Pain cuts through my foot each time it hits the pavement. I hobble and curse, and then I stumble onto a nearby lawn. The muggy air feels like gauze against my face.
Asher and Mark stop running too. We all catch our breath.
“What happened?” Asher says, planting his hands on his hips and doing that thing where he shows his top row of teeth as he inhales. The front two are perfect and white like crunchy gum.
With my butt perched on the curb, I lean back on my hands. The grass feels soft but prickly and it smells as much like chemicals as gas.