In each race, a dark-haired girl trailed them in fourth place. She was never a contender for one of the top three spots, but she kept trying to catch them. Between races, she sauntered among the group, tossing her inky black curls, her pale blue eyes taking in the crowd as she spoke in a loud voice clearly vying for attention. Louise knew the type: pretty girls who had everything yet still believed they were coming up short somehow and put on a big show to cover up their own shortcomings.
After several minutes the coaches separated Louise, Olive, and the blonde from Medford from the rest of their teammates. As if as an afterthought, the coach from Medford waved the fourth girl, the one with dark ringlets, to join them.
“You four have been the fastest. Let’s try a longer course around nearby Craddock Park,” said Coach Quain. “I’ve chalked the route with arrows so you’ll know exactly where to go. It’s an out-and-back course so watch for the tree with a white ribbon around it as your turnaround point. Touch it and come back.” He turned to the two girls from Medford. “Now, I know Louise and Olive, but what are your names?”
“Mary,” the freckled blonde answered.
“Rosie,” said the one with dark, shiny curls and full lips.
“Right,” Coach Quain said. “Now let’s do one more.”
Louise, Mary, and Olive appeared serious as they took their places on the chalked starting line, now blurry from all the other starts, while Rosie pranced around them impatiently.
And then they were off.
Once again, Louise, Mary, and Olive vied for the lead, racing side by side. Several yards behind them, Rosie’s heels pounded the packed dirt path.
Craddock Park came into view. The tree with the white ribbon neared and Louise reached it first, gave its bark a good smack, and turned. Olive trailed by only a second, but suddenly, from several paces behind, Rosie pivoted and turned without touching the tree. Now in the lead because of her early turn, Rosie darted ahead toward the finish.
What was Rosie doing? Louise faltered and the delay cost her. Olive took advantage of Louise’s confusion and moved in front as Mary pulled alongside Louise and the two girls exchanged wide-eyed glances.
Louise and Mary managed to catch Olive and they all dashed toward the final stretch into the park with Rosie still leading by several long strides. How dare Rosie take a shortcut! Indignation fueled a final burst of effort from Louise. Though it felt like her heart might explode from the effort, she bore down, trying to turn her stride over faster and faster to catch the girl. But it wasn’t enough. A roar of cheering erupted from their teammates as the racers barreled across the finish line. The Medford girls surrounded Rosie, heaping praise upon her, but Mary, her teammate, stood alone.
Their coach beamed in surprise. “Rosie Lawton, that was your best time yet. Guess you were saving a little something for the end, eh?”
She flushed. “I think I’m better with longer distances.”
Louise opened her mouth to say something about Rosie not touching the tree but then closed it, overcome by caution. She was the only black girl out there. How would it look if she accused Rosie of cheating? If there was one thing she had learned over the years of being one of the few black girls in Malden, it was to stay quiet. She glanced at Mary standing alone, hovering on the fringe of the group, her eyes downcast, arms wrapped around her narrow frame. Silent.
Why wasn’t she saying something about her teammate’s shortcut?
A few steps away from her, Rosie laughed at something before her gaze searched the group and found Louise. The two stared at each other, Rosie’s pale blue eyes flashing with smug satisfaction. Louise’s hands balled into fists. Her muscles still twitched from running. With the energy from the race still pumping through her, she wanted nothing more than to march over and smack the self-satisfied grin off the girl’s face, but she knew this was a terrible idea.
She turned away and bent over, resting her palms on her thighs, and tried to catch her breath, cool down. What else could she do?
Olive stepped forward from her cluster of Needham teammates. “That girl cheated,” she announced, raising her index finger to point at Rosie.
Coach Quain and the other two coaches looked back and forth at the girls in surprise.
Rosie huffed, “I did no such thing.”
The coach from Medford frowned. “Mary, is this true?”
All heads rounded in her direction, and she appeared to shrink once she was the center of attention. Rosie placed both hands on her hips and glared at her teammate. Mary blanched. “I . . .”
“Oh, come on,” said Olive, and she turned to Louise. “You saw her, didn’t you? She didn’t run all the way to the tree like the three of us did.”
Louise froze a moment before nodding her head.
Rosie’s eyes blazed. “Don’t be sore losers. I touched that tree.”
“She did not. She cheated,” Olive repeated. She lowered her chin as if preparing to pounce on Rosie.
“All right now, let’s not get ourselves worked up,” Coach Quain said, stepping between the girls.
“This is just a time trial,” the coach from Medford said. “You all ran well. I’m sorry you ladies got confused at the turnaround, but again, this was just for practice. No hard feelings.” He
