Ripped - 3. Chapter 3

Declan tried to be quiet as he dressed in a pair of running shorts, a tank top, and sneakers. He strapped his IPod to his arm, turning for the door, and accidentally kicking the small trash can by his roommate's desk.

Evan jolted, eyes darting around in the pre-dawn darkness.

"Shit. Sorry, Ev," Declan muttered.

Evan flopped back and pulled his covers up. "God, Declan, can't you run at a decent hour?"

"I know I usually run later, but I couldn't sleep. So I figured I'd just get moving." It was true, he hadn't been able to settle down. His stomach had been twisted up all night as he constantly replayed his failure for his team.

"Fine, just go," Evan groaned, burrowing back into his bed.

Declan just chuckled as he slipped out of the room, quietly making his way down the hall so as not to disturb anyone else. It really was a lot earlier than most woke. He headed for the track, staying on the sidewalks and pathways since the grass was still soggy from yesterday's thunderstorms. He jogged leisurely across the campus, using the time to warm up his limbs.

It was dark still, only the faintest hint of the sun's approach lightening the sky to the east. He made his way to the track that circled the football field. Of course, most of the lights were off, but the school kept some lights on all the time around the campus for safety reasons.

He was only mildly surprised to see another guy already on the far end of the track, and he wondered briefly how long he'd been running already. Since the entire student body participated in some sport or another, it was pretty common for the track to be occupied, even when the track team wasn't practicing. Declan just hadn't thought anyone ever came this early—he never had.

A quick glance told him it wasn't likely one of his own teammates. Could be a track guy, they never seemed to get tired of running. Evan certainly couldn't—just not at oh-dark-early.

He was a little annoyed that he didn't have the track to himself. He needed the alone time right now. But the guy was half a lap away, so they could keep out of each other's way. Declan figured they could ignore each other just fine.

He popped his earbuds in as he slipped into a comfortable pace on the inside lane of the track. The steady beat of his favorite classic rock bands kept his feet moving, a sheen of sweat forming over his skin.

But even the blaring roar of his music couldn't quiet the anxiety gnawing at him, his gaze lost to the thoughts in his head.

He found his jaw tightening as he thought of how he'd let his team down, how everyone seemed to know about it by dinner. He'd encountered a few teasing ribs in the dining hall and on the way back to his dorm. Mostly his teammates deflected, and he knew it was best to just let it go, but the memory of it stung his pride.

It wasn't like he'd never been given a hard time before. Hell, he'd made mistakes in games that got him some good-natured goading, but this was different. This belittled his manhood, that someone so small could out muscle him. Hell, if it had been Justin maybe it wouldn't have been quite as bad. Justin was at least his own height, if not his breadth.

With each rhythmic step, he tried to imagine all the ways he could make that Bailey kid pay. Another challenge maybe—pullups... no, weights... that would be better. There had to be a way to save face. Would the kid even agree to another match-up? Why would he? He could claim he'd already bested a football player. But if he refused, he'd look like a coward... so maybe it would work.

He felt his fists clenching as he ran. Damn, he was itching to just punch something. Ideally, it would be McIntyre, but Declan wasn't about to risk disciplinary action. God, he needed to get out on the field where he could hit someone without repercussions; although his teammates probably wouldn't appreciate his sudden 'enthusiasm.' Fortunately, he'd only have to wait until practice this afternoon. With the artificial turfs on all the practice fields, they wouldn't even get muddy.

He was only vaguely aware of a second set of feet thumping on the pavement behind him as he blew out a heavy breath, forcing out the negative energy. His mom had taught him that—breathing and yoga and other meditative shit. He'd never admit aloud that he sometimes did some of it. The guys would have a field day with that little tidbit. But it did help, when he was especially stressed. That and running. And occasionally being able to knock someone on their ass during a game or practice.

It wasn't long before his feet were pounding at a moderately intense rate. The air sliding in and out of his lungs soothed him. His hands were loose, as he let the thrum of energy help wash away some of his anger. He wasn't stupid, he knew better than to let his pride get the better of him.

Movement to his right startled him. He'd forgotten about the other guy on the track, even though the back of his mind had vaguely registered the footsteps pacing behind him for a few laps.

Now that he was calmer, the run finally releasing some of his resentment, maybe it wouldn't be bad to have a little company. The sun had created a luminescent glow on the horizon. Declan glanced over; he guy was wearing sweats and a hoodie, which Declan thought was overboard. It was too warm, even at this time of day, for that. He eyed the guy, surprised to see him move to the outside lane, still going strong. Definitely had to be a track guy.

"Hey!" he called out, pulling out one earbud as he offered a friendly wave. "What's up?"

The other guy faltered a step as he looked over. Nearly translucent gray eyes darted over at him in mild surprise. Then a small smile appeared followed by a hesitant wave.

Declan nearly tripped. Fuck. It was that goddamn Bailey kid. Why the hell was he here? And now? Had he followed him to the track just to show him up? Was he trying to rub his nose in the fact that he'd beaten Declan in pushups?

Heat flared up Declan's cheeks, and he put on a burst of speed. No way in hell was he letting this guy get the better of him again. He glanced over at Bailey and narrowed his eyes at the other boy, thundering past him. He grinned smugly to himself when the smile fell from the hooded face. Take that, flyboy.

Declan's thighs burned as he powered on, not willing to show weakness, not willing to lose—again. He came around the far corner of the track and was able to see another person, taller than Bailey, coming towards him. Declan slowed as the newcomer approached him.

"Hey, Declan," Justin greeted as he got close enough.

Declan cursed under his breath, coming to a panting stop. "What are you doing here?"

Justin seemed surprised by his harsh tone. "Oh, just hoping to catch up with Bailey. He usually likes to run really early."

"Well," Declan gestured over his shoulder with a self-satisfied smile, "he's somewhere behind me."

He saw Justin's eyes flicker over his shoulder with a confused frown. "Where?"

Declan whipped around, shocked to see the track empty. Where the hell had the kid disappeared to?

"Huh. Well, he was here. Guess he gave up," Declan grunted, starting up a slow jog to cool down.

Justin turned and jogged alongside Declan for a few moments, and Declan wished the guy would just leave already.

"Hey, man, I just wanted to say I'm sorry you got caught up with Chris's bullshit yesterday."

"You were part of that bullshit," Declan shot back.

Justin looked taken aback. "You didn't seriously think your team could just come in and steamroll over us like that?"

"Would it have hurt you to give up the room a little early? So it could be put to good use."

Justin stopped abruptly and shoved Declan's shoulder, causing him to stop as well. "What the fuck are you talking about? You think what Chris did was right? I thought you were one of the more sensible ones on the team. But I can see you're an asshole just like Chris."

"No—just... it would have avoided a lot of trouble if you had."

"So just because the football team is bigger than the gymnastics team, you think they can demand anything they want? That we can't make good use of the weight room?"

Declan didn't want to get into an argument with Justin. Of course he didn't think what Chris had done yesterday was right, everyone was just on edge from being cooped up inside. "No, just saying, you know, with all your flips and—" Declan waved his hands in the air "—dancing around, and everything, you don't need the weight room like we do."

Justin just stared at him, shaking his head. "Dancing around, huh? God, you really are a dumb fuck. I'm glad Bailey beat your ass yesterday."

"He didn't—" Declan growled, his body stiffening.

"Oh, hell yeah, he did," Justin laughed. "I chose you because you've always been pretty laid back—wouldn't take it as personally as Eric or Nick would—but maybe I was wrong. Honestly, Chris should have manned up and challenged me. Who knows, he might have beat me, he might not have. But when he zeroed in on Bailey, assuming he was the weakest, he made a huge mistake."

Declan glanced around, his eyes searching for the other teen. "He's so—"

"What?"

Declan just shook his head and took off toward the gates. "Fuck it. I'm going to shower."

"Yeah, go ahead and run away!" Justin yelled after him. "You're a coward, just like Chris! Bailey probably got tired of you slowing him down and left."

Declan clenched his fists at the taunt because he knew Justin was right. He'd sensed Bailey pacing behind him for awhile before the teen had decided to pass. Had Bailey been mocking him by dogging his heels like that?

Declan slammed his hand on the fence surrounding the track. "Goddamn it!"

Bailey McIntyre had made a fool of him again, even if no one else had been there to see it.