Katrina

Her alarm clock rings and Katrina springs out of bed. Her brother would sleep for another hour before he caught his bus to middle school. Katrina always woke up this early, even when it wasn't cross country season. She had a routine: Wake up, run, eat, shower, go to school. The same everyday. She threw on her running shoes, sports bra, and Nike shorts, grabbed her water bottle, and skipped out the door. It was just starting to get light outside and the sky was pink as the sun hit the clouds. The smell of a summer morning hung in the air.

Following her routine, she let her feet lead the way. Katrina never had a set itinerary when training. She just ran. Up that hill, down this street, past mikes house and the park, maybe she could pass by the old lady Marge's house this morning. She slowed down, but never stopped. The one rule that had been engraved into her skull by her coach all those years ago when she started in middle school. never stop. You can slow down, you can walk, but you don't stop until your ten yards on the other side of the finish line on that last lap.

But of course, on morning runs, that was her doorstep. She was sweating now, breathing hard, almost positive she was red in the face, even with her olive skin in her favor. By the time she got home her mother was up preparing her break feast.

"Good morning Kat."

"Good morning Mom." Katrina smiled through her exhaustion. A shower would help. And food. But not in that order.

"Pancakes are ready" Yes. Food.

Katrina shoved them down in a manner of minutes and rushed upstairs to shower. She stripped and jumped into a cold shower. She found herself studying the scar on her right thigh from where she fell on a metal spike when she was running years ago. She couldn't believe it had been so long. she must have been 12, maybe 13. That was back when she first started running. There were years of juvenile soccer behind that, but she hadn't played in years.

No. Now it was running. She loved it. Some her friends had told her she's just a little bit of an adrenaline junkie and that's why she runs everyday. She wasn't sure that was false. she loved the rush. She loved feeling her heart pound throughout her body. Sure it was tiring, yet so exhilarating.

She got out of the shower and got into regular school attire. Jeans, tank top, hoodie. She was sure to grab her pull string bag and throw some running attire into it for practice after school.

She gave her mother a tight hug and ran to catch the bus. Sometimes it felt weird being seventeen and still taking the bus to school, but her car was getting new breaks at her uncle's shop. It was okay though, Mike had promised to give her rides home after practice until it was done getting fixed. There weren't many juniors or seniors on the bus so most of the time Katrina would sit somewhere near the front with headphones in. The freshman boys used to tug on her long black hair in the beginning of the year like they were six year old's with a crush, but after glaring them down they'd decided it be best not to tempt her patience.

After hopping off the bus and grabbing her books from her locker she ran into to her tall black haired band friend Mike on the way to her first class of the day.

"Oh hey Mike! What are you wearing?!" Katrina stopped when she saw a pastel purple shirt that was far too small for a teenage boy from underneath Mike's jacket.

"Made a bet with Maverick," mike explained," he bet that if I couldn't chug a gallon of milk in one go that I'd half to wear his little sisters shirt to school."

"And you lost."

"It's a lot harder than you'd think, apparently."

"Aw its so cute Mike!" Katrina teased him,"You should wear toddler clothing more often, it makes you look like a princess!"