Out of Your League

Chapter 1: Ben&Jerry's

Gabe to the side ---->

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Sweat dripped down my forehead. My breath heaving in and out of my lungs. It was getting a bit harder to breathe, but I had to make it. I had to beat it. Time was running out and I knew it. I just needed to push myself harder or this was all going to be a big waste.

"Come on! Run! Run! Faster! Faster!" A voice called out.

"Shut up!" I called back as I turned the corner and passed the white line. When I did, I jogged to a stop, panting and heaving. "How did I do?" I questioned my loud friend, who was cheering enthusiastically.

"You were forty seconds faster!" Chris shoved the timer into my face. "That's hella faster than last time!"

I laughed. "Please don't say that." Shaking my head, I walked over to the grass and picked up my water bottle, taking a long chug. "God, I'm glad I was faster. Then it wouldn't have been worth it to be out here at 8 in the morning on a Saturday."

"You're damn right!" He patted my back whole heartedly. "Now let's go get some ice cream. I was working up quite an appetite watching you go around that track for 7 minutes."

I smiled at him. "Of course. You always seem to work up an appetite. Even when you're doing nothing."

Chris rolled his brown eyes. "Come on. You're sweaty and gross. Wipe up and we can go to the gas station, pick up some Ben&Jerry's. What do ya say?"

Picking up a towel and wiping the sweat off my neck with it, I replied. "Sounds awesome. Double fudge sounds super good, but all this ice cream isn't gonna help me stay in shape. I'll have to do some more laps to make up for it." I laughed.

He scoffed. "Well, your little smoking habit isn't helping either. It's slowing you down. But we all know it's gonna take a bit more than a few laps to get that out of your diet, now don't we?"

I scowled at him, hating when he brought up the obvious. "Now who's we?"

He was silent for a moment, then snorted. "I guess you got me there."

We began to walk away from the track when we heard a few voices. But one stood out amongst the rest.

"Hey look! It's Goth Boy and his monkey friend!" Trent's grating voice rang out across the football field. A chorus of cackling followed.

"Don't turn around, Gabe. Don't give them that satisfaction." Chris whispered from next to me. More taunting was being spat at us, but we chose to ignore it.

I was just about to listen to Chris. Just for that second, I really was. Until a rock hit me square in the back. My back sharply stung for a moment, knowing that it would feel worse later. My hands balled up into fists. "Don't." Chris warned.

I didn't listen. Instead, I whipped around to see them. All of them. The rat jocks and their leader, Trent. They had all of their foot ball equipment laying in the grass, obviously ready for practice. Instead, they chose to waste their time insulting me.

"What? What the hell do you want?" I yelled across the lawn.

"Stop it!" Chris hissed and pulled on my sleeve. I shrugged him off.

"What do we want?" Trent questioned sarcastically. "We want you to get your freaky ass off of our field!"

I gestured to the pathway I was on. "If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to. But I'm sure you haven't noticed because your brain doesn't have the capacity to think of anything but yourself." Just as I replied, I saw a few more of the football players walk onto the field. One of them was looking at me, one that I recognized as Jordan.