Racing Ahead: Love is a Triathlon, #4

By Chrissy Q Martin

I win at everything but might lose when it comes to love.

 

I excel at sports and academics, but stink at relationships. I'm a think with your head over your heart kind of girl. Chad and I were set up by our parents, but we agree to fake date to please them and will reveal the truth after I graduate high school.

 

Luke is off-limits as my older brother's best friend, but we team up to find my brother a date. Luke is determined to discover something I'm not good at. The more time I spend with him, the more I find myself using my heart over my head. Soon I'm living a lie with a fake boyfriend and a secret boyfriend. Telling the truth will only cause a tidal wave of trouble.

 

When I decide to come clean, the timing is wrong. A family emergency pushes me to choose between pleasing my family or giving into my feelings for Luke. Will I win or lose with my choice?

 

A stand-alone novella in the Love is a Triathlon series, Racing Ahead tells the story of Taylor's senior year and her sweet romance. Get a glimpse of Ash, Dylan, and Paul from Taylor's point of view before or after diving into the three full novels in the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chrissy Q Martin
• Release date: Apr 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224905966

Book preview

Racing Ahead

Taylor's Novella

Chrissy Q Martin

Swimmer Girl Books

Copyright © 2021 by Chrissy Q Martin

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Swimmer Girls Books or [e-mail].

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover by 100Covers.com

Formatted with Atticus

Contents

Dedication

Author's Note

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

Want more Love is a Triathlon?

Acknowledgements

Also By Chrissy Q Martin

About the Author

For You, the reader

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Life’s a journey, not a race. Enjoy the adventure.

Author's Note

This is a standalone companion novella in the Love is a Triathlon series. You can read this without reading the series, but it may give you a few hints to what happens to Ash in the series. If you have read the three books in the series, you'll notice scenes with Ash from the books, but this time they're told through Taylor's perspective. Thanks for reading!

ONE

I eat stress for breakfast and spit out fear. That’s how Ash, my friend and co-captain of the swim team, describes me. I’m not sure it’s accurate, because I don’t think about stress and fear. Certain emotions aren’t worth the time and only get in the way.

If I reacted on emotion, I’d shove a bowl full of something into the mouths of the student council members right now. They keep diverging off the arranged agenda and we need to stay on task.

Alright, everyone, I say in a clear, affirmative voice. Give Alexis your attention and let’s finish this meeting. I’m starving, and I’d like to run home and eat before practice.

We don’t want to deal with a hangry Taylor, Justin, another senior, says.

You know it, I say with a grin.

If you didn’t eat, I’d swear you’re a robot programmed to excel. Justin grins back at me.

Maybe I am. I nudge Justin’s knee with mine and turn to the student council president. Alexis, what’s next?

Alexis gives me a grateful look. She adjusts the glasses on her face as everyone quiets. After winter break, we need to form the committee for the senior prom. Alexis looks at me. Taylor, would you mind heading that one up when we return?

Sure, I say. But-

I have a few suggestions for themes. Justin’s grin is full of mischief.

I can guarantee all your suggestions will be rejected. I narrow my eyes at Justin. His ideas are hilarious and a touch risqué. They will not fly with the administration. And we’ll talk after break. Moving on.

Alexis marks something off her list of topics and the meeting soon draws to a close.

I like your new glasses, I tell Alexis as we exit the room. They look cute on you.

Thanks. Alexis sheepishly smiles and pushes the large tortoise shell framed glasses up her nose. The golden brown of the glasses matches her eyes and compliments her short dark brown hair. I heard my brother might be doing some remodeling work at your house.

Luke? I ask. Alexis’s older brother and mine are friends, but since Peter has been at college, I haven’t seen Luke.

Yeah, Alexis replies.

I guess my parents are serious about remodeling the basement for Peter, I say. My family is poor at communication. Academics and athletics get top billing, and everything else is shoved aside, especially if it deals with feelings.

Doesn’t your brother have another year of college? Alexis adjusts the bag on her shoulder as we head down the hall.

The overachiever is graduating a year early and returning to start his graduate program at the State University this summer. I shake my head with a grin. Peter is living up to and going beyond expectations.

Alexis’s mouth falls open slightly. You’re a family of overachievers.

Over committed is more like it, I say.

My mom arranges a top tier college application list of activities for me. I willingly participate in the swim team, classes at the local university, volunteering at the hospital, competing with the speech and debate team, and of course, joining the student council. And I study…a lot. There’s no time for a job, but my parents fully fund my life if I keep up with expectations and avoid trouble.

Are you going to have time to help with the prom committee? Alexis asks.

Sure, I say. And it’ll be fun.

The slapping of feet on the tile floor sounds behind us. Promasaurus! Justin yells. He slows next to me, out of breath. Or how about a night under the-

Don’t, I interrupt. Don’t say it.

Stars? Justin smirks. I was going to say stars. He has a round babyface with a grin which reminds you of a toddler and is probably the reason most people put up with his nonsense. Justin’s all talk and no action. His head of crazy, curly hair only contributes to his quirky nature and makes him easily identifiable. I sometimes have hair envy, as mine lies in a sleek black line down my back.

I’m saving you from humiliation in case you happen to ask Alexis to prom, I say. She doesn’t need another reason to say no.

And here I thought he was gearing up to ask you, Alexis chimes in.

I won’t risk having Chad come after me. Justin’s dark blonde hair sways as his entire body shudders. That guy is ripped.

Chad is my boyfriend. He’s also a swimmer, and in his first year at Stanford.

I’m sure Taylor could take you down on her own, Alexis says, and I nod in agreement. I have a muscular swimmer body and outweigh Justin, who is as skinny as a broomstick. He’s shorter than me but appears taller because of his hair.

Will Chad be back for prom? Justin asks as we arrive at the front doors.

I’m not sure. I wrinkle my nose. Come to think of it, I haven’t talked to my boyfriend much since Thanksgiving.

Justin holds a door open for us. Are you coming to my party tomorrow?

I am, Alexis says as she walks through.

I’d like to. I pass by Justin and the brisk air hits my cheeks. But Chad gets home tomorrow.

Bring him along, Justin says as he peels off in a different direction. I’ll see you all later.

It’s late afternoon and already growing dark, which makes it feel colder than it is. I pull my coat tight around me and yank a knit hat out of my pocket. It’s always freezing cold in December in Minnesota.

You must be excited Chad’s back for a few weeks, Alexis says as we head to our cars.

He has winter training for swimming, and will only be here for two weeks, I say as I tug the hat over my head.

Bummer, Alexis says. But aren’t you headed to the same college next year?

I’m still deciding, I say.

If I decide to follow my parents’ expectations, I’m going to Stanford with my long-term boyfriend. If I decide to follow my heart, I’m not sure where it will lead. And in my family, a decision is made with the head, not the heart. Feelings are inconvenient.

TWO

You need to talk to your brother, Mom says when I walk in the door.

I don’t even get a hello when I set my heavy school bag down. I’ll soon have to exchange it for my swim bag and head to Thursday night practice. I swim mornings on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and evenings the other weekdays. High school swim season may be over, but I need to stay in shape to swim on scholarship next year at college.

What am I talking to him about? I haven’t seen Peter yet. He flew home this afternoon.

Ask him why he won’t date, Mom replies. He’s never had a date. Is he not interested?

He’s shy, I say and throw my coat and hat on a bench. I’m sure he’ll date when he’s ready. I have no problem picturing Peter as a long-term bachelor, but Mom obviously can’t.

Maybe he doesn’t know how, Mom says. You could give him tips or find him a girl.

He’s fine, I say with a sigh. I’m the last person who should give dating tips. He doesn’t need my help. I’d rather encourage Peter’s absence of a significant other. He’s free to have fun without being attached. Though, Peter’s idea of fun is an intense study session, and my idea of fun is to hang out with friends, minus the books.

You tell him I can arrange a marriage for him, Mom says.

I resemble my mom in looks, except my hair is longer and I’m a couple inches taller, but our demeanors aren’t similar. I tend to joke around, and Mom never jokes about anything. I would kiddingly talk about arranging a marriage for Peter, but Mom is dead serious. She was married at Peter’s age, though my parents waited years to have children.

I’ll talk to him, I say and start to remove my boots. At least Mom is using me as an intermediary, rather than going straight to Peter. But you shouldn’t worry about it. He’s still young.

I’m not worried. It’s the next logical step, Mom says. He’s moving back and needs an equal partner to share the load, like you have with Chad. Perfect for each other.

Yes, I say. Perfect. My tone is sarcastic, but Mom doesn’t catch it. If she does, she overlooks it.

Mom nods her head like an agreement has been made. You talk to your brother.

Yes, I reply. I’ll do it later. I need to eat before practice.

Now, Mom says. He’s downstairs with that friend from high school. The one who didn’t go to college. She shakes her head as if she’s disappointed.

Luke? I ask.

Yes, Mom replies. He’s taking measurements. He’s on the crew we hired to finish the basement.

I didn’t know you were starting that, I say.

They begin after the new year, Mom says. Now go talk and I’ll get your food. Then you can practice and study.

Okay. I shove my boots aside. It must be important to Mom if she wants me to talk to Peter now.

I open a door in the kitchen and head down the wooden stairs to our unfinished basement. It will soon be remodeled into a small apartment with a living area, kitchenette, bedroom, and bathroom.

Hey, I say as I approach Peter. He stands with his back to me and watches his friend take measurements.

Peter and Luke both turn at my greeting. Hey, Taylor. Peter gestures to his friend, who lets a measuring tape in with a loud snap. You remember Luke?

Sure, I say and nod my