Free The Running Dream by Wendelin Van Draanen Page A

dumb.”
    We get to the car and I’m suddenly tired.
    “You made it,” she says when we’re both belted in. “How are you feeling?”
    I laugh. “I’m feeling sorry for you that you have to go to track practice! You were up all night putting together this amazing day for me, and now you have to go do what? Wind sprints?”
    She cranks the motor. “It’s actually just a team meeting. And Kyro knows I’m going to be late.”
    “Just a team meeting?” But then I realize why. “Are the Glenwood Relays tomorrow?”
    She nods.
    As we drive along, I think about Gavin being with Merryl, and I’m surprised that it really
doesn’t
bother me. Maybe it’s the contrast between subjects. Gavin versus the Glenwood Relays—right after the last invitational meet, someone died.
    Someone else lost her leg.
    Besides, if Merryl’s the kind of girl Gavin likes, then maybe I gave him too much credit.
    These thoughts swirl inside me for a little while, and I let them stew. But in the end the conclusion doesn’t change. I’m not just consoling myself, or fooling myself into believing I don’t want him because my chances of having him have gone from slim to none.
    It’s really just simple.
    I’m over Gavin Vance.

 
    M OM’S WATCHING FOR ME when I get home.
    I knew she would be.
    She has SunChips and cheese waiting for me in the kitchen—my favorite after-school snack.
    We sit and talk, and it makes me feel good that she’s so interested in knowing all about my day, but honestly, how can I explain it? I tell her the basics—that my homework load is greatly reduced, that Fiona was amazing, that there was a big party for me in Kyro’s room, and that people were nice to me—but I don’t mention the stares or averted eyes. I don’t tell her about Gavin, or Merryl, or Mr. Vedder’s question, or Ms. Rucker’s cool demeanor, or sitting with Rosa. I’m too tired to revisit any of the tough stuff.
    But tired or not, there is one thing I have to know about.
    “Mom …?” I ask as she’s refilling my juice glass.
    “Yes, sweetheart?”
    “Kyro mentioned there’s a problem with insurance. What’s going on? And why does Dad think it’s Kyro’s fault?”
    The juice slows to a dribble as she looks directly at me. Itruns down the pitcher, then drips onto the table. “He said that?”
    “Yes.”
    The pitcher wobbles a bit as she puts it down. “He shouldn’t have mentioned a thing.” She shakes her head a little. “Your father will be furious.”
    “Why? I don’t get that. I don’t get it at all.”
    “Because you, of all people, shouldn’t be worried or even
thinking
about insurance. He had no business telling you that there’s a problem.”
    “He only told me because I asked.”
    “About insurance?”
    “No. About why Dad’s mad at him.”
    “Your father’s not mad at
him
, really. He’s mad at the situation, and I think that in the beginning Kyro got the brunt of that.”
    “Well, Dad made me think he was mad at Kyro, so I asked, okay?”
    Mom sighs. “Well, now he will be.”
    “He’ll be mad at Kyro? Look, none of this,
none
of it, is his fault. He’s aged ten years since the wreck. He wears a Lucy bracelet, okay?”
    Mom heaves another sigh.
    “So tell me what’s going on with insurance! I don’t understand what the big problem is.”
    I stare at her as she considers this for what seems like an eternity. Finally she takes a deep breath and says, “It’s nothing that time won’t take care of. Everything will be okay. It’s just that payment is clogged because the different insurancecompanies are dragging their feet, each pointing the finger at the other.”
    I frown at her. “What does that mean?”
    She closes her eyes, takes another deep breath, holds it for another eternity, and finally says, “Jack Lowe didn’t have insurance.”
    “The guy in the truck that hit us?”
    “Right. See, normally, since the accident was his fault, his insurance company would pay your medical bills. But