Run from Me (manxmen)

Chapter 1

Hey all, this is one of the new stories that will be offered on my Patreon. I hope you enjoy it! (p.s. I know the cover sucks >,< I made it myself)

------------------------------------------------------

I learned how to run at an early age.

Before I could even walk.

Running from this or that or them.

It wasn't until middle school that my feet first hit a track though. When I first lined up on that line I knew. I knew that with my competitors on either side of me and no one to drag me down that this would be what I would devote my life to. Something where I didn't have to depend on anyone but myself.

"Tate, you're good, but I can't offer you a spot on varsity. Your grades just aren't good enough." My coach shakes his head, the visor and matching blue tracksuit he wears makes him look stupid. He raises the yellow whistle hanging around his neck to his mouth, blowing into it. It causes a piercing sound to punch at my ears because of our close proximity. I shoot him an annoyed look as I cover them. "Again! Daniel, you're getting slower! We'll run until Daniel can keep up." My coach shouts his eyes on the tired group of men bent over on the track. The red of our college's varsity sweater is tied around their waist. I adjust my black junior varsity jack on my shoulders.

I should be out there. I can run for hours and miles and am better than everyone out there, especially Daniel.

"I'm not here on an academic scholarship. I'm here on an athletic one. I'm here to run." I counter, my eyes sliding back to my coach who shakes his head as he begins writing something down on the clipboard in his hands.

"And another thing. That attitude of yours. This may not look like a team sport, but it is. You're running out there alone, but it's the points at the end of the meet that matters." My coach divulges, his eyes flickering to mine as he stops writing on the clipboard. "You should consider my offer for the relay." He says with a nod, his eyes cut away from me to go back to the track halfway through his sentence.

I shake my head, irritation pricking my skin at the dismissive tone he gives me. He can't even have a full conversation with me without blowing that damn whistle and he's wrong. Track is not a team sport. And, I'd die before I counted on someone else to get me to first place. Participating in a relay is like handing in your trophy. You might get someone like Daniel. My eyes flicker back to the track to see the man slowly falling behind the group of runners.

I turn back to my coach.

"Absolutely not. My times beat half the guys out there. I deserve to be on varsity, for the four hundred and for long jump." I challenge, giving him a hard stare. Numbers don't lie.

"I know you can outrun them--and hell out jump them, but I don't need some flight risk who may be benched because of academic probation taking up someone's spot. I'm not sure what happened with you. Your high school grades weren't good, but your SAT scores were mind blowing. A perfect score. I was just expecting more from you, Tate." He states and he turns away from me, making his way onto the track. My irritation now vibrates on my skin and I stomp after him.

More from me? I'm out on the track everyday before dawn and everyday after sunset. I'm giving him an olympian, not some geek stuck in a classroom learning about stuff he'll never use.

"Dammit Daniel, my grandma can run faster than you're running right now. Do you want me to get her out here and you go to the nursing home?" My coach yells, his face turning red. "Again!"

I watch as a few of the men on the track pat Daniel's back. The sloth of a man apologizes profusely as he tries to suck in air. I roll my eyes at his incompetence.