“Pick up your feet Alexander!” Coach Riverton blew her obnoxious whistle in my ear as I passed her. The plastic, wood looking floor beneath my feet squeaked against my florescent sneakers.
“Sorry Coach!” I breathed out loudly as I started the fourth lap around the gym.
Heart: Gosh, I’m dying here!
Brain: One more lap! Come on, chant with me! One more lap! One more lap!
“Bring it in ladies!!” Coach Riverton called a few minutes later. Thank you! “Alright, now we all know it’s the dreaded Thursday. Which means combined activity with the boys.”
The group of girls groaned loudly.
“Hush up, ladies!” Riverton blew on her whistle, making her already red, blotchy face look like a dying blow fish. “The boys will be here soon. It’s dodge ball today, so go set up the balls. Now!”
And that, my friends, is how I found myself in the middle of a brutal boys-against-girls dodge ball game.
‘Who’s winning’, you ask?
Who do you think?
“Come on Jason, just put the ball down and walk away!” I called over to the group of boys huddling in the corner of the gym, in fear. Okay, so not really in fear. If anyone was cowering with fear, it should be me.
I glanced out of the corner of my eye over to the entire population of girls lined up on the benches. If you’re assuming that I’m the only girl left in this stupid game, your assumptions would be correct.
We were doing quite well, if I do say so myself, at first. Until ten out of the twenty boys got benched, that was when the boys decided to go all ninja with the dodging and throwing. The outcome?
Me. Over here. All alone.
This was so unfair! Where were Coach Barbs and Coach Riverton, when you needed them?
“If anyone is going to beg for mercy, don’t you think it should be you?” Kase smirked over at me from the group of boys still standing. Shut up, Mr. Smart Aleck.
“I’ve been standing over here for the past ten minutes, guys. You haven’t made a move to get me out! And it’s not like I could because you have all the balls!” I shouted out in frustration.
“That we do, my friend. That we do,” one of the other boys snickered in my direction.
“Oh. My. Gosh! Why do you guys have to be so…so…sick? I mean, really? Did you really have to twist my words? What is wrong with-” before I could even finish my lovely rant, I felt the stinging smack of foam and plastic nail me right in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of me before I even saw it coming. Once I reclaimed my bearings, I slowly looked up and made eye contact with the culprit.
Jason Richards.
“Gosh, Reg,” Jason chuckled as he jogged up to me from across the court, “Why didn’t you move?” Seriously? Come on, Reagan! Think of something…
YOU ARE READING
My Achilles Heel
HumorI learned a long time ago not to let things get to me. Things meaning people. People meaning Jason Richards. Sometimes I wonder if every human being created has been given that one person who might as well be the death of them. the strongest pers...
