Pulse

the field in the finals of their decathlon. Liz shook her head, amazed at the turn of events.
    “I didn’t expect to see Wade and Clara Quinn in the finals. I had no idea they were this talented.”
    “They’re in all the news feeds right now. Everyone’s talking about the twins from the outside.” Noah was scanning through news on the Field Games as he talked. “How well did you know them? You think you could get an autograph?”
    Liz didn’t have a clue how to even find Clara or Wade, and she definitely didn’t want anything to do with them. “Honestly, Noah, they’re both class-A jerks. I hope they lose today.”
    “Really? Everyone is totally into them. They seem so cool.”
    “Trust me on this one. I went to school with them, and they treated everyone else like nobodies. They don’t care about anyone but themselves.”
    As they were talking, one of the athletes started jogging up the track in their direction. A roar of cheering rose along their route, and the athlete waved, smiling.
    “Speak of the devil,” Noah said, standing up since everyone in front of them was doing the same thing as Clara Quinn approached. To Liz’s surprise, Clara turned at the stands and walked fourteen rows up to where she and Noah were standing. Their seats put Noah right on the edge of the walkway; and when Clara stood next to him, he was awestruck.
    “You’re . . . wow, you’re—”
    “Tall?” Clara said, but it was more than that. In the morning light and the fresh air, Clara Quinn looked vibrant and powerful. Her newly cut hair was shorter than she’d ever worn it before. Her arms were ripped, and her broad shoulders cast a shadow across Noah’s face. She was easily six inches taller than he was.
    “You cut your hair off,” Liz said, suddenly starstruck herself as fans leaned in from every direction.
    Clara messed up the blond froth of hair on top of her head and shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “It was getting in my way, so I figured, why not? New home, new look, right?”
    “Sure, yeah,” Liz said, nodding nervously. Clara was bigger than life, much more intimidating to look at than she ever had been in the tiny world of Old Park Hill. On the world stage, Clara Quinn was more than holding her own. She was owning it.
    “Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and say I hope you enjoy the seats,” Clara said. “I’ll try not to embarrass you.”
    Liz couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “ You sent me the tickets? But why? We weren’t even friends.”
    “Really?” Clara said, crunching up her nose, which made everyone who could see her laugh. “I thought we were. My mistake, I guess.”
    Before Liz could find a better response, Clara was walking down the steps, signing Tablets with her finger on screens being held out to her. Everyone kept asking Liz what she knew about the twins. Were they supercool? Were they like normal people? How did they get so good at these events outside the State?
    Liz mostly ignored them until the first event was called and everyone sat down, focused on the men’s running finals that were about to take place. Before the first race began, the president of the Western State stood up, along with a group of dignitaries. He waved to the crowd from his box seat, which sat directly across from the seats Liz and Noah were in. Everyone stood, saluted, and began to sing.
    “The president is sitting right there,” Noah whispered into Liz’s ear. “Like a hundred yards away. This is crazy cool.”
    Liz was glad she’d made Noah so happy, and she was excited to be there; but her heart also ached for her best friend. If Faith had been inside the State, there was no doubt Liz would have asked her to attend, not Noah. Faith would have understood about Clara and Wade. They would have had a good time cutting them up behind their backs, talking about old times. They would have laughed a lot. Noah put an arm around Liz as the music concluded and pulled her in close.
    “Let’s get this party started!” he said, all smiles and good cheer.
    The first few races blew by in heats of seven runners. Liz and Noah were positioned straight across from the finish line, where the runners were at maximum speed. These were superathletes of the highest caliber, people who had dedicated every ounce of their existence to training for the Field Games. The rules allowed for a maximum of ten competitions, and the year a competitor began was the starting gun. It didn’t matter if they took four or