Bastien appeared at my locker the day after we had run against each other in the half-mile practice. I don’t know what it was about people showing up at my locker. Pippa had done it on more than one occasion and so had Ben. I don’t remember ever giving out my locker number but the alternative was that they had been watching me or they had shook someone else down for the information.
“My friend, I believe you and I may have started off on the wrong step,” he began.
“The wrong foot,” I replied. “The phrase is off on the wrong foot.” His diction might have been perfect but some words and terms obviously didn’t translate well.
“My apologies, I want only for us to be friends.”
“You said that,” I pointed out. “You addressed me as ‘my friend’ and now you say you want us to be friends. Why?”
“We are on the same team. We attend at the same school. Is this not what you wish as well?”
No, damn it. That was not what I wanted. I had a friend, Ben, and that was enough. I wanted to tell him I had no vacancies but if he wanted to leave his name and number then I’d get back to him if something opened up. I also wanted to tell him not to hold his breath.
“Look Bastien,” I started while refraining from directly calling him ‘bastard’, “I don’t need you to be my friend. If you’re worried that I need one or think you’ve offended me, you can reassure yourself I’m fine.” I thought that might send him packing.
“You do not like me very well do you?” I thought he shouldn’t ask a question that he didn’t want an answer to.
“What’s this all about?” I decided to be direct. “Is this about beating you on the track yesterday? That was not about not liking you. That was about racing, nothing more.”
“Are you jealous of me my friend?”
“I’m not jealous and I’m not your friend,” I answered. “You’re just another guy around here.” I gestured my hand to indicate the school. “And you’re just another guy on the track. I’m not losing sleep on you wondering why I’m not your friend.”
“Do you lose sleep on wondering why Pippa Bailey is not your girlfriend?”
So that was his game. He really did want a punch in his perfect face. I wondered how much a bloody nose would contrast against his jet-black hair.
“What I am and am not to her is none of your business. If you want to go up against me on the track then so be it but I’d stay out of my personal business if I were you. I beat you in the half mile and I can go the distance to beat you here.” Again I gestured to the school.
“Then Miss Bailey would be fair game?” He looked very smug after saying this. I was keeping my hands tight into my side. It was hard to resist the temptation to physically lash out. I quickly slammed my locker door and started to walk away. I had only gone a few steps before I turned and decided to reply.
“You know buddy, there are trophies in competitions but just try referring to Pippa as a trophy to her face. You might not like her response.” If anyone was going to hit him, I was going to let Pippa do it. I knew it would have more meaning coming from her. “Oh, and by the way, the term ‘buddy’ doesn’t mean friend either. You’re likely to find you don’t have many of those around here.”
I started to walk away but I just had to add, “and stay away from my god-damn locker.”
After that, the game really did begin. He went after Pippa in earnest with a purpose I felt was to throw me off. I tried not to acknowledge them when I saw them together. He obviously had heard about Pippa and I. It was no secret. People had known at the end of the school year we were a couple even if we weren’t big on public displays of affection. I couldn’t help wondering though how much Pippa had told him. Did he know her other secrets? I tried to put that out of my head or it would have been spinning again with those ‘if onlys.’
On the track, I showed Bastien no mercy in the distance runs. I got to the point where I’d even leave Ben behind. I needed the win. I knew the thought of Bastien and Pippa together was getting to me and I had to channel it into my running.
One of the events in the West End tournament was the Tri-Mile run. It didn’t mean we were running a single three-mile race but rather there was an elimination challenge of three one-mile runs. One contender from each school would compete in a one-mile race, or four laps around the quarter-mile track, and the winner from each would face up in a fourth race. It was possible that one school could have winners in all three individual races and then face off against their own teammates in the final.
Ben, Bastien, and I were selected from our school to compete in the Tri-Mile runs. Ben and I were fairly good in the distance runs and surprisingly Bastien had been improving his endurance. I was sure he wanted to best me and prove he was the better man as he was already making time with my girl.
Pippa had become a staple at practices. She was there every day to cheer on Bastien and cheered even louder after I had beaten him by shouting “you’ll get him next time” or “you almost got him that time.” I wanted to remind her there was no almost in running. You won or you lost. Even coming in second was not winning.
Around the school, it seemed true that I was losing out against Bastien when it came to Pippa. She didn’t even glance my way anymore in the one class we did share. I had been determined to find a way to get back in her good graces but she seemed to be moving further and further away from me.
One morning she was at my locker again. I gave it serious thought at that moment to request a locker change or to begin carrying everything with me and give up my locker altogether.
“Jeff, can we talk?” she asked with no introduction to why she was even there.
“Are we talking now?” I responded. I guess my hurt was showing.
“Listen, despite whatever’s going on between us…”
“You mean whatever’s not going on between us,” I said cutting her off.
I thought Pippa might walk away. She crossed her arms but she stood firm.
“Jeff, I’m trying to talk to you. At least hear what I have to say.”
“Go ahead.” I crossed my arms and mirrored her stance.
“I started to say that despite whatever is not going on between us, I always thought you were a decent person. Why have you been so mean to Bastien?”
Oh, sister, I thought, you just asked a loaded question. I had a number of reasons I could have given her at that moment but I didn’t think I needed to justify my hatred of him to her. Instead, I chose to answer her question with one of my own.
“Tell me something, Pippa, why do you care so much about a phony like that?
I expected her to react or to walk away but she stayed where she was and remained calm and collected.
“Do you think I don’t know he’s a phony, Jeff?” No one was giving answers. We were just answering each other with more inquiries. “It’s better to know what someone is and work on changing it than to accept someone as honest and then be disappointed by them later on.”
This was where I wanted to slam my locker and walk away like I did with Bastien before. Pippa was obviously still wearing her hurt too.
“Listen, Pippa, there’s really only one reason why I don’t like the guy and that’s because you do. I still love you. I haven’t stopped. If you’re with Bastien now then that’s your business but don’t expect me to be happy about it or be happy for you.” That’s when I decided to turn and make my exit.
“You’re an ogre!” I heard her exclaim.
I kept on walking.
A few days after my exchange with Pippa, I had to present something I had written for presentation in our Creative Writing class. We had been studying a unit on fables and fairy tales and were required to write something in that genre. I had been inspired by Pippa’s parting words.
I saw the assignment as an opportunity to pour my heart into my writing. I wasn’t writing it for Pippa but rather as a showcase as to how I felt. My story was “How To Love An Ogre.”
I had written the story in the first person narrative because I knew that no one better could represent the Ogre than himself. The story was about a princess who was tired of the demands of royal life and the expectations of her royal parents. She was tired of unlikely suitors or the possibility of arranged marriages. The princess used some of her wealth to have a tower built and she willingly locked herself away from everybody and everything. I felt this was unique because most princesses were locked away against their will.
The princess had sought out the ogre to guard the tower against anyone seeking entry. His responsibilities did not include keeping the princess inside. The princess could come and go as she pleased but when she was inside, the Ogre kept everyone else out. In time, the Ogre came to love the princess for who she was and what she wanted. Above all else, he was a friend to the princess who had no other designs on her.
In my story, the Ogre spoke about how lovely the princess was and how he had loved her the first time he saw her but was happy just to be near her. Over the years, the friendship grew between the Ogre and the princess and the Ogre felt being her friend was enough even though he secretly loved her. He knew he was only an Ogre and probably didn’t deserve better. Being near the princess was sufficient for the Ogre.
In the end, the princess finally found true love and married. The Ogre did not become a prince nor did he become handsome by any magic. He remained an Ogre and his true beauty was inside. When the princess had a daughter, she eventually sought out the Ogre and introduced the Ogre as the princess’s best friend. In time, the princess’s daughter came to love the Ogre as her friend as well. It was enough for the Ogre.
After I read the story aloud there was a round of applause from everyone in the class. Pippa was staring at me and I could see tears on her cheeks. After class, she approached me.
“That was beautiful, Pink.”
I was Pink again. I had moved the needle.
“Thank you,” I said back to her. I didn’t want to push my luck by asking about the Pink designation.
“Can I walk with you after school?” she asked.
“Okay,” I said hesitantly. There was hope in my heart and I tried not to relay it in my voice. Was this how our relationship was going to restart? I knew there was power in words but I had never thought it could move mountains. Hadn’t she been rock-hard against me in our last confrontation?
“Good, I’ll see you out front, later.” She gave me a little wave and turned.
I couldn’t wait until the end of day. Maybe she was on the verge of forgiving me. Maybe she was going to dump that bastard and come back to me. I should have guessed what was coming.
Pippa found me after the last bell rang. We left the school and I turned left and she turned right.
“Where are you going?” I asked. “I thought you wanted me to walk you home?”
“No, I’m walking you home,” Pippa responded.
“I thought you had a curfew?”
“Not since before my Birthday. I think mom trusts me a little more now after everything that’s happened.”
But nothing had happened. I had never been revealed to her mother as Steve Wilson or Pink or Jeff Carter. Ours had been a private break-up before her mother even discovered we had been together.
Pippa hooked her arm in mine and started to pull me in the opposite direction of her way home. “Lead the way, Pink. I have no idea where we’re going.” Neither did I. She was clearly in charge.
“You liked my story?” I thought that was a safe place to start.
“Like I said, Pink, it was beautiful. I’m sorry I called you an ogre. I said I never wanted to hurt you again and I guess I did.”
“We both did,” I pointed out.
“Let’s not talk about that Pink. I want to talk to you about Bastien.”
I tensed up. Why did we need to talk about him? I thought this was about us.
“What about Bastien?” I asked with caution.
“I want you to be nice to him.”
I stopped and stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. I thought we had had this out. I didn’t like the guy.
“Pink,” she continued, “I know you don’t like him. I’ve heard you and Ben refer to him as ‘that bastard’. I want you to know why I like him.”
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I wanted to unhook my arm but it was the only touch we had shared in over a month. I wasn’t about to let her go. I started to walk again and I was prepared to drag her along if she didn’t move her feet with mine.
“Go ahead, I’m listening.” I was aware I was not sounding sincere.
“You said he was a phony. I told you I knew that already. The thing you don’t know about Bastien is that he’s capable of being sincere and caring and honest.”
“And I’m not?” I had stopped walking again. This time Pippa started forward and pulled on me.
“This isn’t about you or about me, Pink. Bastien’s only here for the school year. I know he’ll be gone by next summer. Until then, I think I want to be with him.”
Shades of ‘Grease.’ Now Pippa was the John Travolta character committing to a limited-time romance because she knew there would be no strings attached at the end. I didn’t think she was capable of that role reversal.
“Does he know all of your secrets?” I had to ask that question. If he had that same intimacy with her then we truly were finished.
“No, he doesn’t. That’s why I want to be with him. I’ve carried my secret around for a long time now and you were the only boy I told and look how that turned out. I can just be myself with him. He gets to see Pippa Bailey as a girl with no baggage. I can just be me.”
“And when he’s gone?” I asked.
“Well, by then, maybe I’ll have become so used to being me, the way I want to be, then it’ll be second nature to me.”
“And then?”
“And then, Pink, I find my next dream.”
“This is where I get off,” I responded.
“Hunh?” she asked puzzlingly.
We had been walking and talking and finally, we were standing in the street outside of my house. Ours was a bi-level home. It was a typical one-storey house and the front door opened onto a landing with stairs that led both up to the main floor and down to the basement. My parents had a bedroom on the main level at the back of the house and both Rod and I had bedrooms in the basement at the front. Our windows were at ground level and faced the street.
“This is where I live.” I pointed to the window on the right. “That’s my bedroom there.”
“It’s nice,” Pippa observed. “But what about what I said about Bastien and I?”
I wanted to tell her that her current dream was a nightmare keeping me up at night. The thought of any relationship between her and Bastien haunted me to no end. The thought of any relationship with Pippa that didn’t include me was even worse.
“That’s your dream, Pippa.” I didn’t feel like adding the hokey bit about her following that dream wherever that dream may lead. My comment about ‘this is where I get off’ was going to have to be the answer for our relationship as well.
“I know you told me that you still love me Pink and I still love you. But we can’t be together. You’re part of everything I’m trying to move on from. You don’t have to be happy for me but you’re a nice guy and I was hoping you could move on too.”
Oh, the nice guy routine. That’s exactly what every hopeful love-struck teen does not want to hear. I had to be quick and think of something that would impress her to see me how she once viewed me. I needed an opportunity that would drive Bastien away and bring Pippa and I back together.
“Okay, Pippa, I’ll make you a deal. If Bastien can somehow get to the finals in the Tri-Mile race and if I get to the final and if we run against each other and if he beats me, and those are a lot of ifs, I’ll bow out gracefully.”
“And if you win or you both lose, Pink?”
“Then forget about me forgetting about you.” I wanted my own terms.
“But Pink, this is about moving on. I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
“I know,” I replied. “But that’s your dream and I’ve got my own that includes you and I gotta follow that dream to find the love I need.” I guess I couldn’t resist the hokey urge after all.
“Have fun trying,” she said and turned and walked away.
“Oh, I will!” I shouted after her.
The following week was the West End tournament and we were the host school that year. Practices had been intense leading up to the event. Ben and I put extra hours into our training for the Tri-Mile. We would meet up on weekends and in the evenings. Ben and I were very strong in the distance running. I was glad we would each get separate chances to prove ourselves in the mile run. The only thing I was not enthused about was the possibility of running against Ben in the final. I had been outpacing him in some of the practices but I wasn’t sure if I could beat him when it came to a head-to-head. I was sure he had learned well and was holding back on something he would release in the competition.
Bastien continued to improve as well. Sometimes Ben and I would go to the track in the evening and would encounter him running laps. He wasn’t always alone. Sometimes Pippa was running along with him. That nightmare I had been experiencing was taking on more dangerous visions. I had not seen her run since the Harrier. She certainly had never offered to run with me. On those occasions, Ben and I would wait off at a distance until they were finished before we would take to the track.
Pippa obviously wanted her dream to be with Bastien so much that she was prepared to put the effort into training him. That only fueled my hatred for that Bastard more and I was damn sure not going to let go of my dream.
I started a game of intimidation by mixing my on-field running with doing laps around Pippa’s neighbourhood. I would pass by her house, loop around adjoining streets and jog past her house three or four times before heading off home.
Pippa took up the challenge and soon after I would spot her with Bastien as they included going down my street as part of their training routine. She looked good in jogging shorts but the sight of Bastien with her took away from that vision.
The day of the West End was another warm fall day. I wasn’t sure who scheduled the dates for these events but they obviously consulted some reliable weather almanac. The track itself had been well groomed and was sporting new chalk lines for all of the events.
Our school did better in the West End events than we had in the All-City. Collegiate was not one of the schools competing. In addition to our school was the aforementioned Bayside as well as Centennial Secondary. Our athletes were ready and even though the Park brothers were off in Toronto opposing each other, we still had a talented roster.
Many of our new talents finished first and second in their events. Bastien swept in the short-track events in which he participated. He had the speed and, thanks to Pippa’s coaching, he had developed the endurance. He grinned stupidly after every win and I was looking forward to my opportunity to wipe that stupid grin off his face. I also wanted to show Pippa I wasn’t done yet when it came to her. She had said she still loved me. That was an opening I was prepared to exploit.
I had not told Ben about the deal between Pippa and I. His relationship with Sandra put him in a difficult position. His girlfriend had been clear with him that the topic of Pippa was off-limits. Ben would not be asked by either camp to solicit information to be passed on. I wasn’t even sure the deal I thought I had made was binding by either side. Pippa hadn’t exactly agreed. She had only asked me what the outcome would be if neither Bastien nor I won the Tri-Mile or if I was the victor. I was the one who dictated my intention if I was the winner. I only assumed with the effort Pippa had put into Bastien’s training that she would hold me to the other part of the deal if Bastien bested me.
The day of the tournament, resplendent in our blue jerseys, I thought I should take Ben into my confidence. Bastien had been successful in the short track sprints and Ben had become suspicious when Bastien had dropped out of the half-mile race. I had suspected that Pippa had advised him to excuse himself and to concentrate on the longer Tri-Mile.
There were only two semi-contests for the half-mile and these, like the preliminaries for the Tri-Mile, had been spaced throughout the day. I had run my half-mile leg earlier on and had been triumphant. Bastien and Ben and one competitor each from the other two schools had been scheduled to pair off in their heat. At the last minute, Bastien had been scratched from the race. Ben and an athlete from Bayside took first and second respectively. The final in the half-mile would consist of Ben, myself, the Bayside runner from Ben’s race, and the Centennial runner who had placed second behind me.
Ben approached me after his heat. He hardly looked winded and I wondered what competing against him in the half-mile would be like or if we both managed to get into the finals of the Tri-Mile.
“What do you think that was all about?” Ben asked me.
“What was that all about?” I answered innocently.
“You know damn well what. Bastien drops out of the half-mile and you don’t blink an eye. You know something, don’t you?”
I decided to tell him what I suspected and how it tied into my deal with Pippa.
“And where do I fit into all of this?” he asked after I had told him everything. “What if I beat both of you?”
“I have a contingency for that. I expect that you’ll give us both a challenge. If you win, you win. May the best man win and all that, you know.”
“But you want to be the best man, don’t you?”
“Ben, I’m not going to lie to you, I want to beat that bastard more than anything.”
“It won’t get you Pippa back. It sounds like even if you do win against Bastien then you’ve got an uphill battle with her.”
“Let me worry about that. You just run as well as you always do. This doesn’t really concern you.” I wasn’t trying to be dismissive of Ben but the deal I had proposed didn’t really include Ben. If I had to lose to Ben it would be better than losing to the alternative.
“The hell it doesn’t!” he exclaimed. “You’re my friend and I’m dating Pippa’s cousin. I’m going to get it from all sides.”
“Not from me you’re not. I’m only asking you to run your race and maybe one other little favour.”
“What’s that?” Ben asked with skepticism.
“Between the pair of us, let’s beat that Bastard!”
I didn’t know if I had allayed any of Ben’s concerns. I knew he wouldn’t throw his race. He wanted to win the Tri-Mile for himself and I was sure he’d provide great competition to both Bastien and I.
Ben and I squared off in the half-mile final and I could tell he was in it to win. I didn’t really care. I had yet to run my leg of the Tri-Mile and I had to save something for that race. I gave it my all and if Ben did beat me out at the finish he was sure he had won it squarely. For my part, I wasn’t sure he hadn’t.
Ben had run his Tri-Mile preliminary earlier in the day and had finished easily. Bastien, after dropping out of the half-mile had a tough go of it in his Tri-Mile heat. Bastien only managed to just beat out his Centennial opponent to move on to the final. It was stacking up to be a first for the Tri-Mile with all three semi-finalists possibly coming from the same school. It only hinged on me running away with the lead in my contest.
Both of the athletes in my leg of the Tri-Mile had not competed in anything else throughout the day. They were fresh and they looked lean and ready to compete. Lined up against them at the start I could see both of them on either side of me ready to put me through my paces. After hearing the starting gun I fell in line behind both as they took an early lead.
You have a lot of time to reflect when you’re running four quarter-mile laps. Although I was concerned with the other athletes racing against me, I was also consumed with hatred for Bastien and a singular goal to get to the final and put him in his place. I had to win my race because my single purpose was that Bastien’s place would not be at Pippa’s side.
I held the third spot for the first two laps before I began to challenge my opponents. This was more than a race to me. My future with Pippa depended on me not losing. The competition against Bastien for my girl depended on me finishing in first. I didn’t care about the other racers. Second and third were the only options I was prepared to leave for them. For me, coming in second was not winning.
I took the lead in the fourth and final lap and easily breezed in for the win. I was elated. Bastien, Ben, and I would meet up later against each other. As I saw it, there could only be one outcome and that was with me being victorious.
I had watched Bastien off-field whenever he had completed a race. Pippa was there. Students had been given the chance to be excused from classes if they attended the tournament to cheer on their home school. It wasn’t mandatory and there were some who didn’t attend in the school or at the track. That wasn’t Pippa. She was there in Bastien’s corner like a prizefighter’s manager. I couldn’t bear to watch.
My thoughts of Pippa were ever-present throughout the day. How could she be with a guy like that? I had been asking myself that question for many weeks. I hadn’t liked the answers she had given. She said he was capable of being sincere and caring and honest. She said it was better to know what someone is and work on changing it. She said she could be herself with him; a girl with no baggage. She said I was part of everything she was trying to move on from and I didn’t have to be happy for her but hoped I could move on too. She also said she still loved me. I thought if she could say that to me while being with another guy, then brother, that’s when I go to work with a clear conscience.
The time for the Tri-Mile race finally came. My head was swirling with all those answers from Pippa that didn’t add up to me. I was ready for the race but I was having a hard time clearing my mind.
“Gentlemen, it is an honour to have you as my competitors,” Bastien said as he, Ben and I took the starting positions. That Bastard and his near-perfect grammar was all smiles. I was harbouring such hatred for him that I saw his statement not as a compliment but as a challenge. I think Ben might have said something complimentary back to him but I was quiet and focused on the race ahead.
There was one false start as I bolted ahead a split-second before the starter’s pistol. We three had to line up again and I was given a caution. I had to settle down my mind. I was so anxious to get ahead and stay there. I couldn’t give Bastien an inch.
The next start was successful and we were away down the track. I had found a moment of calm before the second start and tried to focus on all of the rules of running. I had to pace myself. I had to leave a reserve for the last lap. To hell, with all of that, I thought. I had to beat Bastien. I had to show Pippa up in her little game. She would be mine again.
We all kept pace with each for the first two laps. Ben and Bastien were on either side of me so I could easily see both of them. Bastien began to pull ahead in the third lap and Ben and I kept pace with each other. We had seen this before and knew that the final lap was where we’d make our move.
On that third lap, I kept Bastien in my sights and focussed on not losing any further ground. I had lost so much ground to him already since he had arrived at our school. I had lost my girl to him. Pippa was my girl.
Moving into the fourth and final lap I began to reflect on everything. It all came pouring in. Pippa had said she still loved me. I had written the Ogre story and she had called me ‘Pink’ again. Then I remembered I had only written that story because she had called me an Ogre. The Ogre in my fairy tale was sensitive and did what the Princess asked and he continued to love her even though he knew she would never be his. Then it hit me, I was the Ogre in my own story.
I had been referring to Pippa as my girl. I had been determined to upset her plans with Bastien for my own gain. She was the prize to be won. That was all wrong. Hadn’t I told Bastien that there are trophies in competitions but he shouldn’t try referring to Pippa as one? I had forgotten my own words.
I began to realize maybe it wasn’t Bastien who should be the focus of my anger. I should have been angry with myself. I hadn’t been thinking clearly at all. Ever since I had met Pippa I had only focussed on how to be near her and eventually make her mine. I had been patient and then thankful and then stupid. After our split, I had transformed into a consumed individual who had lost sight of living my own life. Pippa had been my life and here I was racing to stop her from getting on with hers. I couldn’t separate out whether I had done this to myself or it had all been Pippa’s fault.
While this all was playing out in my head, my body had instinctively done its job and I had caught up with Bastien. Ben was there alongside of us. I snapped out of my reverie and focussed on not winning. It had become clear to me that I had to follow through with one thing I had told Pippa when we last met. This was where I got off.
I began to ease my speed but not overtly. I had pulled ahead but then I slowed and pulled back until I was even with Ben and Bastien. Ben gave me a look and I shook my head ever so slightly from side to side. The gesture was not lost on Ben. He sped up and took the lead only enough to allow Bastien to move ahead in time with Ben’s steps. Around the last corner, I made another effort to regain the lead so it wouldn’t look like I was deliberately trying to lose. Ben and Bastien and I kept up a back-and-forth in the home stretch but we allowed Bastien to cross the finish ahead of us. I knew I was going to owe Ben an explanation.
There was suddenly a throng around Bastien with Pippa in the center with him. Ben and I walked around a little bit and kept throwing glances at each other. How was I going to tell Ben I had given up? It was bad enough that I had let Bastien win but I had communicated silently to Ben that I wanted him to do the same.
My hatred for Bastien had abated. It wasn’t his fault I felt that way. I had played into the old jealousy game. Bastien and I were both pawns. Wrongly, I began to think Pippa was the reason for all of this. I knew I had been stupid and loved her blindly and the one solid ‘if only’ that ran through my mind was ‘if only’ I hadn’t loved her the first time I saw her.
Everything swelled up inside me and I could only see my story with Pippa was finished. I saw an opening in the crowd around her and Bastien and I approached them. I was empty and angry all at the same time. I blamed Pippa. I had proposed the agreement and now she had what she wanted. I wasn’t prepared to let her off that easy.
“Is that the deal you wanted or should I have thrown in my shirt?” I asked angrily. In a final gesture to our finished relationship, I whipped off my jersey, threw it at her feet, and walked away.