Nothing's Fine

• 3: Distracted •

Charlie

            After school, I made my way to track and field practice, ready to warm up. I did the middle-distance events 1500 metres, mile, and 3000 metres use to running for pretty long periods of time. Usually, I had one of the best times, even beating some of the guys, but today I was undoubtedly distracted.

"Ross!" Coach Elle screamed. I stopped mid stride and jogged over to her.

"Yes Coach?" I sensed her disappointment in my times. She looked down at the stopwatch in her hands with a frown etched into her facial features.

"What's up with you? You're not at your usual time," she said.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, the beginning to one of my most commonly used lies. "I'm just a little distracted."

"Then get your head in it, girl," she pushed.

"Right, sorry." I nodded, shaking out my legs, before heading back onto the track. As I ran, my mind wandered no matter how hard I tried to keep it focused on moving faster. Instead, I could only think about how awkward it would be to tutor Dallas. How weird it would be to be alone with him. How I wasn't sure if I'd be a good tutor or not.

I narrowly avoided running to one of my fellow runners and heard Coach Elle's whistle blow aggressively. I froze and closed my eyes for a moment in anticipation.

"Ross!" she yelled. "I think you're done for today."

"W-what?" I stuttered out in confusion. I've never went home early from practice unless I was sick or injured. I've seen Coach Elle sent other kids home early if they were goofing off or unfocused, but it wasn't the norm for me.

"You look stressed," she said softly. "I don't want you to hurt yourself because you're distracted. So, go home, and I'll see you next week."

"Yes, Coach. Sorry," I said. She gave me a smile before turning back to the rest of the track team. She blew her whistle as she jogged over to them.

"Conditioning! Line up!" she bellowed.

I walked over to where my stuff was and changed out of my track cleats, threw sweatpants over my tiny running shorts, and put on my sneakers. I sighed as I gave my team a last look as they trained without me.

Stupid Dallas, I thought as I grabbed my backpack.

***

I showered when I got home before throwing jeans and a brown sweater on. I grabbed my backpack and threw on a jacket and my shoes before heading out the backdoor. I launched myself up onto the fence easily – perks of being a street kid – and climbed down on the other side. In less than a minute, I was knocking on Emery's backdoor. Within seconds, I saw a flash of straight black hair flying down the stairs and brightly coloured mismatched socks sliding towards me. Emery threw open the door and pulled me inside without a greeting.

"Ugh! Finally!" she whined.

"Finally? I'm home early!" I laughed, pulling my sneakers off.

"Okay, yeah, but I've been dying to talk to you! You didn't tell me what Dallas said at lunch and I've been on a cliff hanger ever since!" Emery said. She was right, Brenna was telling a story when I came back, and Phoebe looked like she didn't want to hear anything pertaining to Dallas and I. So, I finished my pasta, and the lunch bell rang.

I was barely balanced before she started dragging me upstairs to her room. She had a baby pink comforter on her bed and fluffy pink pillows that matched her rug and curtain. They stood out against the dark brown wooden floor and white walls. She had a bright painting of one of Monet's Water Lilies paintings hanging on the wall behind her bed. It was all very her. The moment we were inside, she closed the door and dramatically turned to me.