Hot and sweaty, Cousin Kieran clings to my body, as we mash together. He can barely hold on to me as I have no fat.  “No love handles,” as he puts it. He never gave me a second glance all those years at family holiday parties, but now, I’m so slim that my breasts perk up like inverted teacups and my hair pulled back from my face reveals my high cheekbones, he’s willing to give me a second glance.  Years ago, I would peer at him over slices of devils’ food cake and raspberry trifle, and he’d grimace and look the other way.  Now I stroke his curling hair as he arches himself into completion. “Kissing cousins” he smirks and pulls himself off, pulls up his trousers and buckles his belt.

My mom works a lot. And dates a lot.  She’s trying to find a replacement daddy for me.  She goes to singles dances and social mixers.  Still attractive, even with a teen daughter, she wears clingy jersey tops and skinny jeans that show off her figure.  Every weekend she spends on these ‘hunting expeditions’ as she calls them.   

I am not wanted. They do not see me.  I spend each weekend on my own.  Meanwhile, my aunt thinks that being on my own leads to trouble and offers her son to keep me company, like a babysitter, although Kieran is only a couple of years older.  The first day he arrived with a bag of puzzles, sour cream potato chips and onion dip.  Some Twizzlers. 

 I am lean and mean, I think to myself.  I didn’t luck into the physique of my mother and am built more like my dad, stocky and inclined to plumpness until I decided otherwise.  I imagined I was a lot like my dad.  Or used to before he decided he wanted a different life, unfettered by responsibilities and commitments.  Sometimes he sent post cards from places like San Diego CA where he visited Sea World, or Taos, New Mexico where he hung out in an artist’s colony, or Key West, Florida where he mingled with Hemingway’s cats.  There was never a return address. Just him talking about how beautiful the sky was and how he wished I was there to see it with him. As if.  Then they stopped and I wasn’t sure if that meant he was dead or just lost interest.  Or maybe a bit of both.  My mother would purse her lips as she handed over the post cards to me. I suspected she wanted to rip them in half.

 It was around that time that I lost interest in food, or at least food like cakes and cookies. The idea of food seemed so boring, and I focused more on hydrating. I ate enough to get by.  And drank lots of water. 

Until I decided to try out for the cross-country team. Not sure where the impulse came from, it just seemed a way to be fit and also have something on my transcript for when I applied to colleges.  At least, that was a thought that occurred to me. 

The high school has a mainly woodland track, and after Kieran leaves, I get dressed in my running clothes and head to the course.   

Kieran is also on the cross-country team and has no idea that I am trying out.  I hope he will be pleased to have me as a teammate though the girls run at different times than the boys, but the teams share the same buses.  

At the course, there were other girls which I wasn’t expecting.  Like I was the only one trying out. Not sure why I thought that. Girls with legs of rippling muscles and hair in French braids.  All wearing coordinated running outfits in pastel colors like pink and lime and Nike sneakers unlike myself in my farmer’s market t shirt and shorts which are baggy on me as I’ve lost so much weight this year.  

“Are you trying out?” The coach asks me and part of me wants to flee as I don’t know what I have let myself in for. I nod up and down like one of those fuzzy dogs you see at the back of a car that nods helplessly.  I’m beginning to have second thoughts but then I think of my cousin and how it felt to have his weight above me, the dark curls of his slight beard grazing my face, breasts, and stomach as he went down on me.  It’s important to take this next step. 

“First everyone, line up,” the coach indicates to all the girls, “and we are going to start stretching. The rule of thumb in any sport is making sure one is properly stretched.” He points to one of the French braid girls. “Nina, show them how it’s done. “  

Nina, the tallest, in a lime green sports bra with matching short shorts, beams with pride and seniority and turns around to face us all.   Her face glows with cheeks like Pink Apples. 

“First, Nina will lead us all in jumping jacks.”  She begins to jump and down with her hands waving in the air and we all follow suit. Her one braid bobs up and down with each jump. I feel a bit ridiculous but at least I’m not the only one. “Now that our bodies have warmed up a bit, we’ll do some leg stretches.”  Nina proceeds to demonstrate how to do a leg stretch. She first leans to the left and then to the right.  My body protests at being dragged into this unnatural position and I ache to do some actual running. 

Finally, the coach directs us to follow him.  Some cross-country courses are all roads but here in my town, we have an off-road course next to a lake.  We start off on the gravel parking lot at the entrance.  Once we cross its entirety, we enter a path into the woods that is so narrow that only one person can run at a time. The trees are so close, we can barely see sky except as patches through the canopy of leaves.   It’s like being in a different world which is exhilarating. There are rocks here and there and roots of the trees that line the path.  I catch a chipmunk darting across the path. My sneakers are knock off Nikes and I can feel each rock and root under my feet. This is more strenuous than I anticipated. I stop to catch my breath and see Nina staring at me, a smirk on her face. 

“Cross country isn’t for the faint of heart,” and then she dashes off, her braid like a whip.  The coach sees and asks me if I want to go back or go on.  I think of my cousin and what a kick it will be to see him at a meet. I plug on.  After we run about three quarters of a mile through the woods, it turns out we’ve circled back onto the gravel parking lot.  We cross back through it to then climb up a hill festooned with pine needles which are slippery and challenging to make progress.  It is almost harder to run on than the narrow footpaths of the woods. 

I can hear my labored breathing, and it reminds me of the initial evenings with Kieran and his own heavy breathing that day when things changed.  Nearly six feet tall, with a thick head of dark hair and a newly grow- in beard that made him look older than other seniors, he was seriously cute.   After putting puzzles together of trains and lighthouses, where my arms would cross over his and vice versa, he asked me to sit in his lap. I thought it was a strange request but because it was strange, I was curious and acquiesced. 

When I felt him get heated as I sat upon him, and his breath quickened, I felt a sense of glory and power.  No longer was it me looking at him from afar but now he looked at me and saw me. 

*

Once we ascended the pine needle hill, we got to run down it and although one would think this would be easier, in many ways it was harder.  I had to make sure I had purchase on the bed of needles, or I’d go tumbling down and could land in the lake which was just a few feet away from the bottom of the hill. The lake wasn’t large, but I couldn’t see across and at this time of year, I couldn’t see to the bottom either. Once we got to the bottom of the hill, which was about half of the course, the coach ended the practice with Nina leading off with cooling exercises. He passed out waters, told us when the next try out was, and we left.

Nina, surprisingly, caught up with me. “You stuck with it; I didn’t think you would.  Some people give up at Pine Hill.  Next time, if you want to pace yourself alongside me, I can give you tips.”  This was surprising and I wasn’t sure if that was what I wanted.  But then again, why not? After several more practices, pacing myself alongside Nina, running became more natural. I also became hungrier. I really didn’t want food or anything to have any importance. But I needed strength to make the team. To surprise Kieran. And others. 

Eventually, my legs start getting more toned and my breasts firmer. Kieran remarks upon it though in not an admiring way.  He tells me that he won’t be able to come over and babysit me much longer as he will have cross country practices and meets to attend to. I smile small and say nothing.  He tells me, too, that he has a girlfriend as well. 

“I thought I was your girlfriend,” I say to him as I straddle his lap. 

“You’re my cousin not my girlfriend,” he says to me, pushing me off. “This has probably gone on long enough. Our mothers wouldn’t be happy.” He adds.

“Who cares what our mothers think,” I say to him but not worrying as I know he will not be able to elude me. “Would you prefer to put together another puzzle?” I take a Twizzler from the package he always carries and tease him with it. 

*

The next day at practice, I pace myself with Nina.  After I follow her down the pine needle hill, the next phase of the course is the shore of the lake.  We follow its stretch until we get to a peninsula. The beach is lined with small pebbles and stretches of pale green algae.  After we circle the peninsula, we are at a beach again and the course ends back in the graveled parking lot.  There are geese at this part of the lake, and they squawk in protest as we pass them by. 

Once we get to the end, the coach presents us all with our new uniforms. I didn’t realize I had made the team.   The uniform is comprised of a sleeveless green and white striped top with an arrow emblazoned on the front.  The shorts are forest green and fit snugly. There are even green and white striped socks. I’m not sure what I expected. 

My mom is surprised and pleased. She had no idea. She wasn’t aware of me as me.

At our first meet, we gather in the girl’s locker room and hydrate. As I exit, I see the boys leaving their locker room.  Kieran sees me, stops, and then his face flushes with anger. He turns away.  

He will get used to the idea.

*

When the starting gun goes off, I am startled but soon fall in behind the other runners. I try to pace myself with Nina, but she leaves me far behind. That’s okay.  After the meet, the boys and girls team hang out together. I see Nina talking to Kieran. He looks over at me.  He doesn’t look like the cousin I know. 

He stops coming over to the house. He is obviously with Nina. Other boys from the team talk to me. He sees this. I see him seeing this.  I wait. Nina takes me to a concert with her and Kieran when she finds out I have never been to one.   She offers me sips from her flask of Southern Comfort, but I say no. I want to keep all my senses alert.   Another time she invited me to a party after one of the meets.On the porch of her house, (her parents are away), Kieran approaches me and asks me what the fuck I’m doing.  I smile small and take a sip of Southern Comfort. It is comforting after all. I hear owls hooting in the trees near Nina’s house which borders the lake. The sun gives the appearance of resting at the edge of the lake. It looks almost like a postcard. I look around for Kieran but he is gone.  I’m happy with that. I’m happy.