1: First Impressions

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The first day at a new school was the worst

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The first day at a new school was the worst. 

Walkingacross the parking lot, my toes twitched with the urge to prove myself. Howfast I was. How my talent exceeded my hype. How sweating through performancetraining and conditioning camps was summer time and money well-spent. I wantedto prove all of it and more, but nerves fluttered through me. I felt strongerand faster, but needed to prove it...As soon as I got through my first day

I wanted this. I chose this. It'll be fine.

An oppressive wall of dry heat hit me upon approaching the school entrance. I raked another hand through the hairs clinging to my forehead. Rock-faced walls lined a large, concrete slab area filled with black picnic benches. With no shade cover, its open exposure made my stomach tighten. Breeding grounds for judgment, with nowhere else to go.

Problem was, this school was in the middle of nowhere. "Questionably edible school lunch it is." I adjusted the backpack straps tugging at my armpits. Despite the longest settings, they didn't fit right around my shoulders.

The stark differences here were evident. Uneven grass encroached on the cracked sidewalk. Peach paint peeled off the brick, and 'Scotts Valley–Home of the Falcons' sign like the dead skin I couldn't prevent from forming on my fingertips. More abandoned than maintained, the football field was an open grass area with faded markers and rusted goalposts. A dull brown clay track surrounded it, and a leaning wood structure stood for concessions. The small bleachers and single benches were a far cry from Santa Cruz's pristine turf and stadium seating.

A lawnmower buzzed as a...Was that a girl?

I stumbled in a game of which foot tripped first. A thin girl sat on a riding lawn mower, her breasts bouncing, and dark hair wagged in a ponytail out the back of her baseball cap. With a heart-shaped face and pink lips parted, she was cute.

Internal heat rose up the back of my neck, and sweat tickled my forehead. I wiped it with the back of my hand, drawing her brown eyes in my direction.

Queue locked-up paralysis. Not again. One sweet smile knocked me one rung lower on the evolution ladder. My mouth locked as if my jaw was wired shut. What should I say? Hi? Do I walk over? Casual wave? Heart hands? I should introduce myself. But she was working. Plus, she could mow over my feet. I didn't want that.

She drove closer, making my body mutiny by flushing warmth across my chest and shoulders. The next breath stalled in my lungs until they burned. A jittery sense of unease pumped my pulse faster. Constriction closed in my throat, rendering my voice inoperable except for incoherent croaks, groans, or whatever raspy, strained sound strangled my normal speaking voice into higher-pitched squeaks of absolute embarrassment.

One lift of her hand and my knees buckled. It was fine. I was fine. Breathe, it'll be–I...Fucking walked into a sign. "Ugh!" I grunted at the metal pole striking my shoulder and the side of my face. A yellow diamond 'Caution-Slow' sign wobbled and hummed, bursting my pride more than the contact pain. Smooth, Brody. Real smooth.

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