Surviving High School

did it mean if Sara—the Machine—turned out to have been human?

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Halfway through her 10K run the next morning, Emily was starting to regret going to Ben’s party. What was the point in trying to get together with a cute guy if she collapsed and died of a heart attack by the side of the road before she even got a kiss?
    “You’re almost a minute over your usual time at the 5K mark!” her father shouted from the driver’s seat of his car. On Saturdays, he liked to drive at her side as she ran her circuit through sleepy suburban neighborhoods. “I sure hope you’re planning to pick it up in the back half of the run.”
    “When’s the last time you even ran a mile?” Emily said under her breath.
    “What’s that?” her dad barked. “I couldn’t quite hear you.Sounds like you’re a little winded!” He reached over to his CD player and switched it on. “Maybe this will fire you up.”
    “Dad, no,” Emily said, her lungs burning as she tried to speed up her pace. “Please don’t. It’s way too early in the morning for this.”
    “Too late!” her dad said, smiling gleefully.
    A few seconds later, the national anthem started playing.
    “Please stop,” Emily said, barely able to talk and breathe at the same time.
    “You’ve got to visualize!” her dad shouted. “You’re on top of the Olympic podium, the flag unfurled behind you… and then ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ starts blasting from the stadium’s speakers!”
    “This isn’t… helping,” said Emily. Her legs felt like jelly as each step of the run sent a shock wave through her aching muscles.
    “Out in the crowd are the girls you beat. The Brazilians, the Australians. The Canadians! Yeah, that’s right. We’re not listening to ‘O Canada,’ Em. Those are the Stars and Stripes hanging at your back. That’s our anthem playing!”
    She tried to ignore the blaring music and the pain and sleepiness. That’s what Sara would do: Fight through it all and find a way to speed up and beat her usual time. Sara would find a way to win.
    And then Emily remembered: “Your sister had… a boyfriend.”
    The sentence sat in Emily’s gut like a stone she’d swallowed and couldn’t digest. She needed to find out moreabout this supposed boyfriend, preferably soon. Suddenly, every conversation she’d had with the upperclassmen had taken on a new shade of meaning. Phil had mentioned knowing Sara, and Samantha claimed to know about some kind of secret boyfriend—but it was Cameron Clark who kept talking about Sara. When Emily had told him that Sara had never mentioned his name, he’d seemed so—disappointed.
    “Dad,” she said, “did you ever see any guys hanging out with Sara?”
    “What?” he asked. “I can’t hear you!”
    “Maybe turn the music down a little?”
    He shook his head. “In the middle of the national anthem?” He turned the volume up. Maybe it had been pointless to ask, anyway. Emily had a feeling he’d chosen not to hear on purpose.
    “… And the rockets’ red glare,” her father sang along with the car stereo, “the bombs bursting in air!”
    She couldn’t stand it anymore. Emily quickened her pace, almost sprinting as she tried to get as far away from him as possible.
    “Yeah!” her dad exclaimed as he accelerated to catch up. “That’s the spirit!”
    That night, Kimi came by for their monthly sleepover. She unpacked her never-to-be-mentioned-to-anyone-on-pain-of-death Hello Kitty sleeping bag as Emily sorted through her friend requests on Facebook, trying to figure out whichpeople she actually knew. Kimi kicked off her shoes and flopped facedown on Emily’s bed.
    “Uh, so, sorry about last night,” said Kimi, avoiding eye contact.
    “No problem. I got a ride home from Samantha,” said Emily as her cursor hovered over Zach Reynolds’s friend request. They had played Never Have I Ever together. Technically, that qualified as a kind of friendship, right? She hit Accept.
    “Kimi, I know this might sound weird, but have you ever heard any rumors? Like, about my sister?”
    Kimi sat up and looked over at her.
    “About Sara? No. I mean, I doubt anyone would say anything to me. They know you and I are friends. Honestly, though, I don’t think there’s much to say.”
    “Yeah,” said Emily. “You’re probably right. Sorry I brought it up.”
    It doesn’t matter , she thought. I’m pretty sure I know who I need to talk to anyway .
    She imagined what it would feel like to