When you’re a teenager you act like you’ve got it all figured out. You base your demeanour on every other teenager in your life and assume they have it all figured out so you have to act that way as well. What a crock!
When I was in high school I hadn’t experienced anything until it happened to me for the first time. I had no previous knowledge to draw upon to make important decisions. I didn’t know what being in a relationship was all about until I found myself in one and even then I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

I had screwed up. That’s all I really knew. I had ruined the only romantic relationship I had ever had. I had taken one of those firsts, falling in love with a girl the first time I saw her, and had built it up into a true connection only to tear it all down with deception.

I was sure that Pippa hated me. To her, I was now no one at all. I wasn’t even in that middle I knew and where I had felt comfortable. I was lower than that. I was no one at all.

I had walked away from the avocado house that night with nothing in my step. I could barely walk let alone run. And why would I run? I had nothing to run toward or nothing to run for. I would only be running away from something and wherever things were heading, I wasn’t in any hurry to get there.

I went home and was determined to hide in the safety of my room forever. I couldn’t even do that. I felt trapped so I snuck out and walked around. I walked back up around the Texaco and across the road to the burger joint. I didn’t stop anywhere or talk to anyone. Lights were out or went out as I walked.

I eventually found myself at the school and out by the track. I lay down on the gravel and stared up at the moon. Somewhere under the same moon, Pippa was fast asleep or crying herself to sleep or lying awake thinking of my betrayal.

I got up and started to walk the track. It was comforting because the track had been the location of some of my successes. I imagined Pippa off to the side with her guitar and playing and singing snatches from ‘Follow That Dream.’

Well, you gotta follow that dream wherever that dream may lead
You gotta follow that dream to find the love you need

Keep a-movin, move along, keep a moving

Got to find me someone whose heart is free
Someone to look for my dream with me
And when I find her I may find out
Just what my dreams are all about

I had tried to follow that dream. I had pursued Pippa until I was red in the face…literally, from a slap. But hadn’t I been her dream too? Hadn’t she told me she knew she loved me after that slap? Hadn’t she told me she never wanted to hurt me again and would lie or withhold the truth to that end? Why hadn’t it worked for me? I had withheld the truth but I knew that wasn’t right. I had told her the truth. Why wasn’t I still her dream? I remembered back to my first meeting at the avocado house and she told me sometimes she dreamed of a brighter future but she didn’t know how to get there. I had told her you gotta follow that dream. I knew I had also been the one to dash her dreams.

I began to run. All my instincts told me not to run. I had no reason to run. I ran regardless of any reason. The track stretched out before me where I knew the straight and true and what was around each corner. This was the only relationship I had now. Running was what I understood.

I don’t know how long I ran. The night seemed long and time didn’t move. I remember what Pippa had said when she had waited for me that evening. She had thought time had slowed down. That was how I was feeling as I ran laps that night. I was trapped in one loop of time that bore down on me and reminded me of how I had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me.

My mind cascaded away with regret and despair. Sometimes it would latch onto hope and I would think of a scenario that would win me back my girl. It was false hope. All of my notions hinged on her forgetting and forgiving. That wasn’t going to happen. There was no longer a shining future. I should have realized that shining things are not always bright and clean. Sometimes they’re a glistening sharpness like a knife that cuts away at you and wounds you.

I ran the track until I could run no more. I had felt this way before that night I had first become Steve Wilson. I had come to the track to run out my frustrations with my own stupidity. There I was again running to feel something. It didn’t work. The only thing I felt was empty and tired.

I went home and snuck back into my room. I don’t know how I managed to sleep. It was very early in the morning and I had been out for many hours. I shouldn’t have been able to sleep but the emptiness I was feeling extended to my mind and there was nothing there to keep me from slumber. If there had been dreams that night they had vacated my brain by the time I awoke.

I eventually learned from Ben the same story I had heard from Pippa. He was truly apologetic to me about mentioning to Pippa’s mother that he worked at the Texaco. I couldn’t fault him because none of my coaching had included the possibility of that topic. When it did come up and his mother had asked him to set Pippa up with Steve Wilson, all he could do was to say he would try. He had seen the confusion on Pippa’s face but he couldn’t say anything without betraying me. He had thought of coming by the station to let me know but he didn’t know what to say. He knew I was meeting up with Pippa that night and he had to let me find out from her. I probably would have done the same thing if I were him.

Ben had offered to cancel the drive-in evening. Pippa wouldn’t hear of it. Her determination to move on without me included going ahead with the birthday plans. She had explained to her mother she didn’t want to have Steve Wilson along because she didn’t know him. The truth was she was probably thinking back on our relationship and thinking she really didn’t know me. Ben also offered to me to cancel the date but I didn’t want to deny Pippa anything. It was her birthday and I wasn’t about to spoil it for her.

I had only asked Ben for one favour. I gave him my present for Pippa and asked him to wait until they got to the drive-in before giving it to her. I had written out a very short note in a card saying I was sorry and I loved her and I wished she would have a very Happy Birthday. The next time I saw Ben at the Texaco he returned the record to me. The gift wrap had not even been removed. The envelope had been opened, however, and apparently, she had read the note. The torn pieces of the card were also returned to me in the envelope.

Ben told me about the evening in detail. They had gone to the drive-in outside of town only a few minutes away. They had seen ‘Grease’ with Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta. Ben had enjoyed the picture and he told me how Pippa had appeared happy and showed no signs of the trauma of our break-up. That was small comfort to me.

It seemed Ben had enjoyed himself even more than Pippa. He and Sandra had hit it off and when he took her home, after dropping off Pippa, she had kissed him. I told him I was happy for him but secretly my insides were turning. Ben and Sandra had received the benefits of my Operation Drive-In and I was the one who was suffering. Ben didn’t even ask me to reimburse him for the cost of the evening as we had discussed. That was just as well because I didn’t really feel like paying for his happiness.

A week later, ‘Grease’ was playing at the Cinema in town. Ben had agreed to treat me in order to take my mind off my troubles. He had liked it so much he was sure it was the tonic I needed. We sat in the back row and Ben sang along to all of the songs. I hated the film. Here was the story of a summer romance that ended when school had started in the fall and Olivia’s character of ‘Sandy’ was miserable throughout the majority of the movie because her love interest was being a jerk. That story was too close to my own. I tried to have a good time and laugh while Ben was singing his heart out but inside I was crying out mine.

I wasn’t sure what to do with the Elvis record that had been returned to me. Pippa was the Elvis fan. A few days after Pippa’s birthday, on the sixteenth of August, was the one-year anniversary of Elvis’ death. I imagined Pippa was probably struggling with the remembrance of his passing. Maybe it had been providence she hadn’t opened the wrapping. The record would have been a too painful reminder of someone’s music she had loved and someone she had loved who had betrayed her.

I decided to play the album to honour Elvis’ death and honour the relationship I had had with Pippa. The first track on the first side stunned me. It was a song Elvis had performed on the Steve Allen Show in 1956 and had also recorded. The title alone should have been a warning to me, ‘I Want You, I Need You, I Love You’. Part of the lyrics reflected everything I had been feeling since Pippa had sent me away.

I thought I could live without romance
Until you came to me
But now I know that
I will go on loving you eternally

Won't you please be my own?
Never leave me alone
'Cause I die every time we're apart
I want you, I need you, I love you
With all my heart

I could see what Pippa liked in Elvis. This guy did have a song for almost every occasion. Listening to Elvis made me think of those times Pippa had sung to me. Hadn’t she first sung to me at the avocado house? I recalled how her quiet voice had crooned “We can't go on together with suspicious minds. And we can't build our dreams on suspicious minds”. Had that been a foreshadowing of things to come? How was that Widow of Elvis feeling at that moment? Her relationship to Elvis was the only one she had left.

I listened to the rest of the record. There was also a version of ‘Hound Dog’ from that same Steve Allen show and some interviews and comedy bits from other shows. I wasn’t really stirred by anything else on the album until the last track on the flip side. This was the duet that Elvis had performed with Sinatra on the television special Pippa had told me about. This was the reason why I had tracked down the album. It started off with Sinatra singing lines from ‘Love Me Tender’ and Elvis alternating with one of Sinatra’s songs, ‘Witchcraft’. I hadn’t been moved by their singing until Elvis joined Sinatra on the last refrain and they sang “For my darling, I love you and I always will”.

I completely broke down and cried. The record ended and skipped at the end waiting for me to lift the tone arm and return it to its cradle. I couldn’t bear to turn it off. That gap at the end of the record was a sad reminder to me that my relationship had also ended and I could let it keep on ending and skipping on into infinity or I could try to restart it.

I decided to keep on with my life and see if an opportunity presented itself where I could reconcile with Pippa. The summer rolled on and I continued working at the Texaco. The evenings were very lonely. I stayed away from Pippa’s work and she stayed away from mine. I would watch for her each day but she obviously took a different route home. I still enjoyed Ben’s company and I’d stay on some evenings and visit with him before heading home.

Ben and Sandra’s relationship blossomed. They went on other dates but never to the drive-in. Her parents weren’t about to let him go there without a chaperone or a third person in the car to keep things on the up and up. I offered to go with them but Ben didn’t think two guys alone with Sandra in a car were exactly what her parents meant by proper supervision.

I teased Ben once about his relationship with Sandra. I compared her to the character of Sandy in ‘Grease’ and asked if his romance was a summer fling like in the movie. He gave me a withering stare that suggested he wasn’t going to be a jerk like Travolta’s character in the movie or someone else he knew. I got the message.

When the summer ended, I left the Texaco. I didn’t want to work throughout the school year. I had been offered part-time work but I decided to pass on it. Rod stayed on at the station and did not return to school in September. He had been offered a manager’s position by the owner because the previous manager was going off on maternity. She had scaled back her duties over the summer by only working the daytime weekend shifts. I had never met her or the girl who worked the evening shifts when I was off.

Rod was quite happy to continue to work but my parents were not happy about it. Grade thirteen wasn’t compulsory but they had imagined Rod taking the extra year to prep for University. Rod had his own ideas. He had once told me he had his future ahead of him and he could also find a girlfriend if he wanted. The Texaco provided both. Rhonda was the girl that worked evenings on the weekend and apparently Rod would visit her sometimes when she was working that summer. She was attending the local college in the fall to study child care. Rod eventually introduced her to the family and I was happy for Rod. Anyone, in my opinion, who could tolerate my brother was okay by me; not that Rod would have sought out or needed my approval.

Starting school in the fall, that was my lot in life. I was surrounded by couples like Ben and Sandra at school and Rod and Rhonda at home. Pippa and I were only in one class together in the first semester. It was a creative writing course. She didn’t sit near me and she tried not to make eye contact but sometimes I’d catch her glancing my way. I, of course, was always looking in her direction. I was surprised the teacher didn’t call me on it.

I was sure everyone in the school knew about our break-up. I was also positive that everyone knew I was the reason for the relationship’s end. That’s another thing about being a teenager. You assume that everyone knows everyone else’s business or they do. I chose not to know or even care about most everyone around me. I was no longer in the middle. I was in a classification all my own.

Track started again in September and I turned up for the first practice. Marty and John Park were gone as well as Tom whom I had hardly known. I heard that the Park brothers went to different Universities in Toronto and competed against each other in track events. There were three senior holdovers I didn’t know very well in addition to the five of us who had joined in the spring after the Harrier. Of the juniors, only Ben and I had any competition experience.

Practices were dull without Pippa’s accompaniment or even her presence. With all of the running I had done throughout the summer, I found that my endurance in the distance run had improved. Ben was able to keep pace with me because he had kept fit through his own running to and from the Texaco and when he’d met up with me occasionally on the track. Ben and the track were the only ones who had stood by me and I knew where I stood with both.

It was about two weeks after school had started when I turned eighteen and my world changed in more ways than one. I went to the movies on my birthday with Ben. It was one of those dumb Cheech and Chong drug comedies, ‘Up In Smoke’. I had begged Rod to lend Ben his birth certificate because the movie had an ‘R’ rating. Rod refused but we took a chance we could get in. The guy at the cinema didn’t even ask to see Ben’s ID but me he carded. He was a little suspicious my birth certificate showed the same day and month on which we were seeing the movie. I still remember him saying “have at it man and Happy Birthday.” I wasn’t sure he really believed me but at least Ben and I were admitted. As I said, the movie was dumb.

Another big change occurred a couple of days after my birthday. At track practice that day was a new face. His name was Bastien Lavoie. I hated him the first time I saw him. Bastien with his perfect jet-black hair and French-Canadian accent was new to the school and I recognized immediately he was going to be competition for me on and off the track.

Every year one female and one male student who were going into grade twelve and had been studying French were part of an exchange program with a high school in Quebec City. For the school term, two families hosted the new students from Quebec and the corresponding families in Quebec hosted two of our own. Bastien Lavoie and Marie Tremblay were sent to us.

Let me say a little about Marie Tremblay because, frankly, I knew little about her. She was a brunette and very pretty. I think she knew it too. Every year there were always some guys in our school who would line up to drool over the new exchange female but in the past, the two students from Quebec City associated mostly with themselves. Things were a little different with Marie and Bastien.

Marie liked the attention that was fawned on her by the other males at our school. She played the innocent card a little too much to my way of thinking. She always seemed to be losing her way in the school and would find some male to escort her to wherever it was she was going. I don’t know what happened outside of school hours but I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her with a line of fellows trailing out behind her. Talk about diplomacy between provinces.

Bastien was only slightly different. I suspected he also knew how much he was admired by his host school female population. In his case, however, he always knew where he was going and a select female pack followed him. Unfortunately, Pippa became one of them.

I don’t know what Pippa saw in Bastien. Sure he had nice hair, to the point of perfection, and he was tall and athletic. Strip that all away and what did you have? His fluency in English was also flawless. He annunciated with such clarity that you were sure every word was hand selected for maximum effect. Why did a guy like that need to come to our school? If there was a committee at his Quebec City school who chose candidates, I’m sure he had impressed every one of them.

Did I mention he was a runner? Of course, he was. Mr. Perfection had to be if only to aggravate me. I guess it wasn’t true I had hated him the first time I saw him. I had seen him around the school for a week before he showed up at the track. I had sized him up in the school with his swagger and the jaw drops from every other girl in the school but I didn’t really care. I knew he’d be gone at the end of the school year like all the rest. Coming out to track was another thing altogether.

Apparently, Bastien had been a runner at his Quebec school and performed quite well for himself. Coach Russell was significantly impressed by his qualifications that Bastien was accepted immediately into our fold. He didn’t even have to run the Harrier like the rest of us. I would have thought his qualifications might have been just talk until I saw him run. He was fast. He was John and Marty Park fast and then some. That’s when I began hating him. Okay, maybe not then but it might have begun to ferment that first day he attended practice and built later on to full-blown hatred.

Bastien was fast but I knew in running there’s speed on the short distances and speed that lasts for the duration of a long race. I was resolved not to be bested by him. I’d not only been successful in the long relay, I’d been experiencing a form of long haul that entire previous year. I would not be challenged on my endurance.

Bastien would encounter Pippa in her French class. It might have been mandatory for him to attend but there was no grade in it for him. All of the exchange students were required to take grade twelve French for the conversation aspect. It was stimulation mostly for all of the other students in the class. I had taken French for the first two years of my high-school life and I felt no need to pursue it further. I wanted to be a writer or a teacher and I felt well qualified in my native English with no offence intended to Canada’s other official language.

I had soon begun to see Pippa in the crowd of followers in Bastien’s wake. I heard their whispers and murmurs. I heard their comments, “Oh that Bastien” or just simply “that Bastien” repeated like they were eyeing a pastry to be devoured. I soon began to refer to him as “that Bastard” if only to myself. Even Ben shared in the sentiment and soon began referring to him as “that Bastard” whenever we were griping together about that glorified eye candy.

I couldn’t believe Pippa was enchanted by that Bastard. I thought she was smarter than that and could see right past his visual trappings. Of course, I finally realized that was it. The jet-black hair was just like that of Elvis Presley. He had the side-burns of a sort as well. Elvis had that southern drawl and here was Bastien with an accent that was melting female students’ hearts down to butter. Chalking all of that down in my hatred column for him, I soon realized what I was up against.

Coach began slotting Bastien in starting positions for all races in our track practices. I wasn’t the only one who began to resent that Bastard. Ben and I were aligned together in our way of thinking against him and I knew some of the other members of our team were feeling the same. It didn’t help he was fast and showed up even our senior runners.

I channelled my hatred for Bastien into my gait. Coach didn’t use me in the short track practices but when Bastien began racing the half-mile and mile, I decided that there would be no passing me by. I imagined him with Pippa and running away with her and I was determined to keep pace, catch him, and leave him gawking after me.

That fall there was a West End competition. The All City usually consisted of the four in-town schools and the Catholic Secondary. The West End included only the two schools considered in the west end as well as Bayside, a high school just outside of town. Bayside was unique in that it was halfway between Belleville and Trenton and could be invited to competitions in either city. The distinction for the All City was that a high school had to be within the city limits to compete in that tournament.

There was no long relay set for the West End event. It had only been brought back for the All City that past spring and hopefully would happen again the following year. Our Coach had been advocating for it to become an annual event but knew it required a great deal of training. We would have to wait until the spring to see if the organizing committee would reinstate it again. We’d also have to develop a new team for that event because Marty and John were gone and Ben and I weren’t keen on Bastien becoming one of our ranks.

Bastien had the speed and he had his followers. It was ridiculous how the girls at our school came out to cheer him on. The rest of us didn’t have those kinds of groupies. I had had Pippa but it was a new year and I had no one in my rooting section.

Coach could foresee us cleaning up at the West End tournament with Bastien scheduled in all events. He outran anyone on our team in the short track speed events and soon Coach was eyeing him for the longer races as well. Bastien was always fast at the start and kept his lead throughout the shorter races. He wouldn’t let up and always had an even stronger finish.

Ben and I were, in my humble opinion, our team’s strongest long distance runners. We had been pace partners for the Park brothers and had proven ourselves in the long relay. Bastien had no experience with the longer sprints but Coach thought speed would win out. I didn’t care what Coach thought, I just wanted my chance to show him up and I wanted to show Pippa the lengths I would go to be back with her.

Around school, I began to see Bastien squiring Pippa around with her arm in his. That might have been my tipping point into full-on hatred for the guy. That had been me. I had worked that up into my relationship with Pippa. It hadn’t been Bastien who had put in the hours first being part of a larger group with Pippa and then moving into the smaller group which also included her cousin. I was hoping maybe he’d get slapped while I also harboured a notion to punch him in his face.

Pippa started coming out to some of our practices. She’d arrive with Bastien’s other followers but always sat off by herself or with Sandra. Sandra would attend sometimes and Ben was sure to perform better when he knew she was there. The cheering for Bastien was distracting. His admirers could be very raucous when he was running but he ate it up. He’d often grin and wave when he ran. I’d laugh to myself and imagine him doing that with a baton in his hand and striking himself in the head.

The first half-mile I ran against Bastien, being two laps around the track, was interesting. Ben, Bastien, and I all lined up together and when Coach blew his whistle, Bastien was gone and away. Ben and I kept even with each other and watched Bastien plow on ahead. The vocal encouragement from his boosters could be heard on the far side of the track. After completing the first lap, Ben gave me a look as if to ask which one of us was going to get around to taking on our Quebec colleague. There wasn’t a clear signal between either of us so we both decided to pour it on.

I had learned a lot from John Park during our time together on the track team. Leaving something in the tank was the greatest lesson both Ben and I had learned. With only a half lap to go, Ben and I easily caught up to Bastien and left him behind. Bastien’s cheering section took up the call but it didn’t translate well. Bastien fell further and further behind. Ben and I, without speaking, mutually agreed to cross the finish point simultaneously. By that time, the only praise coming from off the field was for Ben. Sandra was the sole voice of congratulation. I noticed as well that the remaining crowd had thinned out and even Pippa was gone.

“Good race, gentlemen,” Bastien said to Ben and I when he finally completed his lap. “Of course, I chose not to exert myself too much before the competition.”

I still wanted to punch him in his perfect face but that would have ended my running career. I thought a better insult was more in order.

“You’ve got the speed Bastien but you have to remember to always save something for the finish.” John Park’s words had felt like a criticism the first time I heard them but at that moment they felt right to me. It felt even better repeating them to that Bastard.