of her gym locker and shoves it in her bra to make her boobs look uneven. “Look at me I’m We…en…dee.”
Vianna sits back down and curls herself into a ball with her hands over her stomach while simultaneously crying and laughing. She lifts her head from her knees, “Stop, you’re killing me.”
“The musical’s over.” I pull the sock out of Natalie’s bra and throw it in her face. “Boley’s gonna kill us if we don’t move our butts out to the weight room.” The locker room is empty. We run out and sneak behind another group, barely arriving to class in time. I exhale.
“Close,” Boley says without looking up. He’s so serious. Moms may have eyes in the backs of their heads, but our gym teacher has them all over. The mirrors in the room don’t help us, either.
Mr. Boley doesn’t tolerate tardiness or unruliness in his weight room. We’re expected to show up on time and in blue, Stallion royal or navy blue. We can wear other colors if the shirts say Pine Gulch on them. He only wears Stallion Blue, and the only time he doesn’t wear sweat pants, a t-shirt, and a matching jacket is when he’s coaching basketball. Then he wears khaki slacks and a pressed Stallion polo.
I used to wear a pink Pine Gulch High t-shirt, because I could. But it only brought more attention, so I stopped. Now I wear a blue tank or t-shirt to class every day. This allows me to fold in with the rest of the class, especially on days I’m late. I’m still wondering why I agreed to waking up earlier.
Strength and conditioning class doesn’t require much athletic ability. The class consists of weights and cardio. Some of the serious sports nuts take strength and conditioning along with the power weights class, more for the conditioning than the strength. That explains Jack stretching in the front of the room. I face Vianna and give her a suspicious look. She smiles.
“Time to run, ladies.” Boley smirks at the three of us. The tone of his voice is mocking. Not nice. But he does have us pegged. The class walks to the outside track together. Jack is in the front. Thank God the mercury in the morning is usually between fifty and seventy degrees. It’s harder to run when it’s two p.m. and ninety degrees outside.
Even though the field is artificial, the surrounding area is not. The wild grasses and weeds are moist and the smell of the musky ash trees fills the air. It reminds me that winter is on its way. There’s this misconception about Colorado. Everyone thinks it’s cold and snows all the time. It doesn’t. The edges of the leaves are starting to turn from green to fall colors, but there isn’t any snow on the plains. The only snow is high on the peaks, and even though they look close, most of them are actually hours away from Pine Gulch.
Natalie, Vianna, and I huff in unison, which makes Boley grin more. Running for us means a fast-paced walk. I don’t even jog. By the time we make it out to the track the rest of the class has completed the first full lap, except for Jack. He trails behind. Not such a good football player after all. He’s gonna have to move faster than that if he plans on playing varsity.
“I should make you try and keep up with the new kid,” Boley chuckles. His arms are crossed. He stands confidently, watching the class circle the track.
“Bring it on,” I say.
Since Mr. Linebacker’s trailing behind I feel confident.
Natalie slaps my arm, and hard. “Ignore her, Boley. Massie doesn’t know it yet, but she’s so crushing on the new boy.”
My head spins. “I’m not and he can’t even…”
“Shut up, Massie. Take a look at the track.” Natalie slaps me again.
I slap her back, but then I look. My face sags forward and my eyes widen. “What lap is he on ?”
Boley waits to answer until Jack reaches the starting point again. “His third. Still insist on…‘bringing it on’?”
“Nope.” I hightail my ass closer to the green and move my legs. The further you are away
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