Page 12 of Don’t Call Me Son

I exhale through my nose, a low, possessive growl rumbling in my chest. You’re going to feel me watching you tonight, baby.

Chapter Six

Archie

The end of the day comes way too fast.

The stands are starting to fill up, parents and spectators trickling in from all directions. It’s a reasonably big event tonight; runners from every year group, lots of alumni, plenty of people ready to cheer and donate. The lights are on, music is playing low in the background, and the energy in the air is buzzing.

I refuse to look toward the stands; I keep my eyes glued to Coach instead. He’s standing in front of all of us in his usual power stance, arms crossed, giving us the usual pre-event speech.

“Alright, listen up. This isn’t just another training session. This is a showcase. I expect good sportsmanship, good behaviour, and sharp presentation out there. Especially you, final years, you never know who’s watching. Scouts, donors, press… eyes are on you tonight. Represent yourselves and this program properly.”

I’m only a second year, so the scout talk isn’t really aimed at me yet, but I know I’m good.

Coach claps his hands together. “We’re starting off strong. First heat of the 300m sprint: Archie, Mayla, and Rupert.”

My head snaps up. “Wait… what? Now?”

Mayla, a fast, confident third-year, laughs and walks over, throwing a sweaty arm around my shoulders. “You’re one of the best, kid. You’ve got this.”

I smile at her nervously. “Coach, I’d feel more comfortable if I wasn’t running against Mayla… no offence.”

Coach grins, clearly amused. “We’re mixing all the year groups tonight, Archie. Besides… I wouldn’t put you in this heat if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

I groan loudly, dragging a hand down my face.

Mayla squeezes my shoulder. “Hey, you’re opening the event, Archie. After this we get to chill for a bit until the relays.”

I reply with as much sarcasm as I can muster: “Yayyyy.”

The whole group laughs, amused at my weak protests.

I can feel the hype building in the air around us; nervous energy, adrenaline, and that electric buzz that comes with an event night.

…

The bleachers are full enough now; not completely packed, but plenty full for my liking. All the students are clustered to one side of the track, nerves and anticipation thick in the air.

Coach steps up with a microphone, the head of the sports department beside him.

The head speaks first, voice booming through the speakers: “Good evening everyone, and welcome to our Summer Showcase and Fundraising Night! We’re thrilled to see so many of you here supporting our athletics program. Tonight, you’ll see some of our finest athletes competing across multiple events. All proceeds from ticket sales and donations will go directly toward new equipment and track maintenance. So please, enjoy the show!”

There’s a polite applause. Coach takes the mic next, grinning. “Alright, let’s get this thing started! We’re kicking the evening off with a mixed-year three-hundred-metre sprint. Runners come on over.”

I groan loudly and lean toward Jay. “Dude… out of all of us here, I’m really gonna do the first heat?”

Jay grins encouragingly and pats my shoulder firmly. “Arch, you’ve got this, believe in yourself. Coach is waiting, man.”

I look over and see Coach waving the three of us forward.

Rupert falls into step beside me as we walk toward the starting line. “You’ve got this, bro,” he says, bumping my fist. “Let’s see how fast you can run.”

I laugh nervously as I step into lane one. I do a little jump on the spot and push out a big exhale, trying to shake the nerves out of my legs.

Then I hear it, loud and clear across the track, “Go Archie! That’s my baby!”

I groan and immediately cover my face with both hands. I still refuse to look over at the stands, but after a second, I drop my hands, shaking my head with a reluctant little laugh.