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something. Let’s go over to the park right now and race.”
    Mina’s legs suddenly felt as though they needed braces. She wondered if Wilma Rudolph had ever felt this weak. And yet there was no escaping this race.
    “If you don’t race, we’ll never know if you can beat me. I’ll never be able to think of myself as the fastest.”
    “Okay,” Mina said slowly, thinking of Alana’s secret. She had already beaten Ruth. “I’ll race you.”
    Ruth held out her hands, the fingertips salty and greasy from the chips, ready for the Fellow Friends Handshake.

The park was just down the street from Ruth’s house. As they walked, Mina thought of how the Chinese Moon Festival was a special time to celebrate friendship. If only it were fall instead of spring. If only she could just offer Ruth a simple moon cake. . . .
    When they reached the spread of green grass, Ruth headed for an olive tree with a patch of bare dirt underneath. “Let’s run from that pine tree over there to here.” She marked a line with her toe. “That’s about fifty meters.”
    Mina nodded. Would it really be okay to win? She followed Ruth to the pine, where she marked a second line.
    Ruth leaned into the tree trunk and stretched one leg behind her, bouncing into the heel.
    Not wanting to copy Ruth, Mina bent over to touch her toes.
    “Hey, guys,” Ruth called to two small boys crossing the grass. She cupped her hands around her mouth: “Can you help us with our race?”
    The boys came closer, one in a striped T-shirt, the other wearing a purple baseball cap turned backward.
    Ruth beckoned to the one with the cap. “You stand here.” She pointed to the start line she’d drawn. “You’ll count down for us.” She pointed to the line by the olive tree. “You’re over there,” she told the other boy. “Watch who puts their foot across the line first. Watch closely because the race could be close.”
    Mina suddenly wished Ruth would offer another Fellow Friends Handshake, but Ruth was busy wiping her palms on her shorts.
    The boy counted —“Three, two, one”— and then shouted: “Go!”
    Mina plunged forward, shoving hard against the dirt with her toes. All her holding back vanished. She was off!
    But the next moment, as though a whisper of wind had crossed her path, she found herself slowing — like in the tryouts when she had fallen behind on purpose. Way behind. That had felt awful.
    She’d won once. It was time to win again.
    At that moment, the world fell silent. The air filled with the smell of orange blossoms, a thick haze of sweetness. The sunshine cascaded, lovely and soft, around her head and shoulders. The tiniest breeze lapped at her as she ran. There was all the time in the world to complete the short distance between here and the tree.
    She didn’t turn her head to look, but Mina knew that Ruth was running beside her. They ran like the African antelopes she’d seen in a movie — loping over a yellow plain, beneath trees with flat, horizontal branches.
    One gigantic leap took Mina sailing high and forward, over the line. The leap carried her past the boy in the striped shirt.
    The silence broke. “You won!” shouted the boy, pointing at Mina.
    She glanced down at herself. Then, even though her breath was coming in great heaving gulps, she looked at Ruth.
    Ruth was leaning over, her hands on her knees, breathing hard. Finally, she lifted her face and managed to smile.
    The boys wandered off, and Mina and Ruth lay down on the grass, cradled in a large nest of miniature white flowers. Their breathing calmed into the same rhythm.
    The sun was still up, but Mina noticed a crisp crescent in the sky. For the next two weeks it would grow until it reached its night of complete fullness. Mina closed her eyes. She was glad she’d run against Ruth. Like the moon, she was beginning to feel round and whole herself.
    “Thanks,” said Mina after the shadow of the olive tree had edged across their faces.
    “For what?”
    “For