Unpredictability of Love

Story of My Life

"I'm leaving Tuesday." Shirley said, bending down to tie her shoelace.

"Where to?" I asked her, bending down and pretending to tie my shoelace too, in case Preston caught us talking.

"California, junior boxing championship, I'm representing Greeneville. I'll be gone for a week from Tuesday."

I frowned and did a quick calculation. Today was Friday, my birthday was in exactly seven days, if Shirley was leaving on Tuesday, she would be gone for an entire week, and she would miss my birthday. Unless she had left on this week's Tuesday and was coming back next week, which would be totally impossible since she had been here the entire week.

"Damn." I cursed my bad luck. Shirley was literally my only friend, if she wasn't in this city with me on my birthday, I would have no one to spend my birthday with.

"I know." She agreed. "Preston sprung it on me suddenly."

"Even if he didn't spring it on you suddenly, you would still be going." I told her.

She stood beside me and nodded. "It's very prestigious, but I'm feeling bad about ditching you in your eighteenth."

I shook my head. "Nothing to feel bad about. We'll just celebrate my birthday when you come back, along with your win."

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "What makes you think I'll win?"

"If you don't, we'll just celebrate your opponent's broken bones." I told her, grinning. Shirley never lost a match without giving her best to it, which normally resulted in bitter opponents with broken bones, and the audience cheering her on even if she lost.

She laughed and we started our warm-up before practice. "So, what happened to you yesterday? You didn't even come to classes."

"I wasn't feeling well." That was actually true, in a twisted way. I'd decided to sleep in the entire Thursday, catch up on my studies and write a little instead of coming for practice and school. I was feeling down, depressed and plain lazy, so I thought that a little alone time would heal it and refresh me. It didn't work, so here I was, back in my usual routine.

"What happened?" Shirley's voice held serious concern.

I shrugged. "Just a stomach ache, nothing big."

She glanced at me suspiciously for a moment, then stared straight ahead.

"What?"

"You're having a lot of stomach aches."

I didn't argue with her. "Must be the finals pressure."

She nodded.

After a hearty, two hour session of pure punching, the team stood in a circle in the middle of the room, chatting away. Preston held up a hand, instantly shutting everyone up. Preston barely ever called us together and talked to us as a team, most of the time he was busy imparting his good advice on any idiot who had the nerve to punch weakly, so him calling us together to talk to us was a big thing.

He glared around the room, making us shift on our feet uncomfortably, Cheryl who stood a few feet away from me blushed a deep red for no reason at all, she had the tendency to blush when she was nervous. I stuffed my hands into Jack (the jacket) and hoped he wasn't going to murder us.

"I won't be coming from tomorrow, might not be back for the next two weeks; I'll be leaving someone in charge of your practice sessions, any questions?"

No one had any, and even if they did, no one was brave enough to go for it. If Preston wanted to go away and not coach us for two weeks, he could do it. If Preston wanted to wear a bright pink tutu and pink ballet shoes and show us how to dance like the Twelve Dancing Princesses, he could bloody well do it. No one would question him, not on his face at least. All the questions would be asked to Horry or the replacement coach.