Terry

Three

While I was relieved that Casandra wasn't hurt, I still has trouble of my own: Gym class. I know the whole point of gym is to help people get physically active, but what it's really a hell on Earth. It's crawling with ego driven, testosterone filled, judgemental guys who do nothing but two things: compare how good they are at sports and make fun of thoes who aren't.

It didn't take long for them to notice my chubby, out of shape body when they saw me shirtless for the first time. It also didn't take long for them to make fun of me. They kept pointing and laughing at me, calling me all sorts of names starting from"fatty" to "Blubber Man, to "lard ass". I hoped for only one thing: No running the field.

"Alright everyone, time to run out in the field!" the Gym Coach shouted at us, sounding overly angery for no reason at all. We gathered on the track, lined up like sheep being herded by a shepard. "I expect all of you to complete his mile long run." the Coach yelled. "Remember: stopping to catch your breath, slowing down, and giving up isn't allowed in my class!" He began to count from three to one and blew his whistle; signaling us to start running.

At first, I was going at a steady pace, but I soon remembered the one of the reasons I hated gym class: Being exhausted. I was soon sweating like a pig on a summer day. The track field felt as if it stretches ten miles. I look up to see how much distance I have left to run, but it looks like I've made little to no progress. I felt my legs burn out of control and my lungs felt like they were covered in needle pins.

I couldn't take it any more.

I ended up stopping only a third of the way to catch my breath. The Coach was yelling at me for being a quitter. But I didn't choose to quit, I had no choice. I just stood there, preferring the Coach intimidating shouts and yells over running another step. Just then, words of encouragement came my way, "Come on, man." said a voice next to me. "You got this, just take it one step at a time." When I turned to see who it was , I found a incredibly short but fit guy, who looks as if this was a walk in the park for him. "Let's go," he said, "You don't want to piss off the Coach, trust me."

Acknowledgeing his advice, I started to lightly jog. The guy ran along side me, spewing encouragement throughout the whole run. I was almost finished, the finish line was so close and yet so far. I started to run a little faster, trying to hurry up and end this hellish exercise. When I finally made it, I turned back to see if anyone was left, but nobody was there. I was dead last. The Coach called me over to him.

"Terry," he said in disappointment, "Based on how your performance during today's run, I've concluded that you would most likely fail gym. But since it's the begining of the school year, It's not too late. You still have time to try to improve physically. So I want you to start exercising at home, and often, understand?" I nodded, cringing at the thought of constanly working out often.

I was dismissed from his office and was heading to the basketball court. I saw the guy who helped me on the track field trying to join the others in a game, but they kept turning him down. I overheard one of the guys talking about him. "I'm not gonna let that fagot play with us." he said, "What if he had a crush on one of us? He might flirt with anyone of us! I'm not about to have any dude interested in me like that get anywhere close to me!" The guys laughed, dribbling the ball back and forth on their court. I walked over to the guy, who was dribbling the ball, shooting, and horribly missing over and over.

"Hey," I said to get his attention, "I just wanted to tell you thanks for running with me and encouraging me. I appreciate it." we stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds. "My name's Terry by the way." He looked at me, then back to the ball. "The name's Richard," he said slightly bitterly, "You probably already know why I'm playing by myself." I tried to play dumb. "No," I said, "Why?"

"You'll laugh. You'll avoid me. You'll hate me if you know." Richard said, warning me. "Come on," I said with a smile, "How bad can it be?" He took a deep breath. "I'm openly gay." he announced to me, "I've been gay ever scince 8th grade, but I've kept a secret. But one day I met a guy who I found attractive, I asked him out last year, he said no. To add insult to injury, he told everyone that i asked him out. Now all the guys try to avoid me at all cost. They think I'm gonna flirt with them, or try to do something sexual to them."

He looked up, surprised that I'm still here. "Dude," I said with a reassuring tone, "Gay or not, I still think you're a great person." His eyebrows were raised, surprised how I'm not making fun of him. "It's okay to be whatever you want. Don't let others get in the way of that. If they have a problem with you being gay, then that's their fault. Not yours. I'm fat, many people make fun of me because of that. But I'm not gonna let them break me. You shouldn't either." He made a slight grin. "Thanks, Terry," said Richard, "But let's chance the subject, can you play basketball?"

I shook my head yes. He passed me the ball. I stood behind the three point line, shot the ball, and made it on my first try. Richard stood there, agitated at himself. "Are you kidding me!?!" he yelled, "I tried to make that shot a hundred times! And Terry makes it in the first try! That's not fair!"

I laughed at his frustration, as we continued to play basketball until gym class ended.