We Don't Need Another Twilight [On Hold]

Chapter Three

The locker room was eerily silent as he walked in, and surprisingly empty. Confused, Aleks quickly went to his locker and changed, using the opportunity. The school uniform for P.E. was a white shirt and red shorts. On Aleks, because he was so short, it made him look like a pale doll and he hated it. He checked the clock afterward and saw that he had 30 seconds to get to the gym before attendance.
He sprinted and managed to make it in time, happy that he was one of the fastest runners on the track team. The other boys were already in the gym, and they smirked at his panting. The coach took no notice and began to call attendance.
"Johnson?"
"Here."
"Casanova?"
"Here!"
  "Mikelov?"
"..."
The coach looked around the gymnasium and spotted Aleks at the back.
  "You're lucky I checked. Speak up nex' time."
  The class laughed and the coach smiled, looking pleased.
  Attendance continued until the coach had checked everyone off. After, he drawled with his accent,
  "You boys are gonna be happy today! We're playin' Soccer!"
(A/n: I mean English Soccer, otherwise known as American Football)
Aleks cringed, seeing as this was the perfect opportunity for him to get killed, no questions asked. He imagined his obituary in the paper.
Some kid was killed. Forgot his name. Oh, well. In other news...
  He sighed mentally. At least he had stocked up his first aid kit recently. Whooping and grinning at each other, the boys ran out the double doors to the soccer field.
  Aleks dragged behind, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the coach would take the hint and let him sit out for the day. This, of course, did not happen. He dragged himself out of the gym.
  His classmates were already lining up and picking teams. All of the ones who wanted in on the action were on one team, and those who wanted to watch went on the other. Aleks was forced to go on the spectator's team as they went to their side of the field. As soon as the coach blew the whistle, the quarterback threw the ball to Aleks so hard that he had no choice but to catch it.
  He was thrown off his feet almost immediately by the jocks, who decided to dog-pile on top of him. His arm popped, luckily not dislocating, and he felt the bruises beginning to form around his ribs and legs. The boys took their time getting off of him, and several stepped on his hands.
  His self-defence mechanism began to take over, and his mind was soon a pain-filled haze. By the time the period ended, everywhere but his face was bruised and he had a slight limp.
He arrived late to his library period, but his teacher only gave him a concerned glance. He spent the period with his iPod playing his favourite band, Scratch21, and other music. He mentally sang along as he shelved the returned books and cleaned the shelfs.       
The library was his paradise, and he savoured its serenity. It was also a nice place to be alone. He could pass a whole year away, or so it seemed, getting lost in mystical lands of colour and unique setting. He liked to pretend he was in the story, laughing along with his "friends" as they went on adventures.
  But, as the bell rang for the final one that day, the spell was broken and he was back to his world, the one he loathed but was stuck in.
He was about to open his locker when he remembered it was Thursday. Thursdays and Tuesdays were his favourite days of the week because not only did he have library, he had track.
He hadn't applied for track, but, rather, was recruited. After the captain had witnessed him running down the halls, unaware that he was running from his loyal, violent pursuers, and was amazed by his speed, form, and natural acceleration. Over the next few weeks, the captain, Chase, had put all of his efforts into recruiting him. Notes were left in his locker, he was never left alone, and one day he finally agreed.
  Track had become another of his havens, because when he was running he could leave behind everything and focus on the finish. Chase and the other track kids always told him how good he was, but he always denied it with quickly shaking his head and flustered hand gestures. Aleks had become close to the team, though not outside of school, and they always tried to get him to hang out with them. They had yet to get him to agree.
  Aleks grabbed his track bag from his locker and put everything else away. He would go get his backpack later.
Running through the halls, fast-walking after reprimand from a teacher, he made it outside and to the outdoor track locker room. He hesitated slightly before entering.
Everyone looked up as he walked in.
Multiple cries of "Aleks!" and "Mikelov!!!!" greeted him. Aleks looked down, slightly embarrassed even though he was used to it. Making his way to his locker, several of the boys ruffled his hair or punched him lightly in the shoulder.
He changed into his track uniform, which he found to be much better than the Phys Ed one. It had black, semi-loose track pants, a green undershirt, and a black jacket with the school emblem on it. He felt more comfortable in the uniform, not just because it showed less of his skin.
He walked out towards the track with Chase and Daniel, another upperclassmen who the team liked to think of as the track team's cheerleader.
"Hey, man. How've ya been? Do anything cool yesterday?", Dan asked.
Aleks shook his head and smiled slightly, tilting his head to ask him the same question back.
"Nah, I've been hanging with this guy.", he groaned, pointing to Chase.
"Hey!"
Aleks was left behind as Chase chased Dan around the track. The track team didn't have a coach at the moment because of legal problems, specifically child molestation.
The school was going to shut down the program until the team protested, loudly. They managed to destroy three classrooms before the principal relented, and the team was now led by Chase.
Chase had finally tackled Dan to the ground, and after he said "Mercy." he went to stand in the middle of the field and blew his whistle.
The other boys gathered around and waited for him to start speaking.
"So," he said. "We've got the tournament next week. Dan, I want you to take the rest of the long distance runners and take practice laps. Work on breathing."
They headed over to the far side of the track, and as Dan passed he patted Aleks lightly on the shoulder. They exchanged smiles, and a few other kids did so as well.
Once they had started warming up, Chase continued.
"I heard this rumour about a few new kids that are going to be participating this year."
He smirked.
"We're going to have quite the challenge, but what they don't know is that we have a secret weapon."
Seeing the confusion on the sprinters' faces as he paused, Chase stepped forward and slithered his arm around Aleks' shoulders, pulling him to the front.
"This guy right here."
Aleks made frantic hand motions, which were ignored as Chase laughed.
"Aleks, we all know you're one of the fastest guys out there, don't be modest. We have one more week. I'll be training you guys myself, so be prepared."
With that the group got into a line by the 100 meter mark. Chase walked to the other end and got out a stopwatch and his fancy light up clipboard (which he loved to show off even though you could hardly see it in the day).
The first person in line was David, one of the shorter of the group, though still much taller than Aleks. He bent down to get in the starting position, and when the whistle was blown he shot off.
"21 seconds, not bad. Keep training though. Try to increase your cadence."
"Got it."
He went to the back of the line and two others went, getting around the same speed with different advice. Then, it was Aleks' turn.
Without him noticing, the long distance runners stopped to watch. Aleks took a slow breath, visualizing the movements. When Chase blew the whistle, he lunged.
Aleks running was probably one of the most mystifying events that a person could witness. He seemed to fly toward the finish, looking perfectly at ease, with such a tremendous speed that it seemed God-like. (Exaggeration :$)
Checking his watch in awe, as was everyone else, he read off,
"15 seconds! You got faster!!!"
The rest of the team came forward to congratulate him, though he denied their praise. Track was the one place where Aleks was practically worshipped. Everyone thought of him as their little brother, and they were like a family.
Aleks was smiling as he avoided a head lock. He secretly likes their praise, mainly because it seemed like they were the only people who cared about him. He moved to push his glasses up, and it was then when he noticed him.
Standing off to the side, on the other side of the fence and across the street, was a man looking to be around his age.
He was tall and somewhat muscular, looking casual in black skinny jeans and a v-neck sweater. His eyes pierced into him, but Aleks couldn't look away. He watched as the mysterious figure waved slightly and smirked, then walked away.
The spell was broken. Ignoring the concern of his team, which he could barely hear over the sound of blood rushing to his head, he wondered,

Who is he?

To Be Continued...