Stupid Essie, with her stupid curly hair and stupid emotions.
Coach blows the whistle and I push my legs even faster than I thought they could go, making my mouth dry and lungs burn.
I reach the other side of the field in no time, ignoring the ripping sensation in my calf muscles as I prepare myself for the next sprint, hunching my body over as I brace my fingers on the ground beside my body.
Stupid Essie and her Stupid furry Crocs and her stupid fat dog and stupid British father.
"Dude, you need to slow down." Micheal warns breathlessly, jogging up beside me. "You're going to overexcert yourself before the game's even started!"
I take off again, blinded by sweat and taking in jagged, short, breaths. I don't even like Essie or her stupid t-shirts, so why can't I get her out of my mind?
I hunch over again, only this time, it was harder to get up.
"Irwin!" Coach barks ruthlessly. "Hustle!"
I try and stand up, but my legs stiffen, and my lungs feel like they can't get enough air. I take two steps before I'm on the ground again, my labored breaths sounding like they're being sucked through a straw.
"Coach!" Calum yells desperately, his flushed, worried face being one of the last things I see before I black out. "He's having an asthma attack!"
