quietly. Her fingers tapped the wheel. Tension buzzed between us. However, last time was the hope. This time it was the end. Her hair glowed in the fading light. I burned that memory to my mind.

“Just a few boxes,” she said, her voice strained. She grabbed a bag, and I took the rest. Just like the last time.

“This is it, isn’t it?” I asked. My voice was rough. I already knew the answer.

She sighed. It was a shaky breath. She didn’t smile. Her eyes filled with a painful resignation. “Yes, Danny. It has to be.”

Her hand reached out, fingers trembling as they touched my arm. She paused, her gaze searching mine, full of raw green conflict.

“One last time. To remember us. Then ... then we’re done. For real.” Her voice shook, but her gaze held a fierce. She was pushing us both over a cliff.

“Let’s make this one count.” She whispered and we kissed.

The apartment was quiet. A faint TV hummed next door. Every touch felt massive. Her space made it real. We were sealing this moment. This painful, beautiful end.

We left the trail of our clothes to her bedroom. Out naked bodies crashed on her bed in tangle of limbs.

I held her in my arms as I entered her. Her warmth felt familiar and tight. Her breath hitched. Her green eyes locked on mine. They felt fierce and fragile all at once. She clung to me. The bed creaked softly beneath us.

“Danny,” she whispered. Her voice was raw. “Make it last.”

I moved with slow, deliberate strokes. Each thrust was careful, like I was memorizing her depth. I was memorizing her.

Her hips met mine. Her movements were steady and yet desperate. Her auburn hair spilled across the pillow. Her peppermint scent wrapped around me. The peppermint was ruined for me, forever.

I kissed her neck. Her skin was warm and freckled. It came alive under my lips.

“Can I mark you once?” I asked. My voice was rough. A half-laugh and a half-plea.

She smiled but it was filled with sadness. “Good,” she murmured. Her hands roamed my back. “I want you to feel this forever.”

I latched on to her neck to mark a hickey. I wanted to claim her as mine for that moment.

Her legs wrapped tighter around me. Her thighs trembled. I felt her pulse around me. She came hard below me.

My primal instincts took over. I gripped her hips and pulled her closer. I wanted to melt into her. I wanted to stop the time in this moment.

I started slamming into her hard. The bed creaked at each stroke. Her moans were loud, almost broken. Each one hit me like a punch.

“Oh god, you will ruin me for another,” she shuddered.

“Lauren...” I groaned. My body was screaming. I wanted to hold back but she pulled me along with her.

Our climax hit like a tsunami as our bodies shuddered together. We lay limp in each others arms as we soaked in our mutual satisfaction. Our unexpressed love.

She reached up and cupped my face. Her thumbs brushed against my cheeks. Her eyes were wet but she didn’t cry. “You’re so good, Danny,” she said. Her voice cracked. “Too good.”

I kissed her hard. Our tongues tangled. Her body arched beneath me. Her breasts pressed against my chest. Her nipples poked against my skin.

I was hard again. My hand slid between us to find her clit. I circled it slowly like I had read in the shady book. Her gasp was sharp. Her hips started bucking.

“Right there,” she breathed. Her hands gripped my hair. “Don’t stop.”

I didn’t. My fingers worked on her clit as my thrusts deepened. Her moans grew louder and wilder.

The room faded for us. The hum of the neighbor’s TV, the distant traffic, it all vanished. It was just me and her. Just us.

Her body tensed, her breath ragged. She came with a quiet cry. Her warmth pulsing around me. Her nails raked my back in the throes of passion. I’d feel those marks for the days.