The bell rings shrill and scorchingly over the campus, releasing a dawned feeling of relief over the students who trudged lazily out of the classrooms. Lisa grabbed her books and bags, cringing slightly when she heard the messy papers crinkle against the base of her satchel. She brushes her hair back, tousling the tawny strands into a somewhat attractive mess.
She runs out of the room, standing out amongst the zombie-like kids like that lone stubborn weed in her mother's garden that refused to budge.
"Shoot...." She mutters, her face getting hot and red as her feet beat against the blatant concrete of the foyer. "I'm going to be late."
She propels forward, her long hair whipping behind her like a banner of chaos. She spots the two-fold blue building and pushes open the door with a very badly vandalized symbol of a woman on the palisade that looked more like a rabid donkey.
The locker room remains deserted and clean, and she curses under her breath, jamming a key into the small slit of the hole inserted into the metal barrier. She swings it open, ripping open her bag and spilling out its contents before grabbing her inhaler and shoving it back in.
Her shirt nearly rips when her head rams blindly into the neckline instead of through the collar and she sputters, almost swallowing the lint. She slips on the shorts her school had distributed and pushes the bag back into the small compartment, not bothering to shut it.
Who'd want to steal sweaty gym clothes anyway?
"Lisa? Going once...going twi-" Says a middle-aged man cad with knee-length blue shorts to represent the diminishing spirit of the school and a bright yellow shirt that probably would've hurt your eyes more than the sun.
"Here !" She calls, cursing herself for the small bead of sweat she felt slither down her back.
The man nods, simply pointing the end of the chewed pen at her and another girl. She watches the pen motion her to the track, following it.
Her feet had numbly dragged her over to the start of the oval track, the girl beside her with her hair in a french plait and fake nails.
"Is she coming here to put on a show ?" Lisa mumbles under her breath, trying not to be irritated when she flips her obnoxiously scented hair in her direction.
The whistle rings through the air, and she watches the coach's podgy finger press the button on the stopwatch, her feet starting before her mind told her to. She rushes forward, ignoring the burning in her calves and sprinting as if her life depended on it. She'd expected the girl and her rudely over-the-top nails to be right on her back, tailing her intensely, but no.
The second participant in the race remains far behind. Lisa's eyes start to burn, her hair whipping mercilessly against her back. Soon enough, her foot lines up with the red line at the end of the track, and the scene before her floods back into her vision.
"Pass." The coach grins, motioning to the bench. She thumps down, trying not to breathe too heavily; It was embarrassing.
"Goddammit, why didn't I bring my inhaler ?" She mutters, slamming her fist against her chest.
"Ace of the girls' team this year, I suppose." The mature voice brings her back to reality. She grins through her exhaustion.
"Show off." She hears a student mutter. Her eyes whip through the faces that were busy staring and finally, she lands on one that stares loathingly at her.
His doe eyes stare her down, a slight lining of tears rimming his eyelids when he refuses to blink. "Idiot." She mouths back, making them slightly taller boy next to him laugh.
"Asshole." He mimics back, his arms crossed sternly across his chest.
A herd of students shepherds her to stand with them for a group photo, and she ends up pressing herself right near the cocky boy. "Bambi." She hisses under her breath.
"What ?" He scoffs, his teeth gritted.
"You look like a deer." She reasons.
"I'm not waiting all day, let's take this picture !" The coach roars over the 4 girls and 4 boys standing to take a school team picture. He nudges her rib with his elbow, making her stumble and ruin the perfect shutter of the image.
"Ah, great! Now we've to take it again." The man grumbles, stomping back to the camera with the neon yellow shirt glowing blindingly bright.
She stands back in her spot, her feet cemented between the lines of the runway she'd just ran across. Their hands battle each other constantly, their fingernails pricking each other and hoping to pierce through their palms.
The shutter clicks and a polaroid picture slips out, making the students ease up. The coach flips the picture over, showing it to her. "What do you think ?"
Her eyes scan from left to right, scowling when she spots herself and that damned boy in the middle. Everybody else was smiling, but they looked like they'd went to a funeral before the camera flash.
"It looks good." She laughs awkwardly, looking deep into the picture and regretting it almost immediately.
Their hands...
They looked like they were holding each other's hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She slips on the sweatshirt from earlier that day, looking both ways before puffing gusts of air into her mouth and throwing the inhaler in her locker before anyone could see. She slams the lock on and grabs her bag hurriedly, trudging out the locker room.
A lanky figure leans against the brick wall, wearing black ripped skinny jeans and a plaid red and black button-up which was worn like a jacket over a plain shirt.
"Hey !" She smiles, making the boy push his phone into his pocket and take her in a hug.
"Long time no see, Pranpriya."
"Goddammit, I told you not to call me that." She growls, smacking him upside the head and jumping on his back. "Carry me."
"How polite of you to ask." He says sarcastically, his hands grasping her tight anyway.
She puts her index finger out, stretching it straight ahead with her bold eyes focused on nothing in particular.
"Charge !"
YOU ARE READING
Opposites Repel - Liskook
RomanceA reason you should read this book ? It's got loads of well thought out, long chapters. Not good enough ? The grammar is coherent. You're welcome.
