Torn

Chaper 1

Rapidly rushing out of science class with two of my closest friends, I looked over my shoulder and whispered a quick goodbye. Hastening through the winding non-descript halls that were lined with slimey-coloured banged-up lockers, I silently prayed that I could catch Mr. Bern before he left for the day. My humanities essay would be due at three and it was worth 15% of my course grade. I raked my hands nervously through my hair as my breathing quickened hoping that I could just get it in.

Thunk! Accidentally, I absent-mindedly shouldered-butted the principal who was slowly meandering down the halls intent on his own destination. I murmured a quick "Sorry" as I continued on my way to make the goal of handing the assignment in before the deadline a reality.

Locked and lights off however, the room was still. I glanced at my phone and it was two fifty-six. Somehow, I'd missed it.

Feeling defeated I stood there a full minute before wearily walking away. Inwardly I vowed that I would certainly hand it in Monday morning before the bell. No excuses. Glancing about to find the closest exit to the treed school parking lot, I just wanted to leave. However, Nate and Mitch had other plans.

The big game against our greatest rivals, the Pavilion Sluggers, was on Sunday and these two wanted the pre-game scoop. Knowing that I would be unable to escape their interrogation, I reluctantly agreed to answer their questions. My team had made a bet though that whoever could dodge being interviewed by these two before Sunday's big game would share in a prize pool of a hundred dollars to which every player had contributed. I lost.

Nate, with his greasy, mousey hair and crooked, rectangular glasses beamed as he looked up at me with his bulging brown eyes. He squeaked, "Please. Tell us your name, age, position, height, position, weight, age, height, name." He rattled and jumbled on and on without a breath to spare and I just wanted to leave.

"You guys have that information already. It's all in the spring overview article you guys wrote." I rolled my eyes. Couldn't they be a least a tad-bit prepared?

Clicking his pen in a non-stop manner, he squirmed as if trying to relieve the pressure of a pair of pants that were just a little too snug in all the wrong places. "I tried telling that to Miss Nightmare," snort, giggle, "but she said that information is outdated even though it was published last week. You know how she is." He winked and smile at me as if we shared a secret. Miss Nightmare's actual name was Everly Moss, a student who had gotten the nickname by being a pain in the butt to team up with as her bare minimum was perfection and she always digging for the latest information. Bouncing back and forth, side to side, Nate continued, "Can you pleeeease just answer these questions one more time? We can't tell her that we couldn't get the information." He started twitching.

I'm not sure if I felt sorry for him or if I just wanted to leave but I knew if I didn't give them their answers quickly I wouldn't get out of here until four. "Hey, don't worry about it. Name's Maverick Whitney, 17 years old, pitcher, 5ft 10in, 150 lbs." Thankfully, at that moment, my phone buzzed as my mom notified me that she was in the school parking lot. Answering a few more questions, I left Nate and Mitch to their task as they gleefully proceeded to seek out their next target.

Purposefully, I strolled out of the school's brightly painted exit and eagerly jogged to my mom's black Honda. The weekend had finally begun.