Noah nodded once. “Until May 15, I’ll make sure everyone believes you’re my girlfriend.”
He shook my hand, and we flew back into Chicago as a fake couple.
15
NOAH
Within a week, everyone in Chicago and beyond knew that Macey and I were dating. We agreed to share the truth with only our closest confidantes—Nathan and Daphne for me, three friends for Macey. She referred to them as “The Burrow Bitches,” so truthfully, I was a little terrified of them.
Nathan had laughed through the phone when I told him and wished me good luck. Daphne told me I was a loser in that ever-sweet tone of hers.
Ladies and gents, my family.
Typically, it was customary for a man to plan the first date. I had no idea how important customs were when it came to fake dating, but apparently, that didn’t matter as Macey showed up at my apartment this morning, claiming she was taking me on a date.
Asurprisedate.
Our journey to Grant Park was full of my frequent requests for information on what we were doing, to which Macey refused to answer. After a few attempts, I gave up.
A familiar environment greeted us when we arrived. Banners and decorations at the start line, support stations filled withbottles of water and snacks, a DJ in the grass and a table of medals. We were at a 5k. Did she think my ankle had healed in the last week?
It was feeling better, but I definitely wasn’t in the condition to run right now. Not to mention the only reason it felt better was because I hadn’t been running.
“I really appreciate this, Macey, but I can’t participate,” I admitted with a brush of my hands on my knees.
Macey grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the fountain. “We’re not running this 5k.”
“If we’re not running, then why are we here?”
Now that I took a clearer glance around the park, a few things appeared different. Namely, the runners themselves. Most people wearing a number didn’t look like a typical runner. They all had adaptive equipment like racing wheelchairs, hand cycles, and prosthetic running blades.
Pop music played over the loudspeakers as an energetic woman with a microphone welcomed participants and supporters. One man, wearing the number 1 and who was missing his left arm, walked up the stage as everyone cheered.
“This is the annual Ability Run 5k.” Macey squeezed my hand. “And, honey, you and I are volunteering.”
How narrow-minded of me was it that I didn’t even know this annual event existed? Or perhaps I did—it was possible every thought of mine vanished with the weight of Macey’s hand in mine.
She froze suddenly, dropping it. “I hope that’s okay. I usually volunteer here every year, and I thought it would be something fun for us to do. I didn’t think that maybe it would be hard being at a 5k without the ability to run.”
“What?” I almost laughed. “Of course it’s okay. I don’t think I could have planned anything better.”
Macey beamed. “Great. You and I are volunteering at the registration and information station. Just follow my lead.”
Minutes later, we found ourselves behind a large white table, wearing matching blue T-shirts that said “Volunteer.” My volunteer experience was limited, but I found that a smile and a polite hello came easily.
The jobs weren’t difficult—we signed people up for the race and gave them a number and a T-shirt. This 5k was different than any I’d run before, and not just because of the runner’s adaptive equipment. Camaraderie felt like the theme of the race, whereas every race I’d run before had an air of competition to it. Inspirational stories were shared on stage here as well as the purpose of the fundraising. All proceeds went to local charities.
Everyone here was unified and motivated. They helped each other, with volunteers ready to support any runner who required assistance.
To my surprise, many of them seemed to know Macey, greeting her with smiles and hugs that lingered just a little too long for my liking. One old gentleman with a patch over his right eye clasped her hand, holding on just long enough for me to wonder if I should step in. Cute, or just bold? Either way, I wasn’t a fan.
“Macey Monroe!” he exclaimed in a raspy voice. “I thought we weren’t ever going to see you again.”
He glared at me, like it was somehow my fault he hadn’t seen Macey in a while.
Macey laughed. “I’m sorry, Bob, work has been crazy. You know I wouldn’t miss the 5k for anything, though.”
“I know, I know.” Bob continued to stare at me, his narrow eyes deepening the wrinkles there. “And who is this lucky fellow working with you?”
