About a Loser

Chapter 14

Gemma's POV

I make a sharp turn, pulling my car onto the school's parking lot, and jump out. It is taking up three parking spaces at once, which is a small miracle, considering how small it is, but I cannot be bothered to care right now. There's no one else here anyway, it's not like they're gonna catch me. They're all still at the track, watching everyone else race. Probably not caring about the fact that some random girls relay team got disqualified because they dropped the baton and didn't finish the race because "what's the point if you're going to be dead last anyways"? Quote, unquote. Apparently our last runner, a girl who goes by the nickname of Twix, didn't see a difference between being last and being disqualified.

Maybe she just didn't want to run. Stupid bitch.

I walk over to the track and climb over the fence. I left immediately after the race because I just don't feel like talking to anyone right now, or even being around anyone, especially not Twix. Who still has one more race to go and is probably going to smash it, now that she isn't tired from the relay.

I feel like doing a shit ton of 400s today.

After a quick warmup, I crouch down as if I was doing a blockstart. I never do them, and I'm missing the block, but I don't even care right now, alright?

The air smells like rain and the track beneath me is slippery. One deep breath, and I run off towards the pain.

Embrace it, Crazy. Embrace your burning lungs and your cramping legs, embrace, the sweat on your forehead and the wish to stop.

I stop, breathing heavily. I hate running. I want nothing more than to quit, leave this damn place and never set foot on it ever again.

Twenty seconds of rest left. I feel a raindrop hitting my bare arms, then another one, and soon it's pouring down as if someone had put the entire pacific into a bucket and emptied it exactly on this track.

The angels are crying about my failure. How funny. Why is it that I don't feel like laughing at all?

I get ready to do another lap, feeling the tears run over my face and mix with the rain. People always say they like rain because you can't see the tears then. That's bullshit though. I mean, you still get puffy red eyes and a running nose, don't you? Rain doesn't give you that reaction, except if you're allergic of course. In which case you wouldn't like the rain either.

No, the similarity to tears isn't what makes rain a good thing. It's more the way in which clouds darken the sky, the uncomfortable feeling you get when your soaked clothes start sticking to your body. It's truly fitting, isn't it? Rain never fails to portray a bad mood.

I start running again, even though I can feel myself slowing down from exhaustion after just a couple of steps.

When I finish the lap, I hear a car pulling into the parking lot.

That's when common sense should kick in.

I shouldn't be here. I'm breaking the rules right now. What if they punish me? Kick me out of school? What if it's coach? What if he yells at me?

That's what I should be thinking.

Instead, there's just this awful numbness. I wish I was afraid like I used to be. I wish I was the girl terrified of any human interactions that first set foot on this track weeks ago.

I'm not. I just don't care.

I keep running.