Yours Musically

15. The Ink Diaries

Chapter Fifteen - The Ink Diaries

Running was not my forte.

Or any other kind of physical activity for that matter. So, the fact that I had to run on coach's whistle in the scorching heat like my life depended on it made my day just a tad worse.

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that he didn't leave you there?" Meera nudged my shoulder while running next to me. "It was kind of sweet of him."

I scrunched my nose over my best friend calling my enemy sweet. "Are we just going to ignore the part where he did leave me behind?"

"And then he came back," Cheryl added.

"That doesn't matter. His first instinct was to leave me behind. I'm just going with that. He's a monster."

"Come on, Becks. That's a bit much, don't you think?" Meera rolled her eyes.

I scoffed in disbelief, placing a hand over my chest. "Wow. I didn't know your loyalties to me were so fickle, besties."

"You basically tricked him into training you. I'd be more pissed, to be honest." Cheryl shrugged.

"Not you guys defending him, okay? He started everything. I wouldn't need his help if I didn't help him on the stage first."

They exchanged a look, then Cheryl sighed. "Fair enough."

A loud whistle blew and I cringed, turning around to find the coach hyping us up by clapping her hands. "Come on, girls! You can do it."

I bent over, placed my hands over my knees and said breathlessly, "in... a second."

"Come on. One last lap," she shouted louder, lifting her whistle up to her lips. Please no. Please don't blow it again.

"Bathroom break. Be right back," Cheryl said quickly and took off.

"Me too!" I almost followed until the dreadful shriek of that damn whistle rung in my ears again.

"Not together, girls. Go when she comes back, Andrews."

"Come on," I groaned and started running behind Meera, huffing and puffing for air just two seconds into the run.

I must've made it a few meters when I glanced over at the sidelines with my mouth hanging open like a dying, dehydrated bird in a heat wave, and saw my least favourite person—a particular musician—making his way towards the tracks.

Soon I realized he was making his way towards me and I blinked in confusion. What could he want from me? But I wasn't curious enough to stay and find out.

"Oh, hell no!" I picked up my pace, not caring if I was gonna end up passing out on the ground from the lack of air in my lungs. Anything over talking to him.

"Hey!" he called, right behind me.

I ran faster and didn't look back until I was halfway into my lap. I don't know why I was expecting him to run after me but I was glad he didn't.

And when I finished my lap, I realized that he didn't need to. Because he was standing right where he was before, looking a little pissed because I'd made him stand in the sun for about four minutes. It was hard to not notice his dark brown hair glistening as a golden mess under the sun and his annoyingly jacked arms that were folded over his chest as if he was waiting for me to come to him. Like that's going to happen.

Wait, did you say jacked, Becks?

Okay shut up, my inner voice. They were jacked, okay? No point in denying the obvious.