From afar. Always from afar. Just like the old times.
Speaking of old times, Cassandra actually flew in earlier this morning. She popped by the academy straight from the airport to meet with Dad and me. She wanted to slot in some training blocks with me while she had a window, since she’s got the World Triathlon Championships in a completely different time zone soon.
“Training blocks,” she said, waving her notebook like a weapon.
I groaned dramatically. “Cass, you literally just got off a plane. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, shower? Nap?”
She smirked. “Sleep are for athletes who finish second.”
“Wow. Poetry. Truly inspirational. You should start a podcast.”
Cass flipped the notebook open, already scribbling. “We’ve got three days together before I fly out again. Two long rides, one brick session, and a swim where you don’t fake a cramp and clutch your leg like you’ve been shot.”
“Excuse me,” I said, gasping like I’d been mortally wounded. “That was anauthenticcramp. A masterpiece of athletic suffering. If they gave Oscars for training sessions, I’d have three.”
She just gave me one of her classic unimpressed looks. “Save the acceptance speech, Hollywood. Come on, let’s get ready for a run.”
I groaned dramatically again, but she was already lacing up her shoes with a grin that told me I was in for pain and she was going to enjoy every second of it.
Ten kilometers later, I was a heap of sweat and regret, lying there on the track like roadkill. My lungs were on fire, my legs had declared mutiny, and I was convinced my soul had left my body.
“Cassandra,” I wheezed, staring at the sky, “That was not a run. That was a sanctioned attempt on my life. Who evenrunsat that pace outside of the Olympics?”
Meanwhile, she looked disgustingly fresh. Barely a bead of sweat, hair still neat, like she’d just strolled in from a light jog in the park. She crouched down beside me, grinning.
“Come on, drama queen,” she said, offering me her hand. “Up you get.”
I groaned but let her haul me to my feet, my legs wobbling like spaghetti. She slipped an arm around myshoulder, steadying me as if I were a fragile old lady instead of a supposedly fit athlete.
“Cool down first. We don’t need you collapsing in front of the tennis players. Bad for morale.” she said steering me into a slow walk along the track.
“Bad formy pride, you mean.” My voice came out more like a croak, but she laughed anyway.
We walked in silence for a minute, just the sound of my ragged breathing against her steady rhythm. Like the old days when we used to push each other until one of us dropped, then stick around to drag the other back up again.
“You know,” She said, her tone softening, “I’ve missed this. Us. Training, laughing, nearly killing you.”
“Nearly?” I shot her a sideways glance. “That was a homicide attempt disguised as cardio.”
She smirked. “Seriously though. It’s good to see you like this again. Focused. The Alexandra I knew would never have let herself stay down for long.”
Something in my chest loosened. I hated how much I needed to hear that. “Thanks Cass, that means a lot coming from you.”
We walked a few more paces before she tilted her head, side-eyeing me with that mischievous grin. “So, you’re focused again. Training hard. Looking good.”
“Flattery accepted,” I said, puffing up my chest.
She snorted. “Not just in training. I mean…her.”
“Her who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I knowthat lookwhen you keep sneaking glances across the academy.” She raised an eyebrow.
Heat rushed to my face faster than a sprint finish. “That’s not a look. That’s… strategic observation. I’m just, you know, studying her footwork. For science.”
She burst out laughing, loud enough that a couple of kids turned their heads. “Right. You’ve got it bad. So, what happened? Don’t give me the sugar-coated PR version either.”
I hesitated, chewing the inside of my cheek. But it was Cassandra. She’d known me since I was practically a kid. “We talked. At the pool the other night. I… might’ve said something, and she well, she was honest. Said tennis has to come first for her right now. No distractions.”
