career, his personal life seemed more confusing than ever.
Katie, his girlfriend of two years, broke up with him just before graduation. She was concerned that her moving away to college would make their relationship too hard to continue. On top of all of that, Katie said the worst thing a girl can say after breaking up with her boyfriend. She said she still wanted to remain “friends.” Connor couldn’t grasp the concept that two people who had felt so much for each other could just turn those emotions off and be completely platonic.
As he pushed his body to run faster, Connor replayed the conversation in his head.
“You know I love you, Connor. I’m doing this for us. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because it doesn’t have to be like this. We can make this work. Things are great between us and I don’t want to lose you.”
Katie sighed, her blue eyes looking sadly into his. “If it was meant to be, then—things will work out. I know you and I are supposed to be together. That’s why this is all going to work. You and I are going to be hundreds of miles away from each other focusing on school. Don’t think of it as a break-up, instead think of it as a break. We can still be friends. That will never change.”
Connor shook his head. He knew she’d made up her mind and he wasn’t one to beg. “Friends, huh?”
“Friends,” she agreed. “We can still talk and hang out before I leave for school, and I’ll be there if you ever need me.”
Connor ran faster, just shy of a full sprint. What did “just friends” mean, anyway? In the months since their break-up, Connor and Katie talked on the phone and even saw each other a few times, but there was no denying it was very different now. Where once warm hugs and kisses passed freely, now awkward embraces and unsure high fives took their place.
With his frustration rising over the whole ordeal, he forced himself to a sprint, losing himself in the feeling of pushing his body to its limit. His favorite place was the line between what his body told him he couldn’t do and what his inner drive told him was possible. Having already run for forty minutes, his body insisted on a rest. His legs burned, his lungs screamed for more air, and his heart felt as though it might pound out of his chest.
At this point most athletes would take a break, but not Connor. Now he called on his beast within—that power, that drive—that would not let him fail. Legs pumping, he flew through the forest. Nothing else existed except the amount of effort he could put forth. Gone were the worries of being a teenager, gone were the nagging questions he didn’t have answers to and instead there was something he could control. He could push himself harder, and when his body asked him to stop, he could provide a simple answer, “No.”
After a few minutes of this dead sprint, Connor slowed down to give his body a much-needed rest. Laughter rang out from his heaving chest, he was never happier than when he allowed himself to lose control. He loved the feeling of freedom. Alone in the woods, he let himself revel in the joy.
Jogging over to a worn wooden bench, he removed his earphones and began to stretch his aching muscles. As his body recovered from the run, Connor lapsed in being conscious of his surroundings. The sound of a snapping twig made him jump. He turned and saw a female figure standing behind him.
She was about his own age, and dressed in a knee-length black business suit. Lightly tanned, she had long brown hair that fell in soft curls and the most intense green eyes he’d ever seen.
Neither one of them spoke for what seemed an eternity. She finally broke the silence.
“Stare much?”
Still pouring sweat and panting, Connor searched for words. “I… I was running and… I didn’t know anyone else was here.” He was shocked not only by her presence but by her sarcasm.
“Do you usually laugh when you stop to take a break?”
Connor stood up straight, wiped the sweat from his forehead and gathered himself. “Only if it’s a really good run.”
She nodded slightly as if she understood.
“I’m Connor.” Walking toward her, he extended a hand.
“Connor, I’m Laren, and I’d love to shake your hand but—” Glancing at his sweaty palm, she raised an eyebrow and gave him