Toes under my nose I listened to my feet slapping the court flooring surface of the gymnasium to see if I was running too hard and putting myself at risk for injury.
I quickly rounded another corner and that's when I'd noticed the boys all reved up as they made their way on to the basketball court. I listened as they tore up the safe, high performance black and red surface that reduced shock and delivered excellent traction.
Coming from a public school system I was used to PE not being gender differentiated. All of my classes had both genders so I wasn't fazed when the boys hit the ground running. Two more laps then I was done.
I grazed the outer lane and once the coast was clear of all passerby's I carefully raised my arm out to the side and waited patiently for Ms. Pratt to walk up to me and duplicate another crooked line on my hand. "Keep going!!! You're almost done!!" Ms. Pratt told me as she brought the fat uncapped marker over my hand and with a steady grip drew half a line that didn't make it all the way down because the ink had dried out.
Face blooming into an overwhelming shade darker, Ms. Pratt yells after me to get out there and kick ass.
I ran back on the track and made sure not to bump into anyone that was coming my way. Swinging my arm forward, I reached toward a center line, but never crossing over in front of my body.
Ms. Pratt was pregnant but she didn't act like it. I took another lap around the basketball court with the hopes that Ms. Pratt would take it easy for a change and stop with all that bended knee movement that unnerved and alarmed everyone besides her. Woman with child did not understand the concept of going easy.
Shaking my head, I relaxed my hand grip and looked behind me, shocked to see there were only two girls left from my class going around the court at the same time as me. When did that happen? As it went, the one in the high pony kept me from slowing down. Yeah. She literally kept me on my toes alright.
I only had one more lap to go. I could do this no problem.
Toeing off the opposite foot I kept my eye on the horizon. I made sure not to overextend my forward leg in front of me because then that would have put extra strain on the knees and hamstrings. With more people dominating the floor than I could have initially anticipated, most of them from the other class, there wasn't enough arm room for anybody to make significant recovery.
For the moment I didn't worry about the girl with the sleek ponytail; so long as I didn't get the longest time imaginable in the history of Starkhouse then I didn't view her as a threat. Some naturally athletic people liked to set records and it just so happened that I hated to finish anything last.
"It's unfair." said an unfamiliar voice.
I looked to my left and saw a guy of average build with honeysuckle hair coming up beside me. Alarm bells rang in between my ears. Who was he and what did he want?
Since we were the only ones drifting on the outside lane I felt obligated to speak back. It was either talk to him or get a nice visit from Dr. Cambridge because I wasn't developing any social skills. Dr. Cambridge wanted me to make friends and if I wanted to keep her at arms length then I had to play her game. It was a no brainer. Short of breath I look at my unwanted companion. "What is?" I reluctantly ask him. I was rusty at this and the hesitation in my voice spoke volumes.
The male runner lifted his hands and crooked his fingers in the air while he ranted. "The 'Athletic Division' does nothing but stand to the side and talk amongst themselves while we -more air quotes- 'The Students' are forced to endure strenuous labor pains. Where's the equality in that?"
I stayed quiet because I wasn't sure if he was asking me or telling me. Was he serious? Nobody used quotations to invoke their opinion anymore. That was so blasé'. I casually turned my head and looked over at the back of the gym, my eyes sticking to the long line of stacked basketball bleachers. I hated pep rallies and I was glad that I'd missed homecoming. A pride banner hung over both teachers on the wall next to the indoor roll aluminum bleachers.
The friendly blonde was right about one thing: both coaches were standing off court and stood close babbling like good buddies did. The guy's sports trainer, a tall muscular man with spiked hair, Coach Cooper something or other, kept Ms. Pratt laughing during the entire class.
I wasn't big on exercise but I knew what a difference it made to people if you had a toned healthy body. I swiveled my head back. "Isn't that the point." I tell the boy next to me.
Human interaction. Connection. That's why you're doing this. I had to remind myself before I clammed up or else I'd brush him off like I did everyone else. If Dr. Cambridge wanted, she could request in-house treatment and if I didn't play by her rules I was handing over my golden ticket. After weeks of not speaking to other people, and Dr. Cambridge didn't count because she was trying to help me get past my avoidance of people, my dialogue was a bit rusty when I spoke and casually bordered on the sarcastic. What could I say? It was hard to flat out reject the talking body next to me.
"I'm Wesley." he introduces himself, grinning at me like we were chummy with one another.
I took a sidelong glance at him. He was trying to keep up with the rest of us or just humoring me. "Aislin." I say, panting for breath. Either way, I couldn't ignore him just because I was having trouble picking up a vibe.
Whether a new approach was successful or not I had to except the fact that I wasn't at my old school where people hadn't taken notice of me and treated my presence as if they were stepping on already streaked glass. Taking Dr. Cambridge's advise I was undergoing a new set of healthy thought patterns, or at the very least I'd managed to convince myself that I was trying.
Together we went around the court without saying anything.
I didn't mind the long oval stretch so much as the change in thought that I had a trouble adjusting to. It was the sudden pull zapping all mental energy that shot off in opposite directions like a hot fourth of July, fireworks equivalent to the speed of thought like spokes going back to the hub is what made it difficult to keep focus and not sprain my ankle. Run, idiot. You can think about your crappy life later.
Not far away I picked up a light trail of footsteps closing in on my imaginary separate lane. Geez. Did they think I had a stash in my locker and was hoping I could sell a few ounces Or What? Without looking back I made a signal for the other jogger to, you know, go around me because I wasn't going to speed up for anyone unless that person was Ms. Pratt, and she wasn't participating with the rest of us.
Sighing, I was about to tell the guy off when all of a sudden I felt someone's presence along the side of my back. Prickly bumps on my arms told me I was a little too late for that. The guy that was behind me caught up to us like greased lightening. Before I could motivate him to leave us alone a hand seized Wesley by the neck and patted his shoulder in a bear hug with the other.
Lenny Kravitz The Un-Dread lookalike slapped his arm around Wesley's shoulder. "Please forgive my friend here. He's got low blood sugar." Boy with the dreamy green eyes tells me. "I hope he's not bothering you."
Oh yeah I was pretty boy crushing all-right.
Maybe this getting to know people wasn't so bad after all.
I found myself grinning back.
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