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The Everlasting Rainbow

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ROWAN

I couldn't feel my legs. The only thing I could feel was that they were painfully sore. I felt sweat dripping down the side of my face and my neck; it felt like I was in a hot tub with my head held underwater. My throat was burning. My throat was so dry that it felt like I hadn't had a sip of water for days. The sides of my vision were blackened, and everything I saw was blurry. I knew that I was about to faint, but I was trying so hard to remain conscious. I needed to finish. I had to.

I could see the outline of a large, red flag about a hundred meters ahead of me. Almost finished, I thought. I mustered the very last bit of energy left in my body into my legs, and I sprinted as fast as I could to that red flag.

After knowing that I had made it past the line, I walked over to the grass immediately and closed my eyes. Whenever you finish a race, you have to keep walking, my coach always told me. I continued walking, and I could already feel the relief of my muscles relaxing. After the crowd calmed down, I collapsed to my knees, only hearing the thump of my racing heart. The only thing that kept me conscious was the load roar of the crowd. I turned my head up to look at the bleachers and saw everyone cheering and waving at me. I turned around again to see my time on the huge electronic display. Two hours and 23 minutes. Wow! That was the best I had ever done! I looked back to the finish line to make sure that I was the only person who had finished the race so far.

"First place, Rowan!" I heard a voice yell with excitement. I spun around to see my coach, Joe, walking over to me with a water bottle in one of his hands. In the other, he was holding a damp towel.

"Your other teammate, Elaine, is nearing the finish line," Joe said, while handing me the water bottle and the towel. "Our team is going to be so recognized at the Boston Teen Marathon!"

"Yeah, I know! I also set a new personal record!" I told Joe. I downed the entire bottle of water and wiped my face with the cold towel.

"I think you set a new record for the Girl's Boston Teen Marathon too!" Joe patted me on the back in a fatherly manner. Joe had been my coach since I was eight. I'm 16 now, so he's been around for half my life. "I'm so proud of you."

I smiled and heard another voice yell behind me. "Hey, Rowan!"

Joe and I turned around simultaneously. I spotted a tall boy with somewhat broad shoulders walking towards us. He was approximately six-feet tall, and had messily styled white-blond hair and eyes that were a dark, chocolatey brown shade of colour. He was wearing a tight running shirt that defined his carved figure. A white sheet that read the number '336' was pinned onto it.

Joe chuckled. "I'll leave you guys to yourselves. I need to go help the boys get ready for their race."

Joe walked off toward some of the nearby sponsor tents, with a huge grin on his face.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" I asked the boy, looking up.

"I've still got time," the boy said, and shoved me lightly.

"I came in first place for my race," I said, with a smirk, boasting a bit.

"I'm not surprised, little sis. You've always been a good runner." He bumped his shoulder into me playfully and smiled.

That's right, this boy is my brother. His name is Keaton and he is 18, two years older than I am. Our birthdays are on the same day. We are really close for siblings, especially ones who are this close in age. Most get into fights all the time, but we've never even had a real argument before.

"My race is starting in an hour. You better cheer for me," Keaton said, as he sat down beside me.

"I will, even though you won't be able to hear me for most of the race," I said, as I gave him a hug.

"I know, but I just want to know that you will be."

When we broke apart, I realized something out of the ordinary. "You put on your contact lenses." I should have noticed this the moment we left our house this morning, but I guess I wasn't paying attention.

"Yeah, I did," Keaton said, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"But you hate them."

He shrugged. "I figured it would be easier for when I run."

"You don't even wear them when you practice."

Keaton began to respond, but was cut off by some girly screams. He looked behind him and chuckled. "Looks like you've got some fans."

I looked behind me to see a few young girls laughing and skipping over towards us. When they noticed Keaton, some of them froze and blushed. I laughed. Keaton's unnaturally good looks definitely throw people off sometimes. This wasn't the first.

"Oh my gosh! You're such a good runner!" one of the girls squealed.

"I want to run just like you one day! I get tired even when I run for only one kilometre," another said, with enough excitement for her to jump into space.

"Will you take a selfie with us?" the last girl asked, holding her phone out.

I laughed again. I thought it was funny that selfies were now replacing autographs.

I took a selfie with each of the girls and offered to follow them on Instagram. They all responded by screaming and nodding.

Just as the girls started to walk away, Keaton spoke up. "What about me, girls?"

They looked at each other hesitantly, communicating through their glances. We don't even know this person! But ...

When the selfies were being taken, each of the girls was blushing like crazy. Their cheeks reminded me of fresh, ripe tomatoes.

As they were walking away, I caught bits of their conversation. I could hear them say things like, "oh my gosh, he's so hot!" and, "I know right! Do you think he's Rowan's boyfriend?"

Keaton had clearly heard them too, because he laughed and shook his head.

"You really enjoy being attractive, don't you?" I asked jokingly. Keaton is good-looking and very smart. He would make anyone's dream boyfriend.

"Very," Keaton replied with a smile.

"It's a wonder you still don't have a girlfriend." I meant it as a joke, but Keaton's smile dropped immediately.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "You know, I need to go get ready for my race."

"Alright! I'll cheer for you," I said, as he walked away.

It bothered me that Keaton seemed so upset after I teased him for being single. He could get a girlfriend so easily. Many girls at our school would kill to be with him, but it didn't really seem like he was ever interested.

After about forty-five minutes, the boys' race started. Keaton had a good start, starting off with a steady 10th place position.

"Go, Keaton! You got this!" I yelled after him, cheering him on while jogging slightly to keep up.

Once I couldn't see him anymore, I headed into the building that was being used as the headquarters for the Boston Race Weekend. Inside, there were televisions playing footage from cameras that had been set up around the racecourse. I took a seat in an empty chair right in front of a screen that was mounted on the wall.

After the five-kilometer mark, Keaton ran past three people, still keeping his pace even. By the 15-kilometer mark, he had run past four more people. By the 30-kilometer mark, Keaton was well ahead of everybody, except for one. The person had the number 36 pinned onto the back of his shirt.

Just as Keaton was about to pass Number 36, Number 36 somehow managed to stick his foot out beside him, catching it onto Keaton's foot, and tripping him.

KEATON

"Crap." I felt a sudden jolt of pain go up my leg and my hands were covered in small pebbles.

I heard Number 36 laugh as he ran ahead of me. I felt my body build up with rage, and tried to stand up. As soon I put my weight on my right foot, I felt another jolt of pain go by my body, making me fall back to the ground. Damn it. A sprained ankle. Ouch.

I turned my head and saw that no one was immediately behind me. Good. I tried standing up again, this time being extremely cautious of the amount of weight I was putting on my right leg. I could barely walk, and that most definitely meant I couldn't run either.

Then I got a crazy idea: maybe galloping would work. I tried galloping lightly. I barely felt anything, so I sped up my pace. It was almost faster than running! Every time my right foot touched the ground, I instantly switched to my left foot. I saw Number 36 ahead of me, only about 30 metres away. It looked like he had slowed down a little. He probably thought that I wouldn't be able to run anymore. Well, that was true, but I could still compete by galloping, and I caught up to him in no time.

"Hey! How's it going?" I asked jokingly between breaths.

He shot me a look of anger and surprise.

"What the heck?! How did you even get here?" he asked, as he started to speed up his pace again.

"I don't know, how did I get here? You tell me," I said to him, as I started speeding up too. I love replying to questions with questions. It tends to make the other person feel confused and annoyed, and sometimes quite uncomfortable.

"You jerk," Number 36 said, as he tried to land another attack on me. But this time, I was prepared. I jumped out of the way of his leg as soon as he held it out. This caught him completely off guard, making him lose balance and awkwardly fall to the ground. I heard a loud thump, a scream of pain, and a lot of cursing.

I looked back for a second and grinned. He kind of deserved that. I did feel a bit bad for him, because he seemed to be in much more pain than I was when I fell. Then again, this guy had tripped me, sprained my ankle, and didn't care at all. He just laughed. On second thought, I didn't really feel bad about it at all.

After running for a while, I felt myself getting tired. Both of my legs were throbbing, especially my left one. But I had to keep going. I started to hear some noises other than the sound of my own feet thumping against the pavement. Voices, cheers. I spotted a flag a few hundred metres ahead of me. Almost done. I galloped faster, as fast as I could. I didn't even know I could go this fast. If I could gallop this fast when I was so tired, I wondered how fast I could gallop if I was fully charged with energy.

My head was spinning, and my eyes started drooping.

I heard a huge roar from the crowd. Did I pass the finish line? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that I was exhausted. I limped over to the grass and sat down.

"Keaton!" I heard a voice yell. I looked around and saw a girl waving at me. My sister, Rowan, walked towards me and gave me a hug. I flinched a little, reminded by my sprained ankle.

"Oh, sorry," she said, eying my ankle. "Did you see your time?"

I turned around, ignoring my headache. The large electronic display showed my race time. Two hours and nine minutes. Literally 20 minutes faster than my personal best.

"Crazy, isn't it?" Rowan said. She looked at me and smiled. She still had her wavy, chestnut-coloured hair tied back in a ponytail.

It's odd how Rowan has chestnut-brown hair and light blue eyes, while I have white-blond hair and dark brown eyes. We've never met our parents before, because our father left our mother and me a year or so after she had me, and our mother passed away while giving birth to Rowan. We now live in a foster home, with a middle-aged woman who is a drug addict and an alcoholic.

Her name is Macy. Rowan and I rarely see her, because she's usually out at a club or something of the sort. She doesn't care for me and Rowan at all, and is going to court in a few days for injuring a pedestrian while drinking and driving. At least that's what I think she said. Most of the time she's not at home, and when I spoke to her the other day for the first time in weeks, she was extremely drunk. I never understood why she wanted us in the first place.

"Yeah," I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a few people rushing over to me, including Coach Joe.

"Are you okay, Keaton?" Joe asked me.

"I'm fine," I replied, feeling confused.

"Is your ankle alright?" a man holding a first-aid kit standing next to Joe asked. They took off my shoe and treated my sprained ankle.

"Good thing you didn't injure it too badly, unlike the other guy," said Rowan.

"The idiot that was in front of me?" I asked.

"Yeah. He actually broke his foot. He was really stupid for trying to do that to you again. He even got a penalty for tripping you in the first place." I must have had a worried expression on my face, because Rowan was quick to answer the question I was about to ask.

"Don't worry, you didn't get a penalty. You weren't the one that injured him, he injured himself by trying to trip you."

Someone came over to Joe, and they walked off together, talking about the race. After a few minutes, Joe came back, saying that he had some very exciting news.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You guys both ... set a new record for the Boston Teen Marathon!" Joe exclaimed with joy.

"Sweet! So ... what do we get?" Rowan asked.

"I don't know yet, but that's why I came here to fetch you guys. We're going to head over to the ceremony right now!" Joe cried. His cap almost fell off his balding head from all the jumping he was doing.

He led us into the Boston Race Weekend headquarters and we each took a seat. The ceremony only went on for about fifteen minutes. Rowan and I were each awarded with a trophy, a certificate, some money, and a chocolate bar. When we were heading over to Joe's trailer, all our other teammates congratulated us for both winning and setting new records.

We all hopped into the trailer and took our seats. The girls sat on one side and the boys sat on the other. Another road trip back to Montreal.

"You guys should all take a rest in the van, you gotta make sure you have enough energy to wake up for school tomorrow!" Joe said, punching my arm lightly.

Ugh.

I hate school.

ROWAN

"Rowan! Are you on page 336 of the textbook, 'Mythical Creatures'? Chapter 18?" a voice grunted angrily. I opened my eyes lazily and tried to prop my head up with my arm.

"Huh?" I muttered, rubbing my eyes. Once my vision cleared up, the first thing I saw was my teacher, Mrs. Huntington, with creases in her forehead and a pair of squinty eyes, leaning against my desk.

"I'm taking that as a no. Rowan, you seriously need to stop falling asleep during class. School's almost over, so please try to behave appropriately through the last couple of days." Mrs. Huntington rolled her eyes and continued to do her work.

I heard some chuckling noises. I turned around and saw two boys, Jay and Rohan. They've always been the class clowns. They hit on girls all the time, including me. I think Jay is cute, but I have never actually been interested in either of them. In fact, I haven't really been interested in anyone. I've never had a real boyfriend before.

"So, what page are we on again?" I whispered to a girl to my left, named Jenny.

"Page 336. You should probably read 'An Interesting Story That Took Place During The War' as well. Mrs. Huntington told us to, before you fell asleep," Jenny replied, pointing at her book with a painted nail.

"Okay, thanks." I flipped open my book with the tiniest tinge of annoyance and started to read.

Mythical Creatures | Chapter 18 | Page 336

168 years ago, there was a war between the centaurs and the leprechauns. The war started over a bottle of blood. It was a special bottle of blood that belonged to the king of leprechauns, Donavin. It was said that if a human drank from it, he would live for eternity. The king of centaurs, Bruce, wanted to take that bottle of blood and share it with his people, because leprechauns were immortal, but centaurs were not. Even though centaurs could live for centuries, Bruce was extremely jealous of the leprechauns because of this. He successfully killed Donavin in leprechaun headquarters and took the bottle from him, but Donavin's guards captured and killed Bruce before he could get away. That is how the war between the centaurs and leprechauns started, and it continued to go on for five years.

Leprechauns are vulnerable to the cold, a characteristic that directly opposes the centaur's main vulnerability. Any climate that has a temperature lower than 30 degrees Celsius can be very lethal to a leprechaun.

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Excerpted from The Everlasting Rainbow by Kat Nightingale. Copyright © 2015 Kat Nightingale. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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