Kaitlyn Rogers Side Stories

-The One with Track Practice-

"What did you say your PR was?" Clint looks at me, curious like always.

"If I'm being honest I don't remember. I'm hoping we can win at state though." I look at Clint.

"Did you get to go to state last year?" Clint leans in closer.

"Well yeah we did but we didn't run at all. Our team all got food poisoning so we couldn't run." I look at Clint.

"Would you have won . . . But I think this year I stand a chance." I grin.

"You know with your super serum I consider it cheating." Clint narrows his eyes at me.

"But it's a part of me. And it's literally my genetics. Besides they'll never know." I roll my eyes and run my hair through my curled hair.

Clint snorts. "We'll see about that."

"Clint! No!" I shriek. I squeeze his hands. "Please!" I plead.

"You're fine! I was only kidding." He ruffles my hair. And I glare at him. "Alright kid I got to go." He gets up from the couch leaving me alone.

I watch him walk out of the room. He's sly and quiet like usual.  I remember when I first met him.  I was terrified of him.  But now we're close friends. 

*  *  *

"Again."  Coach Calloway looks up from his stop watch. 

I stand still to catch my breath.  My hand are on my hips as I gasp.  I stay still.  The sun shines down on us, leaving my shadow on the track.  Leaving a fading sunset as it disappears over the horizon. 

It's late April.  A little chilly in southern New York.  One of the first one on one practices with coach and I'm personally dreading all of them. 

"Rogers."  Coach Calloway grouches.  His voice is sudden.  I twist my head around. 

"Sure thing coach."  I say in an irritated tone in hopes that one on one practice doesn't go too long. 

I jog over to the starting line.  I stretch one of my legs out to the edge and the other is bent as I am partly lurching forward. 

I rub my fists into the ground and my palms are laid.  Reuben holds his pistol into position.  Fingers gripping over the trigger. 

The pistol cracks a few seconds later, I'm picking up the dust on the track.  Loose pebbles flip up after I pass.

"C'mon Kaitlyn.  Pick it up!"  Reuben says spitefully. 

Reuben is a track assistant.  He won first for a couple of long distance events including relays at state last year. He's two years older and he's a legend to me.  I look up to him a lot.  He's also really nice.  And he kind of cares a lot about me too.  And kind of cute. . . But I mean it's not like actually like him or anything.  No I could never like a sophomore. 

Well. . . Maybe I do.   But that doesn't change anything!  I swear on it.  His golden fluffy hair . . . His deep voice.  Oh my god.  I'm in love with him.  But he can't know.  Nobody can know. 

The moment I make my first lap, I've already sped past  everything.  And pick it up once I get close to completing my next lap.  I push myself even further.  Even faster. 

The moment my foot sets foot out of the line.  I feel a strange sensation run through my bones.  A feeling that I'm not really sure I like.  But it feels good.  And I want to go again.