San Francisco. It was a very warm day for the February 14th. The afternoon with 65°F and sunny weather was a promising start for the upcoming spring.
Stanford University's Angell Field was bustling with activity. Football team on the lawn, dozens of athletes on the tracks, cheerleader group with their colorful pom poms as well – all that made buzzing sounds louder than a marketplace.
Near the entrance Nick was sitting facing the sun, eyes closed, with an open book in his lap.
"Stalking?"
The sudden shout startled him a bit, but then he recognized the speaker and gave a shallow laugh.
"What the hell Richard? Stop blocking the sun! Is your training over already? And what are you doing here?"
Richard, the current captain of the football team, still fully geared and his helm in hand was standing in front of the Nick's wheelchair like a small mountain.
"That should be my line." Richard said laughing while sitting down next to the youth, "Nick, be honest – did you come here to look for Cindy?"
"Not really. As if you don't know – it has been over a long time ago." Nick looked at the distant cheerleader squad, then his legs and pinched his thigh a couple times.
Nick and Richard had a strangefriendship. Up until the last year Nick was the captain and quarterback of the Stanford's football team and vice captain Richard considered him his greatest rival. But the rivalry was kind of weird since Nick's forte lied in speed and reaction, but Richard's – in strength. Nick was only 6,1 feet tall, but Richard – a 6,6 feet tall 300 pound muscle mountain. Besides that, Nick was never interested in this competition. The one-sided rivalry ended last summer when after Nick's tragedy the team got another quarterback, but Richard became captain because of his reputation within the team.
Richard had always been a social core of any group and had tons of friends. Nick, on the other hand, was more of a loner, and only his talent was the reason he became the quarterback and the captain. He was not socially awkward, he just really loved to spend time alone – that is – apart from football. He loved football.
"I warned you!" Richard was still laughing, " 'Cindy the whore' … but you did not listen".
"I did not." Nick nodded.
They both watched the cheerleaders building a pyramid. One of the girls made a mistake and the pyramid collapsed.
"Richard, I am sorry." Nick blurted out while still looking at the girls.
"You apologized enough times already!" Richard pretended to be angry. "Who cares about what happened a year ago … oh right – today it is exactly a year! That's right, February 14th! Nick – today is our anniversary! Hahaha!" He started laughing hysterically.
A year ago on this same day Richard called Nick's girlfriend Cindy a 'whore' in front of both the football team and the cheerleader squad. For the first time in his life Nick lost his calm – charged at Richard and started the fight. They still had their equipment on, so no one got really hurt … only Nick's pride.
"Damn you, Nicolas Berglund!" Richard became serious "You charged at me like a small bull. My body ached for weeks after you knocked me down. Stress and pain of the league finals is a child's play compared to that. I still have PTSD even now ..." And then he started laughing again "… but, to be honest, you didn't really know how to fight! Hahaha!"
"I still don't. You know I don't like fighting," Nick said, blushed in embarrassment, "Anyway – I shouldn't have done that, I should have listened to you."
"A fool in love! You probably were the only one who did not know she was 'trying out' all the captains. Rumor is she skipped only badminton and curling teams – and the latter only because we don't have one!" Richard picked up a pebble and threw it towards the cheerleader squad.
"Well, you could have chosen a better time and place to share that." Nick looked at his friend.
"Ye. But I got all angry because the gift you were going to give her was way too expensive for a teen romance – those were all your savings! You were enslaved in that children hospital for the whole summer!"
Marianne Dumont – pediatrician and professor at Stanford, also known as Nick's mother. Three years ago she arranged summer internship for Nick at the children hospital right next to the Stanford campus. Contrary to his father, she was not at all fine with blindly allowing her only son to follow his 'childish' dreams.
In order to widen his horizons she methodically tried to introduce him to more practical fields of study. In her eyes the foreign languages were fine as a hobby, but not a perspective carrier choice. Usually in the family she had always the last word, but this time even with all the discussions and persuasions Nick still chose the Division of Literatures, cultures, and languages to study in. It was a huge blow to her. The son of both – the professor of medicine and the leading scientist in gene technology decided to study languages! The only comfort – it was still the same university, even if her husband here gave lectures only from time to time and mostly cooked his gene vials further down in the Silicon valley – the whole family was still involved with her cherished Stanford.
"It's all water under the bridge." Nick tried to end this somewhat unpleasant part of the conversation, "You did not answer me – is your training over already?"
"Yup. I don't want to sweat today anymore. Shall we grab a pizza?" Richard jumped up and stretched his legs.
Nick looked at Richard in surprise, "Don't you have a date tonight? It is the February 14th and you are the captain of the football team. Don't tell me you have no date because you could not choose between your fans?"
"Hmpf." Richard snorted "I don't intend to get myself involved and fall for someone like another 'Cindy the whore'. This summer I will meet someone outside the campus, someone who will like me for my gentle soul and tender smile."
… and both youths burst into laughter.
"What about you?" Richard asked. "You definitely have some hidden gems in the Language division. You know like 15 languages, you are the superstar there."
"Only seven."
"Still. There are definitely few beauties who won't care about your legs. And it is only your legs that are paralyzed, right? The other parts should work just fine, huh?"
"Right." Nick turned gloomy.
"Ermm ... Sorry, you know I did not mean that." Richard said in a guilty voice.
"It's fine. Obviously it shows the part of your gentle soul that will conquer the hearts of all the girls in San Francisco this summer."
Both friends looked at each other furiously for a moment, and then began to laugh again. Richard did have a kind heart, but his choice and timing of words was terrible as always.
"Anyway. You are in luck – I will be your Valentine today. Let's have pizza, I am paying!" Richard switched back to more important matters.
"Woa! Turns out it really is my lucky day." Nick sarcastically replied.
"Of course! Go buy a lottery ticket." Richard ignored Nick's remark and started to walk towards changing rooms, "I'll go take a shower and change, lets meet … oh wait – I still have to run to the dorms. Let's meet at the Western entrance in two hours, ok?"
"No problem. The weather is really nice – just right to take a roll around the campus." Nick smiled.
Richard stopped, looked back at Nick and seriously replied: "I deeply respect you, Nicolas Berglund. If I was in your place … if anyone else was in your place … I don't know if they would be able to laugh and joke like that."
Then he gave a stupid smile, waved and jogged towards the changing rooms. Of course, he did not forget to throw few remarks towards the blushing cheerleaders whose pyramid collapsed once again.
"Big lump." Nick gave a long sigh and looked up to the sky. One year ago he had everything. He was THE star.
He was of an average height, quite slim and had normal facial features. The only thing that set him apart from the masses of other average looking guys were his crystal blue eyes and the natural blond hair – an obvious heritage from his Swedish father. For some reason he did not inherit his father's viking-like body though and this resulted in uncountable amount of lectures on genetics at the family's dinner table.
Despite the average looks and semi-unsocial behavior, Nick's popularity between peers was probably the highest in the university. It was not because of his background, being son of professors Marianne Dumont and Olle Berglund. It was not because of his success in studies, despite him being the best student in the Division of Literatures, cultures, and languages, fluent in five languages and almost as good in two more.
It was because of his speed.
At the age of 12 he could dash 60 yards well under 8 seconds and at 14 – easily under 7! He was several years ahead of his peers. He broke all the possible school, high school, and later, university records. Everyone who had the slightest relation to any sport, wanted to recruit him. And he did not really oppose. He liked running. Liked a lot.
He was a bit similar to his father. Except Olle Berglund loved to swim. Of course, father hoped his son would fall in love with the swimming as well, but as usual – hopes came with inevitable disappointment. Years ago Olle took Nick swimming every morning before work and his son was not really against it. But he could not understand why he needs to paddle around the square pool, when he could run around the park or along the beach. Soon they agreed they would only swim together on weekends and the rest of the time Nick was free from the filial obligation of making his father happy. Instead he could just leisurely jog and enjoy the sights.
Well, Nick was free, but his mother not so much – she had to take him for runs in different parks because 'the old became boring' pretty soon. It was a bit annoying from logistical point of view, but as a mother she was delighted her son went after his father and was developing a healthy lifestyle – it was an acceptable burden.
And, of course, it was the father who advised Nick to make something different out of his running habits. After observing for a few months and even doing few morning runs together, during one breakfast he summarized: "Nicolas, you love running and even if you don't run fast, you can run for miles without getting tired. It is definitely good for your physical strength and body's development. But that's it, my dear son."
Both Nick and Marianne were stupefied: "What do you mean 'that's it'? Isn't it enough? Aren't those the reasons why everyone is running?"
To what Olle replied, "If you do everything like others, you will become like others. Doing things like the rest leads to mediocrity!"
Marianne was used to the methodical ways of thinking her beloved partner had. Being a scientist it was normal for him to optimize everything and then develop further, even including the daily habits and thinking behavior. But despite that she could not get what can be done differently with 'running'. Same with Nick. Wasn't that just an exercise?