Green Hill University (Sonadow College AU)

Chapter 6

Sonic

Speed. The world around him passed in a blur as Sonic pushed himself to go faster. The only things he could hear were his heaving breaths and the sound of his shoes against the track. This is what he loved about running—the rush. The energy. As soon as he shot off, his mind went quiet and his only focus was chasing the finish line. For a moment, nothing else mattered.

Sonic.

The track.

The thrill.

The click of a timer broke through and Sonic slowed to a stop. He glanced behind him to the other panting runners, and felt a swell of pride. He had outrun them all.

As the runners heaved their lungs out, Sonic, taking a hearty swig from his water bottle, turned towards the track coach standing on the sidelines—a large purple and white cat who everyone seemed to just know as "Big."

Sonic had laughed, "C'mon, what's his actual name?" The rest of the team had just shrugged. People had questioned the same thing before and never gotten a straight answer—Big the cat was an enigma. A large, sandal-wearing enigma.

With his wide eyes and slow, bumbling speech, most assumed Big wasn't smart enough to pass the fifth grade, much less receive enough education to secure a faculty position at a semi-respected university. Sonic didn't mind the guy, though. He was nice enough, and if his coaching would lead the team to more wins, then that was all Sonic cared about.

"Good job, everybody," Big congratulated, clapping his gloved hands. "Your times are getting faster." Big paused, visibly thinking through his next sentence. "Now, let's—"

The sharp sound of a skateboard on a rail cut off Big's instructions before they began. Everyone's eyes went to the green bird grinding down the rail of the stairs to the stadium where the track was. Landing with a perfect kickflip, he caught his board in one hand while sliding up his tinted goggles with the other.

Piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd and his mouth curled up in a cocky smile. "What's up, fuckers," he said, pointing obnoxious finger guns towards the crowd.

Sonic sneered at the sight. Jet the hawk. Sonic had heard about this guy before he even came here. Only a sophomore, Jet already had a reputation for being the fastest one on the team, setting most of the recent records in the league. He was good—and he knew it. He walked around with an air of self-importance, always sporting a sickening grin.

He had given Sonic a patronizing grin as soon as they met. "Oh, how cute. Are you the new waterboy?"

Immediately, Sonic had went on the defensive. "Actually, I'm on the team," he said dryly. "And I'm on the fast track to being the star runner of this team."

Jet had eyed his thin form, his old, worn Soap shoes. "Uh-huh," he'd drawled. He snapped his eyes back up to Sonic, ever-present smirk already spreading. "Good luck, kid. You'll have to beat me, first." He'd laughed in Sonic's face before turning on his heel and striding from the room, still chuckling.

If Sonic had hated this guy before, that interaction had only strengthened it. Sonic officially had a vendetta. He would shatter every record this guy had ever set, one by one.

"Jet, you're late," Big observed unhelpfully.

"Oh, good job, big guy. I'm surprised you know how to read a clock." Jet's voice was dripping with sarcastic astonishment, but any subtlety went over Big's head.

Big just smiled. "Well of course I can, Jet. When the big and the little hands high-five each other on the 12, that means you're late!"

Jet didn't dignify this with a response, kicking his skateboard over towards the bleachers and striding over towards the other runners, seemingly oblivious to the annoyed glances being thrown his way. He eyed Sonic as he stepped up, challenge flashing in his gaze.

Sonic's glare only hardened.

Big clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone, let's work on getting our mile times faster. Everybody in position!"

Sonic took his place at the starting line, Jet shoving his way in beside him, stretching his feathers in a showy display. Sonic did his best to tune him out, focusing on the heat of the sun and the feeling of his heart thudding in his chest.

Big fired the starting pistol and they were off.

---

Sonic sulked in the locker room as he shoved his gear in his bag. Jet had beaten him again—but just barely. If Sonic hadn't stumbled on that last mile, he would've bypassed Jet before he could even blink.

Still, Jet used it as an opportunity to gloat about his victory, loudly espousing his bullshit to anyone who would listen.

"Ha! A year and a half, and people still can't beat my records," he laughed. "Soon enough, I'm gonna be the fastest track star in the nation. After I graduate, I'll be an Olympic athlete. I already have recruiters scouting me out."

The people around him seemed in awe of Jet's proclamations of success, but Sonic only half-believed what he was saying. Jet spun wild stories all the time to make himself look cooler than he actually was.

Even still, Sonic felt the unease crawling into his mind. Even for all his false bravado, Jet seemed on a one-way track to success. With the glint in his eye and the smirk on his beak, anyone could tell Jet had had this planned from the beginning, following a carefully-laid-out plan that made his childhood daydreams a reality. He considered every possibility, every opportunity.

He had the world at his fingertips already. And here was Sonic.

Compared to Jet, Sonic had nothing—just a bunch of half-formed dreams and vague desires.

He remembered sitting in the school counsellors' offices in middle school, fresh out of Emerald Hill's annual career assembly. "And Sonic, what do you want to be when you grow up," they would ask.

Sonic would always grin and perk up. "I wanna run!"

That answer would always get him a laugh and a pat on the head—until it didn't. "Yes, but what do you want to do? Who do you want to be, Sonic?"

Sonic had tilted his head at this. He knew he wanted to run—what else was there to consider? "Well, I guess I want to be the fastest runner alive," he had shot back with a laugh.

"That's not enough Sonic. You have to know where you're going. Life won't wait on you to decide."

Sonic had always waved that notion off. The future was unpredictable—what was the point in planning for it? Sonic operated on the belief that everything would eventually turn out okay. Why would he want to waste his life worrying about everything that could be?

He would rather focus on the now, on his friends, on laughter, on fun nights. On getting the most out of every single breath he took.

But as he heard Jet give another self-aggrandizing speech, he was forced to consider the possibility that the future wouldn't wait—couldn't wait—and everything would fall apart without him noticing.

Sonic stifled a wince. Despite his snobbish attitude, Shadow's words got to him. It awoke something within him. Something small. Something... unsettling.

He shook his head before these seeds of worry could grow into something more. This was a problem for another time. He shut the flimsy metal door of his locker, leaving Jet and his threatening laughter behind.