Vanilla Girl

C o o k i e s N' C r e a m

ONE OF THE GOOD things about PE is the view.

Yes, you read right. The view.

Generally speaking, this should be my worst nightmare come to life given the fact that I suck at sport. 

Ok. I really suck at sport. 

You've ever seen those girls that manage to do everything wrong, the ones that are always picked out at the end of the row because everybody knows they can't hold a ball with steady hands?

Yep. That's me.

I'd like to think I have in me the ability to be a great player. It's just that I never put the effort on being one. If it's not what I like to do, why waste the time?

It's sad to be the last one to get picked. Well...I wouldn't say I get picked either, most like I'm the only option. Not even Wyona wants to have me in her team. And she's my best friend. I don't take it personally though, I know how competitive she can be when it comes to it.

But as we jog side by side around the track, those thoughts are quickly overtaken by the sight.

Just a few metres away, the guys are having their class, and all that amount of testosterone is enough to draw every pair of eyes towards them. It's not every day you get to watch a group of good-looking guys working out right? So when the opportunity presents itself, you need to make the best of it.

We keep jogging, but every now and then our eyes drift away to check them out. I wipe away the sweat trailing down my forehead and pray that my flushed cheeks and rugged breath aren't that obvious from a distance. 

The guys are dispersed on the court working on different exercises, push-ups, squats, planks. The display of muscles and rich laughs teasing us to look their way. I can make out Justin among them trying to show off.

"They are a tease." I hear a girl say, voicing my thoughts.

Every girl shows their agreement by replying or nodding their heads, but I can't help noticing how they all check their hair is in place and that there aren't any wet halos under their armpits.

I hold back a chuckle.

Five minutes later, we are all spread on the ground stretching our sore muscles. The boys have finished their workout and are now playing a game of soccer. Shouts, whistles and sharp voices can be heard from where we are standing.

My back is turned towards them as I stretch my arms and legs, chatting with Wyona and cracking a few jokes.

"Ok. Ok. I have a good one," She says. "Why can't a blonde dial 911?"

I purse my lips in thought.

"Because she lost her phone?" Asks Stephanie, a cool brunette with soft eyes.

"Because she doesn't find the numbered keyboard?" I say.

"Nuh-huh" Wyona shakes her head.

"Why?" Steph and I say together, looking at her expectantly. 

Wyona smiles, "Because she can't find the eleven."

We laugh and then Steph speaks up, "Did you hear the blonde that shoot an arrow into the air? She missed." We fall into a bubble of laugher again.

"Wait!" Wyona shouts, raising her hand in the air. "What do you call a bunch of blondes standing ear to ear?"

I frown.

"Deaf blondes? I don't know." Steph shrugs.

"Hey, not all blondes are stupid." Chimes a petite blond girl behind us.