In spite of the situation in the locker room, by the time Alexander and Byron reached the grass field in the back of the school, the tension between the two had dissipated entirely. Walking side by side, the two classmates laughed as they chatted with each other. Not even the dread of the five-kilometre run could dampen the mood.

“So, you used to run track-and-field competitively?” Alexander asked Byron as they did their pre-run stretches. Byron chuckled.

“You bet! I’ll have you know that I was one of the best at my old school!” he said, smirking in Alexander’s direction. “Why? Do you think you can beat me today?” 

“Do you think I can’t?” Alexander smiled, playfully punching Byron’s arm. He remarked how firm Byron’s arm was against his own, but turned away before Byron could catch him staring, no matter how subtle he tried to make it. This proved unsuccessful, as Byron gave Alexander a playful smile in return. Alexander felt himself blush.

“Oh, I know you can’t,” Byron told Alexander, flexing his arm to emphasize the point. “But you’re welcome to join me on my morning runs if you want to dream of ever coming close!” 

Alexander felt a strange feeling in his chest, a motivation he had never felt much before. Still, knowing how experienced Byron was when it came to running, Alexander was aware the odds were stacked against him. But despite it all, he let out a smile.

“No thanks, I’m too busy running away from my responsibilities!” Alexander said in jest. Byron chortled at the remark. 

As the group lined themselves up at the starting line, Byron looked at Alexander, his eyes full of confidence. Alexander returned the favour, determination burning in his eyes. He was now looking forward to the race he had dreaded until now. Alexander wondered how that came to be, and whether Byron was having some kind of positive influence on him.

As they readied themselves, Byron muttered a soft “good luck” in Alexander’s direction. Alexander nodded back and then looked straight ahead.

Soon the whistle rang. Alexander and Byron dashed forward.

With all his might, Alexander propelled himself ahead, digging the balls of his feet into the ground with each step. As he swung his arms back and forth, his heart began to race with adrenaline as beads of sweat slid off each strand of his hair. At first a feeling of ecstasy rushed through Alexander’s body, a feeling of invincibility. 

But soon, Byron sped past Alexander, outpacing him as if doubly so. Alexander narrowed his eyes. Even when running, Byron’s figure was elegant. Glancing at Byron’s calves as they tightened and relaxed over and over again with each and every step, Alexander’s face began to grow warm. Alexander’s pace soon began to slow.

Who was he kidding? Of course, Byron was faster than he was. As quickly as the adrenaline came, it was gone, and Alexander was left gasping for air. Sweat ran down his cheek as Alexander hunched himself forward, short of breath.

Ever since he met Byron, Alexander was certain that he was a star he couldn’t reach. From his good looks, his friendly face, his athleticism, and then some, Byron had everything Alexander wished he could have in a person. He was better than him in every way. Byron was kind, Byron was uplifting, Byron made going through life look so effortless, the way Alexander wished he could do.

Alexander let out a cry, but with each impending cough, he clutched his stomach in immense pain.

He could imagine what Victor must have felt like every time he bested him while putting in half the work. He knew that Victor must have put every ounce of his being into everything he did, so to be bested by someone like him, a lackadaisical, carefree boy, Alexander knew that had to sting. 

Deep down, beneath the burning feeling within his lungs, Alexander knew that it wasn’t the race. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how the people around him seemed to know how to live their best lives, from Victor’s ambition towards his future goals, to Byron’s easy-going confidence, yet Alexander couldn’t even picture what he would do upon graduation. He wondered, not for the first time, if he was the only one out of his friends without any idea where he was headed, and what he was doing in life. 

As a gust of wind blew through his hair, Alexander let out another barrage of coughs. Choking on his spit, he wiped his forearm against his mouth as he stood straight up.

The sun still shone bright, and the path in front of him was vast. Looking at the path ahead, Alexander thought back to what Byron told him earlier that day.

“Whatever you decide to do, I’m sure you’ll do great things.”

Alexander thought about the people who had supported him throughout his life: his father, his uncle Javier, and especially his mother. They must have gone so far to upend their lives an ocean away to start new lives in a new city. 

He knew how powerful his mother and uncle were back in their hometown; his parents never hid that part of their family from him. Yet he also knew how they nonetheless cut themselves off from that part of their lives, doing away with the comforts of being part of the powerful Samson family in Divinagracia so that they could build honest lives for themselves through sheer grit and determination. 

If they had sacrificed so much to give Alexander a better future, an honest future free from his grandparents’ meddling, free from riches and power unearned, then perhaps he ought to try with all his might to achieve his dreams with his own two hands.

Alexander planted his foot on the ground and propelled himself forward. With all the motivation he could muster, Alexander pushed himself forward to finish the race he had started. He didn’t feel like running, but he ran anyway. He kept his feet moving, the same way his father would keep his hands moving in the café every day. Not because he felt like it, but because with each passing day, he could become a better, more accomplished person than he was the day before. 

With each pace and with each breath, his heart soared to newer heights. Even when the race would be all but said and done, the time would come for him to figure out what to do with his life, to take his future seriously. Maybe then, he could become a person that Byron, no, he, himself, could be proud of.

Surging forward with each step, Alexander surprised everyone, even himself, as he had caught up to Byron in the final stretch. But as he tried harder and harder to lunge himself into victory, in the end, Byron still had him beat. Still, despite the sweat and tears, Alexander was beaming with joy.

Today may not be the day, but maybe some time in the future, he will grasp his hopes and dreams within the palm of his hand. But what mattered now was that he had crossed the finish line.

Alexander looked straight ahead at the vastness of the grassy field. From that moment on, he would make his mark in the world and on the people around him. Come what may, he will be ready.