"You mean you're afraid to find out?" Lila challenged him.

Roger shook his head. "You don't understand. It's nothing like that at all."

His stubbornness surprised her, but she wasn't ready to give up. "Prove it," she demanded.

"I can't." He heaved a deep sigh.

Lila widened her eyes in disbelief. "You are afraid, Roger. And here I thought you were such a strong, forceful person. I'm disappointed in you, really and truly disappointed." Clucking sadly, she made a big show of her disapproval by sitting down and pretending to pout.

"Lila, wait!" he shouted. It didn't take long for Roger to make up his mind. He had everything to gain and nothing to lose by getting on the field that day. At the moment he meant nothing to Lila, but if he ran and won, or ran and at least beat Bruce Patman, there was a chance of changing that. He wouldn't have to run in the final race and risk his job; but if he had the honor of placing in the trials, it might help open Lila's eyes.

"You're right, Lila," he said, standing. "I should be in the race."

He raced down the bleacher steps, hopped over the short wire fence in front of the stands, and jogged over to Coach Schultz. "I'd like to run, sir," he announced.

Surprised by the late entry, the coach took off his cap and scratched his head. "That your running outfit, boy?"

Roger looked down at his faded army fatigue pants and red T-shirt. His decision had come so fast, he hadn't stopped to think about his clothing. The race was going to start any minute now, and there wasn't time for him to change into his gym shorts. But at least he was wearing his only pair of sneakers. "I'm ready," Roger announced. "Where do I go?"

Coach Schultz chuckled. Having had Roger as a student in gym class, he was well aware of his ability to run. On more than one occasion, he had attempted to get Roger to try out for the track team but had stopped pursuing the issue after Roger's repeated refusals. He wasn't sure why the boy was interested in running now, but the coach wasn't about to discourage him. "Take your mark in lane three, next to Patman," Coach Schultz said, pointing to the oval. "The race starts in five minutes."

Roger smiled. "Thanks, Coach. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," he said. "Good luck."

Back in the stands, Lila finally let out the laughter she'd been suppressing during her entire conversation with Roger. "Do you believe that guy?" she commented to Jessica and Cara. "I can't wait to see old Bugs make a fool of himself."

The girls joined in her laughter. "God, Lila, have you ever thought about becoming an actress?" Cara asked. "That was one of the finest con jobs I've seen in a long time. You even had me convinced there for a while."

"When you're on, you're on," Lila said, obviously proud of herself.

"Yeah, well your boyfriend stands as much chance of beating Bruce as I have of getting an A in chemistry," Jessica said.

Lila turned serious. "Don't call that nerd my boyfriend," she hissed. "Someone might believe you."

"I don't know, Lila," Jessica continued. "Maybe Liz ought to put in a few lines about you two in 'Eyes and Ears.'" She was referring to the gossip column her sister wrote for the school paper. "I think you'd make a lovely couple."

"That's enough, Wakefield," Lila said, her eyes shooting pure venom now. "It's just a joke, remember?"

Lila's words made Olivia's stomach churn. Perhaps more than anyone else, she knew how much Roger liked Lila and how hurt he'd be to find out that her interest in him was a sham. But Olivia was unable to raise her voice against the popular girl. Though Olivia was well liked by most of her classmates, Lila looked upon her and her unconventional ways with disdain, and Olivia knew that Lila wouldn't take anything she said seriously.

But Elizabeth had also heard enough from Lila, and she had no qualms about criticizing her. "You're cruel, Lila," she said, her normally pleasant voice taking on a sharp edge. "That guy really likes you."

"Hey, I was only trying to do him a favor. Seems to me you were begging him to get out there and weren't getting anywhere. Maybe you're just jealous I've succeeded where you failed?"

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it," Elizabeth went on. "The only reason he's out there now is because of you. What's going to happen when he gets off the field and finds out you were laughing at him all this time?"

"You're being too sensitive, Liz. Roger knows there can never be anything between us. We have nothing in common."

That was certainly true, Elizabeth thought. Roger had integrity, compassion, and warmth, and all Lila had was a pretty face and a fat charge account. But she left that unsaid. "Maybe I am being sensitive, Lila," she said, "because I know Roger, and you don't. But the one thing I'm glad about is that he's out there running. If I'm right, he's going to blow everyone off the field."

"Hey, Liz, how come you've become Roger's one-person rooting section?" Jessica asked.

"Because I believe in him, Jess."

"Well, what about Todd?"

"What about him?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Don't you believe in him, too? Or have you suddenly switched allegiance?"

"What are you talking about, little sister?" Elizabeth said in the exasperated tone she reserved for the times she lost patience with Jessica. She was only four minutes older than her sister, but at times like this she felt those minutes were more like years. "You know that nothing could come between Todd and me."

"So how come you're not cheering for him?" Jessica wanted to know. She pointed to the field.

This time it was Elizabeth's turn to be surprised. She followed her sister's gaze to the track, where Todd was doing warm-ups. Dressed in gym shorts and running shoes, he was obviously going to compete in the trials. Elizabeth stared at him openmouthed. "What's he doing there?"

"You mean you didn't know?" Jessica asked.

Something peculiar is going on here, Elizabeth thought. Although Todd was a fine basketball player, he had never before expressed much interest in running, let alone in this race. Her curiosity mounting, she continued to stare at him as he took his mark along with the other contestants.

Five.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Bruce Patman eyed Roger disdainfully. "I think you made a wrong turn, Roger. The freak show's at the circus down at the civic center."

Roger didn't answer, but took his place ahead of Bruce in the adjoining lane. Because it was to be a mile race, the runners would be making a staggered start. The longer he remained silent, the more Bruce teased him.

"This is a race for runners, not for water boys. Who said you could be out here?" Bruce turned to Mark Riley the captain of the track team. "Do you believe this, Mark?" he called out. "I guess this is what they mean by equal opportunity. Even bozos get to race."

Roger still said nothing. In a way he was glad Bruce was making fun of him. It gave him even more of a reason to try his best. This wasn't the first time Bruce had treated him this way-once he'd told Roger that the sweat shirt he wore in gym was so old it belonged in a museum-and he was sure it wasn't going to be the last time either.

"Hey, Roger, haven't you heard of running shorts?" Bruce went on. "Or are you embarrassed to show off your legs?"

"Patman, cut it out," Todd snapped from his lane. "We've all heard enough."

Bruce was in no mood for a lecture. "Look, Wilkins, this is none of your business. If the guy's heard enough, let him speak up for himself."

But as far as Roger was concerned, Bruce could talk till he got blue in the face. All he was doing was sapping his own strength.

On the sidelines, Coach Schultz paced back and forth, looking over the field. He had some good runners out there, but he was clearly worried. Having scouted some of the top runners from the other schools' track teams, he knew the boys from Sweet Valley were in for tough competition. No one from the school had won this race since 1956.

Elizabeth said to Enid, "Take a look at Coach Schultz. You'd think somebody died."

Enid nodded, her hair blowing across her forehead. "You'd look pretty grim, too, if your job was on the line."

"What do you mean?"

"Winston Egbert told me he'd heard the coach got chewed out by the school board last week. He thinks they might give Coach Horner the job of athletic director if no one from Sweet Valley places in the Bart."

"I don't believe it," Elizabeth said. As the author of the "Eyes and Ears" column, she usually kept a pretty close watch on happenings around the school, but this was news to her. "How could they do that? Coach Schultz is an institution."

"Even institutions can crumble," Enid noted. "You have to admit the guy is getting old. Could be they want new blood around here."

"I've got to check into this. Maybe John Pfeifer's heard something."

"It'll have to wait," Enid said, noticing the coach approaching the microphone set up next to the starting point. "I think the race is about to begin."

"Good morning, students and faculty." Coach Schultz's deep baritone pierced the air. All conversation seemed to stop at once. "Welcome to the trials for this year's Barton Ames Memorial Mile. As you know, this race honors a very fine young man who died before his time, a young man who loved to run as much as he loved life itself. His parents founded this race to give other young men a chance at bettering their lives. The winner and two runners-up of today's race will go on to the finals next week, competing with some of the area's top athletes for the first-prize trophy and scholarship to Sweet Valley College. It's my privilege now to introduce to you the boys who are competing this morning. In lane one we have Mark Riley; lane two, Bruce Patman; lane three, Roger Barrett; lane four, Todd Wilkins; lane five, Peter Sorley; lane six, Tony Esteban. May the best man win. Runners take your mark ... get set-" Coach Schultz gave a short, shrill blast on his silver whistle, and the six boys took off.

Like a jackrabbit, Bruce Patman shot to the front of the pack and took the lead, snickering visibly as he passed Roger in the lane next to his. Mark sped up behind him, a close second, followed by Tony, Todd, and Peter, with Roger pacing himself behind them all.

Lila chuckled. "Look at old Bugs. It'll be a miracle if he makes it around even once."

Right below her, Elizabeth looked at the field with mixed emotions. Naturally she was rooting for her boyfriend, but it was almost as important to her that Roger place as well. She wasn't sure why Todd was out there, but of all of them Roger needed the scholarship most. It would be nice, she thought, if he and Todd could tie for first.

But at this point it didn't look as if either one would even qualify. Bruce Patman was way in front, striding like a gazelle, a picture-perfect example of high-speed running. His nearest competitor, Mark Riley, was a good ten paces behind, and the strain of the race was already showing on his lean, narrow face. The others were trailing, and as they reached the half-mile point, they were stretched single file in a curve that spanned a full quarter of the track.

Bruce was supremely confident as he looked back and surveyed the field. He was an expert runner who would have been the star miler on the track team if the schedule hadn't interfered with his first love, tennis. There was no way anyone could beat him now, he felt. Mark's specialty was the 440; so it was doubtful he'd finish with a spurt, and none of the others was nearly as fast. Even Tony Esteban didn't stand to catch him. At this point Tony was third, and even though he was known for coming on strong at the end, he was so far behind Bruce that he'd have to run his best time ever to beat him. Besides, Tony's strong point was his stamina in races far longer than this one. He was racing more because of pressure from Coach Schultz than because he thought he would win. Todd, Peter, and Roger were unknown quantities, but they didn't look as if they posed any threat.

But as they were approaching the three-quarter mark, Roger began to pick up ground, passing Peter and Todd. He was running faster, his speed pushing his straight hair off his face. His arms and legs were working now with the precision of a locomotive engine, pumping ever harder as he circled the track and closed in on the leaders.

It wasn't long before he passed Mark Riley, who was tiring and beginning to slow down noticeably. Then he passed Tony. That left only Bruce. But Bruce's advantage only coaxed Roger to move faster. Using all the power he had within, he stepped up his already lightning-quick gait. For every stride Bruce took, Roger was now taking two.

His progress didn't go unnoticed in the stands, and several crowd members began to chant his name and root him on. The loudest cheers came from Olivia, who was thrilled to see Roger finally get the attention he deserved. She was proud of him, as proud as any girlfriend would be. Even though their relationship was purely one of friendship, Olivia hadn't given up hope that someday Roger would notice the romantic side of her. There were a couple of times in the past when she felt he'd come close to asking her out, but he always seemed to back away as if he'd lost his courage. Maybe, she thought, this race, no matter what its outcome, would build up his confidence. She couldn't wait to find out.

Lila, who hadn't bothered to pay much attention to the race up to this point, suddenly began to take notice as Cara reached over to tug at her arm. "Look at Bugs go! Do you believe it?"

"What Bugs?" Jessica asked rhetorically. "He looks more like Speedy Gonzales now." The newfound reverence in her voice was unmistakable. "He's fantastic, Lila. Kind of sheds new light on things, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Lila asked.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? The boy who wins this race is going to be pretty popular around here. It wouldn't hurt to be seen with him."

"You can't be serious, Jessica."

"Why not? Have you ever really looked at Roger? He's not so bad-looking. So what if his taste in clothing leaves something to be desired? Nobody's perfect."

The race now appeared to be Roger's for the taking. Even Coach Schultz, who thought he knew how fast Roger was, let his silver whistle drop from his mouth as he stared in astonishment at the boy. Roger caught up with Bruce as they rounded the final turn. Bruce was so shocked to find someone at his side that he almost stopped dead in his tracks. A large part of the stadium was now rooting for the underdog, shouting, "Roger! Roger! Roger!"-which only added to Roger's momentum. Bruce's earlier optimism was gone, and even as he struggled to keep his pace, he knew the race was not going to be his. Roger quickened his steps, put in a final burst of speed, and crossed the finish line several seconds ahead of Bruce.

The crowd went wild, the cheering and stamping reverberating throughout the entire campus. Olivia and Elizabeth hugged each other in happiness, while Jessica, Lila, and Cara began to join the others who were heading toward the field.

The stunned boy didn't know how to react. Panting heavily, he looked back at the crowd blankly, wondering what to do next. Bruce slipped across the finish line in second place, his head bent in anger and disappointment, and turned toward the locker room without congratulating the winner. The other racers were more gallant, however, and showered their congratulations on Roger, eventually hoisting him on their shoulders way above the approaching crowd.

As his shock faded, Roger began to enjoy the glory, waving his appreciation to his fellow classmates. For the first time in his school career, he felt like a somebody, and he wanted to take advantage of the attention for as long as possible. It was as if he felt that at any moment it would all disappear.

Right after the boys lowered him back down to the ground, someone grabbed him and began to hug him tightly. The slender arms and wavy, light brown hair belonged to a girl, but at first he didn't know who it was.

"Roger, you were unbelievable!" she shouted. The voice was familiar. Could it be? "I've never seen anyone run so well. You were great!"

She loosened her arms a little, and Roger confirmed the fact that he was being showered with affection by the girl of his dreams. "Lila," he said with disbelief. "You're here. You're really here!"

"Where else would I be, Roger?" she said teasingly. "I told you I wanted to see you run. You didn't think I'd miss being at the finish line, did you?"

"Well, no," he said, groping for words. "I-I guess the whole thing is still like a dream to me."

"Then it's time to wake up, Roger. 'Cause I'm very much alive and here." Taking hold of a strand of his hair, she brushed it gently behind his ear, letting her fingers tickle his lobe enticingly for a brief moment.

Roger was speechless. Meanwhile, the crowd around him swelled. "Well, I'd better leave you to the rest of your fans. See you around, Rog." Lila blew him a kiss and then disappeared into the crowd.

Roger didn't have time to think about her as he was overwhelmed by well-wishers. Another girl hugged him, but this time the touch suggested only friendship. "Congratulations, Roger," Elizabeth said. "I knew you could do it."

"Thanks for having faith in me," he answered. "It helped to know there were a few people out there pulling for me."

"A few? Didn't you hear the crowd? You had the whole school behind you."

"Really? I figured there were a lot of people who wanted Bruce to win."

"Believe me, there were plenty more who wanted to see him lose. Face it, Roger, you're a hero."

"Do you know anyone around here who gives hero lessons? I've never played the part before."

"Just be yourself. The rest will come naturally."

Coach Schultz caught Elizabeth's words as he gave the star runner a big bear hug. "Natural, you bet. My boy, that was the best piece of running I've seen since Jack Ralston won the Bart in fifty-six."

"Thank you, Coach."

"Thank you nothing. The thanks are all mine, my boy. You knew what you were doing from the word go. Keeping behind all those others, pacing yourself for the final stretch. I'm very proud of you, Roger. Why, just imagine what you're going to do when we put real running clothes on you. Of course, you've got to realize that your natural abilities will only take you so far. You've got some strong competition in the Bart, and from now until the race I plan to run you, Bruce, and Tony hard. That's my style, you know, and it's worked well for me. Unfortunately, I haven't had the talent to work with in recent years, but you boys are just what the doctor ordered. I'll see you out here at two-thirty sharp."

Two-thirty. That was the time he was due at work! All the excitement faded as Roger came crashing down to earth. He couldn't afford to take time off to run, let alone hours every day for practice. Jobs for teens in Sweet Valley were hard to come by, and more than once his employer had told him how lucky Roger was to have his job, especially since it now paid him fifty cents an hour over the minimum wage.

He had to tell the coach he couldn't run. "Coach Schultz-" he began tentatively.

The coach turned around. "No excuses, Roger. Practice is a must, and I'm not going to let anyone get out of it. Even a speedster like you."

"But, Coach, I-"

Coach Schultz gave Roger the once-over. "Listen, don't worry about a uniform. I won't let anyone from Sweet Valley go without. I'll have some racing shorts ordered for you. In the meantime, you can practice in your gym outfit."

"But, Coach..."

Coach Schultz had already begun to walk off the field, having said all he intended to.