The John Hughes Club

Chapter Fifty Five

"I swear Miss Swanley puts me in Centre position as punishment for being so bad at Netball," I moan, my face scrunched up with dismay as I'm doing up the laces on my trainers with annoyance in every single one of my fingers.

"Or she puts you in Centre because she sees great potential in your Netball ability?" Ros questions, trying to keep a straight expression, and failing so badly at it.

"Just because you're in Wing Defence, you can wipe that smug grin from off your face," I warn her in jest, knowing that a smirk is about to erupt any second now.

Relaxing her lithe frame against the changing room lockers, Ros slowly folds her arms. "It could be worse, we could be outside...at least it's warmer in the sports hall."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," I moan some more, unfolding myself to stand tall in front of her. "At least when I'm at college they'll be no more PE for me," I gruffly state, smoothing down my skort with annoyance still present on my face.

"There is that, Little Miss Grumpy Grots," Ros teases, "woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, did we?" comes more of her fluid teasing.

"I'm just tired. I'm revising like mad at the moment...think I might be hitting the books a little too much as it's really beginning to catch up with me now." Reluctantly, I start moving my uncooperative feet towards the ice room that Archleigh refer to as their Sports Hall.

Hugging me with her one arm, Ros softly chuckles. "Only a few more days until Christmas break. You need to make sure that you use that time to recharge those teenage batteries of yours. I know you want to do well in your exams and all that, but you also need to squeeze in some relaxation for yourself. Seriously, you look paler today than when you used to wear all that goth-esque foundation."

"Why, thanks," I grumble with narrowed eyes, expressing my sarcasm. Ros is right though, I look like a new shade of death this morning. Obviously my use of a little rose blush upon the apples of my cheeks has been completely pointless—I still look like an extra from The Walking Dead.

"Come on, let's show em' how to play proper Netball," Ros playfully remarks, giving me one final squeeze of an encouraging hug.

"Yeah, right," is my less than enthusiastic response, all the while just wanting to get this PE session over and done with. Seriously, I can't wait until I don't have to do this anymore. If the activities aren't bad enough, they make you wear ridiculous kit to do them in...yup, roll on until college!

**

I'm twenty minutes into this Netball lesson, but it's feeling more like an hour and twenty minutes. I'm so fed up and exhausted, Ros keeps trying to make me laugh. Every time she thinks Miss Swanley isn't looking, she keeps doing her silly interpretation of 'Flossing' from across the sports hall. If I wasn't feeling so rough, I'd probably be joining in with the immature 'Floss frolics'.

"If I catch you doing that again, Ros, you'll be sitting this lesson out on a bench...understood?" This time, her disastrous hip action has very much been noticed by the disapproving Swanley.

"Sorry, Miss," Ros promptly apologises.

It's while I'm glancing over at my sheepish friend that a weakness feels like it's blanketing me, then the lightheadedness hits me. Overwhelmed with how strange I feel, I'm trying to make it stop, only it's getting worse. The lightheadedness has gone from a bit of detached giddiness to full-on spinning of the hall. Confused and panicked, I stand where I am, the room spinning faster and impairing my vision.

"Mindy? You okay?" Looking concerned, Ros begins to run in my direction.

"I...I...I'm not...not feeling...too...," just as my words are stuttering off my tongue, the whole of me is taken by the sensation of falling into darkness.