Aces

SEVEN

Amaya

That preppy school uniform felt so wrong on me, but this? This felt right: more than that, maybe. Swapping the blazer, blouse, skirt and tie for shorts and t-shirt sent a flood of excitement rushing through my blood, setting my heart alight on the way. As I did up my lace, I heard Avery calling my name from quite some distance away. "Amayaaaa!" Blocking the blaring sun with my hand, I turned to face her.
"Hurry up, slowcoach!" I called back. When she finally reached me, she was completely out of breath. "Not the athletic type, huh?" I asked.
"No, not at all. I'll leave that to you."
"Aww bless, poor Avery's struggling to breathe."
"Shut up, we all have strengths and weaknesses; my weakness just happens to be sports."
"Alright ladies," Coach Ashcroft exclaimed. "I want 2 laps around the track, off you go! Hey, Turner, hair up." I returned to face Avery yet again, a bright smile plastered on my face. "You're a psycho." she said, almost in disgust. Before she could say anything else, I'd started running, letting my legs carry all of my weight, which somehow didn't feel like much anymore. As I passed several other girls, I felt all of my problems, all of my worries drift away, leaving me to feel as if they were never even there. At that moment, I was the only person on this Earth. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as a thin layer of sweat began to cover the nape of my neck. Keeping my breathing steady, I pushed harder and moved faster. I could feel my whole body working; leg muscles running warm, fresh air entering my lungs. My calves started to burn, but it felt good. When I'd finished my second lap, Coach Ashcroft was standing with astonishment painted all over her face. "You... you're the new kid, right?"
"Yes, Miss."
"What's your name?"
"Amaya. Amaya Rowe."
"Well, I'll tell you what, Amaya: I like you. If I remember correctly, you're on the athletics team?"
"Yes, Miss. I got into this school on an athletics scholarship. At my last competition, someone from this school was there and invited me here, and I guess my Ma just really wanted me to come since there are 'wider opportunities'."
"She's right. I think you'll enjoy it here. You know, you have a lot of talent. Where'd you learn to run like that?"
"I- um-"
"Spit it out."
"Nowhere."
"You're self-taught?"
"I guess, yeah. I mean, my Pa used to take me running every Saturday. He was pretty big on that kind of stuff." There was a brief moment of silence.
"Welcome to the school, kid."
"Thank you." Is it possible for someone to be terrifying yet lovely at the same time? Something about Coach Ashcroft is intimidating, but she still seems like a really nice person.

"Jesus Christ Amaya," Avery yelled. "I guessed you could run pretty fast considering that's the whole reason you're here, but I did not see that coming!"
"Thanks, I think..." We strolled back to the changing rooms and Avery was drenched in sweat. She'd tried to get out of the lesson, but Coach Ashcroft is simply too experienced to believe any of her lies. When we reached the changing rooms, Avery dramatically threw herself onto one of the benches. "You'd make an excellent actress."
"Haha wow. Okay yeah, that's not funny, but thank you anyway."
"You're very welcome." I said as I slipped my top over my head.
"Wait, Amaya?"
"That's me."
"What's that? On your back?"
"You mean my birthmark?"
"That's a birthmark?"
"Yeah, it's cool isn't it? You don't see many people with heart-shaped birthmarks."
"Mhm..." Avery replied, a hint of concern in her voice.
"Is everything okay?"
"Quickly, get dressed. I have to show you something."
"What's with the sudden rush?"
"Please, Amaya." I couldn't help but notice the desperation in her voice and the desire in her deep, blue eyes.
"Alright."