Breathe, Annie, Breathe
Page 10
I take the damp rag from my apron pocket and start wiping down the round, working to scrub dried, brownish-yellow mustard away. “Maybe.”
But I know I’ll say no. I already have to listen to my brother doing his girlfriend when I’m at home; there’s no way I’m going camping with them—tents have thinner walls than our trailer.
“I guess I’ll see you soon, then,” Evan says in a quiet voice. I can’t look him in the eye.
Nick stops fawning over Kimberly long enough to give me a quick hug. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” I lean into the hug. He subtly stuffs more tip money in my apron, and I give him a smile.
I wait tables until midnight. Then it’s time for side work. It’s my turn to scrape gum off the bottoms of tables, which is just about the worst task ever. The worst is refilling all the glass ketchup bottles; a good night is when I don’t drop a bottle on the floor. Next, I roll a hundred sets of silverware for tomorrow’s brunch shift, and then I clock out.
I pull my apron off and search my bag for my keys as I enter the parking lot, and soon I’m tucked in my car. I swipe my cell on, hoping to find messages, even though I don’t really want to deal with anybody. The only text is from Mom, asking me to pull her blue shirt off the clothesline when I get home. Ok, I text back, then scroll through my contacts. I always flick past Kyle’s name quicker than anyone else’s. Really, between him and Kelsey, there’s nobody in the Ks that I can talk to anymore. But that’s sort of true for the As, Bs, and Ws too. I drop my phone in my tote and start the ignition. I drive past Sonic, where kids from school are hanging out over Cherry Limeades and onion rings. My heart pangs when I spot Kelsey’s bright blue Mustang convertible.
I head to the drive-in movie theater, to the spot I shared with Kyle. I make it in time for the last half of the late showing of Clueless, that Alicia Silverstone movie from the nineties. It’s about this rich, hilarious girl who does nice things for people.
I buy some popcorn from the concession stand, then sit on the hood of my car and laugh at all the funny parts, wishing he was laughing along with me.
Marathon Training Schedule~Brown’s Race Co.
Name Annie Winters
Saturday
Distance
Notes
April 20
3 miles
I’m really doing this! Finish time 34:00
April 27
5 miles
Stupid Running Backwords Boy!!
May 4
6 miles
Blister from HELL
May 11
5 miles
May 18
7 miles
May 25
8 miles
June 1
10 miles
June 8
9 miles
June 15
7 miles
June 22
8 miles
June 29
9 miles
July 6
10 miles
July 13
12 miles
July 20
13 miles
July 27
15 miles
August 3
14 miles
August 10
11 miles
August 17
16 miles
August 24
20 miles
August 31
14 miles
September 7
22 miles
September 14
20 miles
September 21
The Bluegrass Half Marathon
September 28
12 miles
October 5
10 miles
October 12
Country Music Marathon in Nashville
TODAY’S DISTANCE: 5 MILES
Six Months Until the Country Music Marathon
Today is what Matt calls a “rest” day.
This means our team has to run five miles before we do seven miles next Saturday. Five miles does not seem like rest to me. I’m beginning to think a radioactive spider bit my running coach.
I wonder if it’ll be a Jeremiah-free day—I didn’t see his Jeep parked near the rest of our cars this morning. Maybe he’s off working with runners training to run the Boston Marathon or something fancy.
Matt’s making us run around downtown Nashville this weekend, because we’re all sick of the trails; plus he wants us to get used to running in the city since we’ll be doing that during the marathon itself. He made us memorize our route today—it’s important to understand a course before you run it. You need to know where the hills are, so you can steel yourself. It’s also crucial to know which coffee shops are runner-friendly and will let you use the bathroom if there aren’t any porta-potties nearby. And just in case we get lost, Matt hung a bunch of orange ribbons on various light poles and street signs. Like Hansel and Gretel and their crumbs.
Our team started out at Music Row, home to all the country music labels, and now I’m coming up on mile 4. The largest building in Nashville—the AT&T building—looms over the city. Everyone calls it the Batman building because its spires stick up like Batman’s mask.
But I know I’ll say no. I already have to listen to my brother doing his girlfriend when I’m at home; there’s no way I’m going camping with them—tents have thinner walls than our trailer.
“I guess I’ll see you soon, then,” Evan says in a quiet voice. I can’t look him in the eye.
Nick stops fawning over Kimberly long enough to give me a quick hug. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” I lean into the hug. He subtly stuffs more tip money in my apron, and I give him a smile.
I wait tables until midnight. Then it’s time for side work. It’s my turn to scrape gum off the bottoms of tables, which is just about the worst task ever. The worst is refilling all the glass ketchup bottles; a good night is when I don’t drop a bottle on the floor. Next, I roll a hundred sets of silverware for tomorrow’s brunch shift, and then I clock out.
I pull my apron off and search my bag for my keys as I enter the parking lot, and soon I’m tucked in my car. I swipe my cell on, hoping to find messages, even though I don’t really want to deal with anybody. The only text is from Mom, asking me to pull her blue shirt off the clothesline when I get home. Ok, I text back, then scroll through my contacts. I always flick past Kyle’s name quicker than anyone else’s. Really, between him and Kelsey, there’s nobody in the Ks that I can talk to anymore. But that’s sort of true for the As, Bs, and Ws too. I drop my phone in my tote and start the ignition. I drive past Sonic, where kids from school are hanging out over Cherry Limeades and onion rings. My heart pangs when I spot Kelsey’s bright blue Mustang convertible.
I head to the drive-in movie theater, to the spot I shared with Kyle. I make it in time for the last half of the late showing of Clueless, that Alicia Silverstone movie from the nineties. It’s about this rich, hilarious girl who does nice things for people.
I buy some popcorn from the concession stand, then sit on the hood of my car and laugh at all the funny parts, wishing he was laughing along with me.
Marathon Training Schedule~Brown’s Race Co.
Name Annie Winters
Saturday
Distance
Notes
April 20
3 miles
I’m really doing this! Finish time 34:00
April 27
5 miles
Stupid Running Backwords Boy!!
May 4
6 miles
Blister from HELL
May 11
5 miles
May 18
7 miles
May 25
8 miles
June 1
10 miles
June 8
9 miles
June 15
7 miles
June 22
8 miles
June 29
9 miles
July 6
10 miles
July 13
12 miles
July 20
13 miles
July 27
15 miles
August 3
14 miles
August 10
11 miles
August 17
16 miles
August 24
20 miles
August 31
14 miles
September 7
22 miles
September 14
20 miles
September 21
The Bluegrass Half Marathon
September 28
12 miles
October 5
10 miles
October 12
Country Music Marathon in Nashville
TODAY’S DISTANCE: 5 MILES
Six Months Until the Country Music Marathon
Today is what Matt calls a “rest” day.
This means our team has to run five miles before we do seven miles next Saturday. Five miles does not seem like rest to me. I’m beginning to think a radioactive spider bit my running coach.
I wonder if it’ll be a Jeremiah-free day—I didn’t see his Jeep parked near the rest of our cars this morning. Maybe he’s off working with runners training to run the Boston Marathon or something fancy.
Matt’s making us run around downtown Nashville this weekend, because we’re all sick of the trails; plus he wants us to get used to running in the city since we’ll be doing that during the marathon itself. He made us memorize our route today—it’s important to understand a course before you run it. You need to know where the hills are, so you can steel yourself. It’s also crucial to know which coffee shops are runner-friendly and will let you use the bathroom if there aren’t any porta-potties nearby. And just in case we get lost, Matt hung a bunch of orange ribbons on various light poles and street signs. Like Hansel and Gretel and their crumbs.
Our team started out at Music Row, home to all the country music labels, and now I’m coming up on mile 4. The largest building in Nashville—the AT&T building—looms over the city. Everyone calls it the Batman building because its spires stick up like Batman’s mask.
