Fast Company (6 page)

Manny dropped back slightly on the backstretch and made his way to the inside lane. All eight runners were fast, and they were moving as a unit. The first lap went by in 33 seconds, with Manny running third behind Bertone and a runner in a yellow jersey.

Serrano came cruising by midway through the second lap, looking very smooth and in control. Manny was already feeling the pace, struggling just slightly.

They passed the midpoint in 66. Manny’s goal in this race was 2:16, but the competition was more important than the time. He needed to show himself that he could take these guys.

The third lap hurt like crazy, but Manny stuck with the leaders. Bertone continued to set the pace, with Serrano second and Kamalu now third.

“1:41,” came the call as Manny finished his third lap, just a yard or so behind the leaders. He was well ahead of his previous race, but his breathing was a struggle and his arms felt like lead. The three runners ahead of him accelerated toward the finish. It felt like the race would never end. Manny was fading badly.

Wu raced past him on the final turn, and then another runner swept by. Manny pumped his arms harder, but he had nothing left to give. He could hear the others coming up behind him, but he managed to hold them off and finish sixth.

Manny stepped off the track onto the infield. He held his arms across his stomach and walked stiffly toward the high-jump mat, where he fell face-forward and shut his eyes in agony. He’d never felt worse in his life.

“You all right?” came a familiar voice.

Manny sat up and rubbed his eyes. Sherry was standing next to the mat.

“I’ll be okay,” Manny said. “You run yet?”

“Soon,” she said. “There’s about a million heats in the boys’ race. Nice job, by the way.”

Manny frowned and shook his head. “I got toasted.”

“Don’t worry about it. You hung in there.”

“I sucked.”

“No you didn’t.”

Manny stood up and swallowed. “I gotta go,” he said in a hurry, not sure what was going to happen next. All he knew was that he needed to get to a bathroom.

“Wish me luck,” Sherry said as Manny hurried away.

“Luck,” he said, not turning back. He waited for a pack of runners to pass by on the track, then quickly made his way toward the exit. The rest-rooms were on the next level. Manny hustled down the stairs, his spiked shoes making
click-click
sounds on the steps.

He barely made it to the bathroom in time, bending over the first sink in the row and vomiting up his breakfast in three quick heaves. Froot Loops, orange juice, everything. He turned on the faucet to rinse the sink, and leaned against the porcelain with his eyes shut.

After a minute he began to recover, and he cupped his hands to take water into his mouth. He rinsed and spit, then wiped his mouth with his arm. Two younger kids were staring at him.

Manny laughed gently. He felt much better already. The dizziness was gone and his stomach was relaxed. “Tough race,” he said to the younger boys.

Manny took off his spikes and walked up the stairs barefoot. Serrano was on his way down.

“You win?” Manny asked.

“Barely,” Serrano said. “Where were you?”

“Way back. No kick today.”

“A fast pace like that takes it out of you,” Serrano said. “We were all tying up. I barely got past Bertone at the finish.”

“I just puked my guts out,” Manny said.

“Comes with the territory,” Serrano said. “You got e-mail?”

“What? Sure.”

“Write down your address for me. I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay. Catch me upstairs.”

“You got it.”

Manny took a seat in the bleachers with his teammates, sipping from a bottle of blue Gatorade. His throat burned from the racing and the vomiting.

Coach came over eventually and took the seat next to Manny.

“How bad was my time?” Manny asked.

“Just over 2:22,” Coach said.

“That’s terrible. I’m supposed to be getting
faster
. ”

“You were on pace for a 2:16 until that monkey jumped on your back,” Coach said. “Listen, every good runner has races like that. It’s just part of the learning curve. You stayed with those guys for most of the race. The tough guys keep at it, whatever they’re up against. There’s nobody tougher than you.”

Manny nodded. He’d blown this opportunity, but there were plenty more ahead. He knew he could run faster. But those other guys—Bertone, Kamalu, Serrano—they were on a whole different level from him.

B
y the time they got back to Hudson City late Saturday afternoon, Manny was starving. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he hadn’t digested anything all day.

Manny had ridden over with Calvin, Zero, and Anthony in Mr. Martin’s van. As the runners unloaded outside the school, Manny had an idea. “Let’s all meet for wings or pizza or something.”

“Or both,” Anthony said. “Villa Roma?”

“Yeah. Let’s tell the others.”

Many of the runners agreed to meet at 6:30 at the restaurant. Manny had enough time to walk home, shower, and call Donald.

And brush my teeth,
he thought. His mouth tasted stale and pukey.

“How’d you do?” Dad asked as Manny entered the house. Sal and his parents were having dinner.

“Not good,” Manny said. “Went out too fast and fell apart.”

“Those are the breaks.”

“Yeah. Okay if I go to Villa Roma? A bunch of people from the team are going.”

“Sure,” Mom said. “Didn’t you get anything to eat at the meet?”

“No. I threw up after my race. I couldn’t even think about eating until a little while ago. Now I’m starving. ”

“Do you want some pasta?” Mom asked. “Or Pepto-Bismol?”

“Nah, I’m all right. I just need a shower. We got any mouthwash?”

 

Villa Roma was right in the middle of town, and it attracted a young crowd. Most went there for the pizza and the video games. Manny looked through a stack of freshly washed T-shirts on his dresser, then thought twice and chose a blue button-down shirt from his closet instead.

Donald had said he’d show up later, so Manny walked downtown alone. The side streets were dark and cold, but the Boulevard was busy with traffic. Most of the restaurants were bustling.

Several of the runners were already at a big table toward the back when Manny arrived. He waved to Zero and Calvin.

Sherry and two other girls were there. She pointed to the seat next to her. “Sit here,” she said.

Manny shrugged and sat down between DiMarco and Sherry. She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with TEEN QUEEN written on it in small, glittery beads. Her red hair was down. She smelled like perfume, but not too strong.

“Anybody order yet?” Manny asked.

“Just pitchers of soda,” Sherry said. “We were waiting for you and Anthony to show.”

“There he is.” Anthony was walking over with a big grin. He had his medal pinned to his sweatshirt—third place in the shot put.

A teenage waitress came over and looked around the table. “Big crowd,” she said. “What’s the occasion?”

“Anthony won a medal,” said Zero, pointing across the table.

“So did Sherry,” Anthony said. She’d placed fifth in the girls’ 800.

“We’re the fastest people in town,” Zero said. “And the hungriest.”

Manny asked for a hamburger, fries, a strawberry milk shake, and an order of wings.

“Feeling better, huh?” Sherry said.

“Feeling
empty
,” Manny replied. “I’m two meals behind, at least.” He patted his stomach. “Lots of room for expansion.”

Sherry laughed. “You missed my race.”

“Sorry. I was sick as a dog.”

“Yeah. You turned white.”

Manny shrugged. “I
am
half white.”

“I mean you were
pale.
Like you were going to pass out.”

“I know what you meant.”

Zero pounded his fist lightly on the table and raised a glass of Coke. “A toast to Manny, who did the fastest running of the day,” he said with a big grin.
“After
his race. From the track to the bathroom!”

Manny blushed and laughed. Anthony threw a wadded-up napkin at him. Then he opened his mouth wide and said, “
Raaaaalph.
”

Sherry rolled her eyes. “Are you guys gonna be gross?” “Who, us?” said Zero. “No way.”

“Just make sure there’s a clear path between Manny and the bathroom,” Anthony said. “Don’t get in his way, Sherry.”

Manny shook his head with an embarrassed smile. He tapped his chest with his finger. “Guts,” he said.

“We know,” said Zero. “All over the sink.”

“Very funny.”

When the food arrived, Manny drank half of his milk shake before starting on the hamburger. By the time he’d finished the fries, he was full. “You want any of these wings?” he said to Sherry.

“Maybe one,” she said.

“Anybody want these wings?” Manny said, louder.

“Send ’em over,” Anthony said. “Me and Zero will polish them off.”

Manny felt a smack on his shoulder. He turned to see Jason Fiorelli standing there, alongside Donald. “Not so fast with those wings,” he said. “Save some for us.”

“Where’d you come from?” Manny said.

“Donald called me. Told me you guys were hanging out here,” Fiorelli said, reaching for a wing.

Manny looked over at Donald. They hadn’t seen much of each other over the past couple of weeks. Was Donald hanging out with Fiorelli now?

Jason Fiorelli was considered the coolest kid in the sixth grade—an athlete and a comedian with good looks and the kind of attitude that never took anything quite too seriously. He was a star in football and basketball, and generally had at least a couple of girls following him around. He was fast and agile. The type of athlete Manny wanted to be. Sort of like Kester Serrano.

“Hi, Sherry,” Fiorelli said.

“Hey,” Sherry said flatly, looking past Fiorelli toward something at the front of the restaurant.

Donald brought a chair over from another table and slid in between DiMarco and Manny.

“What’s up?” Manny said.

“Nothing much,” Donald replied. He tipped his head slightly in Sherry’s direction and gave Manny a questioning look, like,
What’s the story with you and her?

Manny turned up his hand and gave an
I don’t know
look back. Sherry had obviously been after Fiorelli this year. Jason hadn’t caved, though. Maybe Sherry had given up the chase.

Manny caught Donald’s eye and gave the same unspoken gesture about Fiorelli. Donald shrugged. “We been hanging out some,” he said.

Sherry had gotten up and walked to the jukebox. She was leaning against it, looking at the selections. Villa Roma was known for having a good jukebox, although there was almost nothing current on it. Mostly classic rock and dance, plus a dozen or so Frank Sinatra songs and some big band stuff.

Manny left his seat and walked over.

“I’ve got a couple of quarters,” he said when he reached Sherry.

“I already put in a buck.” She pointed to the listing for “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor. “What do you think of that?”

“Disco,” he said dismissively.

“The
best
disco song of all time,” she said. “What do you want, Aerosmith or something?”

“My dad plays the Doors every time we come in here.”

“Okay.” Sherry punched in the numbers for “Light My Fire.” “That’s for your dad. What about you?”

Manny studied the selections. He glanced back at the table. Nobody was watching them. Anthony was sitting with his chair tipped back, talking to Mary Pineda. Zero and Calvin were playing table football with a wad of paper.

“A New Jersey boy,” he said. “State pride.”

“Sinatra?”

“No. Springsteen.”

“You got it,” she said. “And one more for me.” She chose Madonna’s “Borderline.”

Manny started to walk back to the table.

“Wait,” she said.

“What?” He stepped over.

Sherry leaned with her back on the jukebox and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Nothing,” she said.

“Come on. What?”

“I couldn’t believe it when Jason walked in here.”

“Why not?”

She looked over at the table. Jason and Donald were eating the wings and talking with their mouths full. She started to speak, then stopped.

Manny stood there flat-footed. He felt a trickle of sweat run down his side from his armpit.

“I asked him out about two weeks ago,” she said. “To come
here
for pizza, believe it or not.”

“So, what happened?”

“He said he’d get back to me. And he didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“He acted like it never happened. The next day in school he said hello like he always does, then he walked away real fast. The day after that he started avoiding me.”

Manny scratched his jaw. “Well,” he said, “Jason gets a lot of attention from girls.”

“No kidding,” she said. “He could have just said
no.
”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, it’s not a secret that I asked him. All my girlfriends knew. So I ended up looking like an idiot.”

Manny nodded. “Sorry,” he said.

She shrugged. “It has its advantages,” she said. “Made me run my butt off every day to stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah. I can relate to that.”

“How?”

“Not ... you know. Not because of girls or anything. Just when I get frustrated. I run it out of me.”

“It seems to work. I got over it.” She tapped on the jukebox glass. “Then he came in here tonight.” She shook her head. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Sherry glanced around the restaurant, then took a deep breath. “Can we go outside?”

“Sure.” They got their coats and stepped out to the sidewalk. “What’s going on?” Manny asked.