Ethan caught her gaze, smirked, and gave a casual wave. Zara's stomach flipped.
And then, of course, Noah whispered, "Oh, you definitely have a crush."
"Saved a seat for you Castillo," he said with a downward smile on his face. "Figured you'd be here late. And you love being at the front."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to leave Noah by him—" Zara began, but she got cut off by Noah.
"No, no. Go ahead," he smiled sheepishly, and then whispered to Zara, "Don't you want to be with your crush?"
"He's not my crush," she responded through gritted teeth.
"You can't be late and still be causing a commotion," the teacher said, giving them a glare that could have frozen hell over.
"Sorry, Miss Penelope," Noah grinned.
++**+++
There was no training session today because Santiago Castillo had gone to train a bunch of college kids like he always did on Wednesdays. The sun was beginning to set when Ethan started his walk home from school. He and Zara had their last class together, so he waved her goodbye, not wanting to ask her to walk home because she usually rode with Noah in his convertible.
The city was alive, and people were moving in different directions. The hot afternoon air was killing him, and he regretted not bringing his car to school. He never did so as not to draw attention to the wealth his family had—after all, most of it was illegal.
A few feet behind him, Zara was walking in the same direction, still lost in her thoughts. She wanted to walk up to him, but he didn't seem to notice that she had been following him since after class ended. She was curious about him, and that was the reason she chose not to go home with Noah since his dad was not around.
Just as she decided to call out to him to wait, she caught a glimpse of a toddler, barely old enough to walk steadily, who had wandered away from his mother. The child giggled, stepping onto the street—completely unaware of the motorcycle speeding straight toward him.
Everything happened so fast that it was almost incomprehensible. One second, Ethan was several feet away, only a few steps in her front, and the next second, he wasn't. Rather, he was at the other end of the street with the child safely in his arms.
The motorcycle rushed past where the boy had just been, the driver yelling in shock but unable to stop the speeding bike. The mother of the child screamed, running toward her child, completely unaware that Ethan had taken the child. But then she stopped, looking around for her child and then gasped in gratitude, rushing over to Ethan.
"Thank you so much," she cried, taking her child from Ethan's hand.
The pedestrians nearby murmured in confusion. No one seemed to understand how Ethan had gotten there so fast. Then there were murmurs of people talking about the fact that he looked like the national champion.
Zara knew he was the national champion, and that Ethan Moreau was fast.
But no one was that fast.
****
Zara couldn't let it go this time around. She replayed the moment in her head, over and over, like a scene from a film she couldn't pause. The way Ethan had disappeared from one spot and reappeared in another. He had zoomed faster than a bike, irrespective of the cars coming—they couldn't stop him. Then there was the effortless way he had plucked the toddler from danger and still moved fast enough for the bike not to hit the two of them. No, it didn't make sense.
No human was that fast. Not even him, who had run an 800-meter race in a minute and forty-two seconds.
At first, she told herself she had imagined it. That adrenaline had played tricks on her. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized there was no logical explanation. And Zara Castillo did not like mysteries she couldn't solve.
****
The next morning, Zara woke up with a new mission, which was to pay closer attention to Ethan to figure it out. She didn't even know what she was supposed to figure out, or an idea of what it was that made him so fast, but she knew that he was hiding something, and she was going to figure out what it was.
Luckily, she had the perfect excuse to be around him. Her father was his coach, and no one would think it strange if she started hanging around his training sessions more often. She'd always been interested in track and races; she even ran cross country and was a state champion, but now, she had a different reason to be invested, especially in Ethan's training sessions.
When she arrived at the track, Ethan was already stretching. He looked completely normal, as if he hadn't casually defied physics the night before. Noah was standing beside him, cracking jokes that made Ethan chuckle.
She rolled her eyes at Noah, knowing that he rarely ever talked to Ethan except maybe they were in a class group together. She knew Noah was only trying to talk to Ethan for her sake—to try to get to know him and play Cupid like he liked to do.
She took her eyes away from Noah and focused on Ethan, who was stretching and still talking normally. She was so engrossed in it that she didn't notice Noah behind her until he wrapped his hands around her eyes.
"You're staring again," he whispered.
Zara startled, removed the hands from her face, and then turned to find Noah smirking at her. She rolled her eyes. "Aren't you meant to be at basketball practice?"
"Don't you have cross-country meets? But you're staring at Ethan."
"Not until six, it's still four. Plus, I'm observing."
"Uh-huh. Observing how good he looks in a tank top?"
She ignored him and kept her gaze on Ethan. When practice began, she moved closer to the sidelines, watching intently. Ethan started his warm-up laps, his strides were as good as if he were competing.
Her father stood a few feet away, stopwatch in hand, completely unaware of Zara's silent investigation. "Pick up the pace, Ethan," he called.
Ethan did, and something flickered in Zara's mind. He was fast. Insanely fast. But it wasn't just speed—it was the way his body moved, like he was barely touching the ground.
How did a human run without their feet ever touching the ground?