Fate

-Tuesday, gym class

I hate gym class with a passion. Who enjoys running around in circles, while wearing a thin pink tee and shorts. Plus Coach Thomas is a pain in the butt, by making us girls do fifty pushups each time we have his class. Like hello, we're not guys. We don't have that much body muscle, so bug off dude.

"This is torture," Kim whispers.

I turn my head slightly to the left so I could see her clearly. "You think."

"No chatting." Coach Thomas's voice booms across the gym.

Oh do shut up, we're allowed to talk as much as we want. And you won't stop us.

"Do you have any plans after school?"

Kim looks at me and then at Coach Thomas, then me again. "Yes, I'm going out with Nick."

"That's amazing, enjoy," I say, stretching for my toes.

Kim glances once again at Coach Thomas. "Why isn't he shushing us?"

Straightening my back, I hop from foot to foot, walking it out. "Don't know, don't care."

That's when I spot Amy sneaking into the room, fashionably late.

"You're late," Coach acknowledges, "Those who are late are not welcomed."

No, don't make her go; I need to speak to her.

"But I'll make an exception just this time. Hurry up and begin your pushups."

Now, this is the life. You know I changed my mind this power isn't stupid at all. It's AMAZING!

"Yes, sir," she squeaks, getting down to work.

"Hey, Amy." I maneuver around the girls lined up on the floor doing pushups and lay down beside Amy.

She looks at me with huge, wide eyes. "What do you want?"

"To talk." I give her a sweet smile.

She doesn't return the smile. "Not interested."

Oh, the cold shoulder. I hate the cold shoulder.

"Um, how are you?"

"I said I'm not interested."

But you are, you are very interested.

"How are you?" I repeat.

She sighs. "Miserable."

I keep my voice low. "And why is that?"

"Life sucks."

And then she's standing up and heading for the door.

"Wait," I cry, running after her.

"Amy Finkle and Lisa Brown get back here now or you'll get detention," Coach calls after us.

No, you're letting us go and no detention.

I follow her out of the room and down the long hallway to the girl's bathroom.

"Why are you stalking me?" She leans against the sinks.

"I, honestly, I don't know. I just have this feeling you could use some help."

She scoffs. "I don't. And if I did, I don't want any help from you."

Ouch, that was not harsh at all. "Please, I'm meant to help you. Let me help you." Never thought I'll be here begging Shy Amy to let me be her heroine. Who figured?

"Why would you say that?" She watches me, her eyes crinkled at the sides.

I open my mouth to speak, just as the bell rings above head.

"I have to go," she says. And then she's gone.