White is for Virgins

Chapter 8

 "Emery!" I heard someone shout, "Emery Price!" I spun around, bumping into someone in the process, and headed back into the direction of Mrs. Sawyer's room. Of course, her room was on a different lane of the hallway. I was going in the opposite direction of everyone else and trying to dodge traffic, which took me some time.

"Yes?" I asked, fixing my basically windswept hair.

"I just wanted to let you know beforehand that you scored highest on the exam last week," she started, leaning against her desk. But before I could jump for joy, a giant box of irony fell from the sky and ruined my moment of glory.

"I would like for you to know that your participation in this class is crucial, and I've yet to see you raise your hand and say what is on your mind," Mrs. Sawyer stated, folding her hands in her lap as she remained on the edge of her desk. I could feel my cheeks turn pink as we stood there in silence.

"I'll work on it, Mrs. Sawyer, I just – it's not... particularly easy for me to speak out in class," I told her weakly.

"Well Ms. Emery, you'd better fix that before both your grade and your self-confidence suffer greatly," she said sternly. "That is all. I expect a little more from you next week in class. We'll be discussing A Midsummer Night's Dream." I caught her emphasis on the dreadful D word. Another thing to add to my To Do List: work on social and public speaking skills.

***

.FOX'S POV.

POW! The gun went off, and did we. With a quick burst of energy, I established my position at a comfortable and temporary 2nd place. I could feel the ground beneath me moving, like I was on a treadmill. Following the tiny little guy that was in the lead, I waited for just the right moment to claim victory. 60 meters in; he's still going strong. Impressive, but not good enough.

He was breathing hard, and his legs weren't moving as swiftly as before. I took advantage of this fault. As he slowed down, I took the liberty of speeding up. The checkered flag waved as I crossed the finish line in 1st, Nick took 2nd, little man – 3rd.

"Too easy," I breathed, giving him a low five. We sprinted back over to Coach D, where we had water waiting for us.

"Excellent boys," he commented, slapping us on the back with his meaty hands, "We're going all the way again this year, I can feel it."

"Hell yes, we are!" Nick laughed, spraying water all over his sweaty face. I turned to the bleachers, where girls were screaming by the hundreds.

"This will never get old," I laughed, waving to some of the blondes by the track. I ran my hands through my sweaty hair and winked at them, sending three girls into a fit of giggles.

"How do you do it, man?" Nick sighed.

"You just wink, and they flock to you, Nikki. It's simple," I shrugged, humoring his stupid question, while scanning the crowds for more girls.

"No – I mean, how do you not get bored?" he asked, stretching for the next race.

"Bored? Of girls?" I asked incredulously, thinking I had heard him wrong.

"Of so many girls. You've never met one that stuck out to you? One that was better than all the rest?" he asked, messing up his brown, shaggy mop.

"Nope," I scowled, "And if I did I'd never-" let her go. I didn't finish the sentence, because Nick didn't need me to rag on him anymore than his parents did. Someone's incessant shrills caught my attention, and I scanned the bleachers for the source. Gorgeous blonde, gorgeous redhead, cute blonde, no, no... My eyes landed on a relatively short girl – in Red Cross attire - jumping up and down with a poster in her hands, shouting, "Donate Blood! Save a life!"