by L.A. Jones
Chapter Five
By the time Aradia had changed for gym, she was madder than an Angry Bird, and Tristan might as well have been king of the Green Pigs. That makes Salem High their castle, she decided. “This won’t be like last time,” she said to herself like a personal mantra. “Green Pigs are shoddy craftsmen.”
She forced herself to believe she would get chances to tear that castle down and find real connections. The whole school couldn’t be filled with Tristans. She found one such opportunity even sooner than she’d expected.
Gym at SHS was split into four sections, with a quarter of the school year spent on each. Aradia’s first assigned section was Track and Field. She was a little late, thanks to her pit stop in the wrong locker room, so her fellow Trackers and Fielders were already assembled and doing stretches under the guidance of their instructor, Coach De Sylva.
Stretching his calves was a stunning Latino boy. He was darkly tanned, had a small black goatee, and, based on how tall he was doubled over touching his toes, would probably have a good six or eight inches on Aradia. His short black hair sparkled in the sunlight, either from perspiration or hair gel or genetic giftedness. Maybe all three. Aradia didn’t really care.
“What is it with this school,” she muttered quietly as she joined the stretching circle.
“Aradia Preston?” De Sylva asked from the center of the circle.
“Present!” she called back. “Sorry I’m late, Coach!”
He smiled kindly in response. He looked to be in his late twenties, but Aradia put him in his mid thirties instead. She had a gift for guessing ages, and she suspected De Sylva was older than he outwardly appeared.
“We already did a round of introductions, but I’ll sum it up. I’m Theodore De Sylva, these are your classmates.” As it happened, she already knew that. She’d read all the SHS website bios of her teachers and Facebook stalked the ones who had open profiles. De Sylva was one of the few who did. “First day lateness is excusable. Just don’t let it happen again. Deal?”
“You got it, Coach!”
“You could have told us we could be late in advance, Coach!” one of the stunning Latino boy’s friends joked. An almost equally stunning female friend, Aradia noticed with some animosity. Easy, girl, she cautioned herself.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. “Switch! Butterflies.”
In unison, the group moved to the next stretch. Aradia joined in with them, not bothering to catch up on the ones she had missed. She rarely stretched, was extremely flexible anyway, and had never pulled a muscle, so she didn’t see the point.
After a few more minutes, Coach whistled and barked, “Positions!” Everybody scurried about. Aradia presumed they’d been given assignments before she got there. She intended to ask De Sylva where she should go, but instead got distracted admiring her new crush jog easily and gracefully to a starting line on the track.
I wouldn’t mind lining up with him, she thought, shocking herself with her vaguely sexual suggestiveness.
“Preston!” Coach De Sylva yelled.
She snapped back to reality and ran over. "Yes, sir?”
"Laps today," he instructed. "Get to the track with Roy."
"Okay!" Aradia ran to the boy, Roy, and grinned sheepishly as she lined up with him.
He, in turn, gave her a curious stare.
One runs away, one throws you into the guy’s locker room, and now this one’s a starer. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Rai.
“Here’s the drill,” De Sylva coached. “One lap, four hundred meters. First to finish advances. Normally I keep this exercise same sex, but the two of you are the odd ones out.” He gave an apologetic glance to Aradia, as if to say that she didn’t really have a chance.
On the shrill bleat from the whistle, the pair took off. Roy sprinted like a greyhound around the first bend of the track. Yet if he was the hound, Aradia was the rabbit setting the pace. To the great surprise of Roy, De Sylva, and in truth, everybody present other than Aradia herself, she actually had a chance at winning the race.
Roy took the run seriously; she could tell he was a runner. She was too, but moreover, she wanted to prove everyone’s assumptions incorrect.
In truth, Aradia was somewhat surprised herself. She had to admit she was guilty of the same assumption as Roy: that the competition would be one-sided, the result a foregone conclusion. In that regard, they were both wrong. She was ahead, but she sensed he was holding back, saving his real speed for the final hundred meters.
She had rapidly thrown her hair back in a ponytail on her way from the locker room, but in her haste she had secured it rather poorly. Now the pounding on the track shook her hair band off and her shockingly vibrant hair blazed free behind her like the tail of an asteroid burning through the atmosphere.
Damn! she cursed. The drag will slow me down!
They were indeed going fast enough that the friction could be a factor. Aradia realized that the pair of them could have college scholarships lined up if they pursued Track. She’d have to try out for the team. She and Roy would be unstoppable on relay together.
She was right about the final stretch. As they edged around the second bend of the track, he opened up his speed in a way he rarely had before, and pulled ahead of her, managing to pass on the inside. Aradia realized, too late, that she should not have let that happen. She didn’t think it would matter, though.
Too soon, she quoted Vin Diesel to herself, chuckling internally. She’d happened to catch a Fast and Furious marathon on television a few days before the move. She was a sucker for an action movie or two… or five.
Only a moment later, she hit her own nitrous, opening up with all she had as well. With fifty meters to go, they ran abreast one another, neither showing any sign of slowing.
They raced on the track so fiercely that everyone else in the class, even those not waiting on their own turns to compete, stopped and stared.
And then something happened for Aradia which she rarely experienced. Her overly analytical mind quieted for a blissful, serene moment, and all she knew was air, sun, ground, and adrenaline. She went to a clear place with the intensity of the contest and she felt like she was flying.
Roy, without intending to, snuck a glance at her, and was amazed by the look of tranquil bliss on her face. He realized that while he was enjoying the competition, she was enjoying the race. At first he had been worried about losing to a girl. He knew his brothers would give him hell for that, no matter how worthy a competitor she was. He felt possessed by that look on her face though. He’d already noticed how attractive she was, but in that instant he saw her true beauty. It infected him, and took hold. He slowly grinned, and he too let go of everything but the run.
When they soared over the finish, their fellow students burst out cheering for them. Their coach gaped at them open mouthed, staring at the number on his stopwatch.
“That was under a minute!” De Sylva exclaimed, rushing over to the pair of runners. “Fifty-six point two seconds. Fifty-six point two! Aradia, if you shave four seconds off that time, you’d be an Olympic qualifier!”
She gulped down oxygen in a seemingly futile attempt to feed her starving lungs and muscles. “You, ah,” she attempted to reply. “You… really…”
“I think,” Roy interjected between his own panting breaths, “she’s asking… if you really want us… to go faster?”
“Well, I don’t know about you,” Coach replied. It was likely, but uncertain, that he was at least somewhat joking. “For you it would need to be more like ten or eleven seconds faster. But women’s times are higher. Four seconds, Aradia, and you’re there!”
“So then weighted… for gender,” Aradia sputtered, and even managed a wink at Roy, “I kind of won?”
“You two are crazy,” Coach replied. “Okay, go get some water, clear the track. Shayla, Jennifer! You’re up next.”
They jogged lightly, and without further conversation, to the water fountain. After long draughts for both of them, wit
h Roy allowing Aradia the first drink, they finally started to really catch their breath.
Roy straightened up and stared at Aradia again, this time with both admiration and curiosity evident. Aradia realized he wasn’t so good at hiding what he was thinking.
"You’re new around here,” he finally said.
Aradia gave him a half smile and replied, "So I am told."
Roy grinned, held out his hand stiffly, as if he wasn’t used to such formality. "I’m Roy. That's short for Reynaldo."
"Aradia," was her response as she took his hand.
"Yikes,” he whimpered. “You got a pretty firm grip. I mean, for a girl. I mean…"
"Uh...thanks," Aradia cut him off before he got his foot any further down his throat.
"So..." Roy trailed off, eager to start a conversation which did not center on his questionable show of masculinity.
He’s hot, and sweet, but gosh is he an awkward one.
Aradia thought about letting him fumble, finding it adorable, but took pity. "You're a pretty fast runner. Are you on the track team?"
"Nah. I’m more of a lone… runner," he replied. He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest now that they were on a more flattering topic. “Besides, I enjoy good-natured contests, but it gets a little too intense when it’s that formal. It kind of misses the point, for me.”
"Oh, thank goodness for that," Aradia chuckled.
“That was definitely a new PR, though,” he added, pride evident in his voice.
“PR?” Aradia replied.
“Personal record,” he explained. “Wait, you didn’t know that?”
“Well, geez,” she got defensive. “You’re a real sweet talker.”
“No, no!” he stammered. “I didn’t mean like that! I just meant, well, I’m shocked that you’re such a natural runner, that you don’t have any experience. You’d have known the term if you did. I’d assumed you did.”
She made a conscious effort to forgive his slip of the tongue. You wanted a connection, a friend. This guy seems genuine enough. Let it go, Rai.
“Well then,” she replied, feigning indignation. She could forgive him, but she’d make him sweat it a little bit. After a dramatic pause, she said, “I accept your praise, then.”
He paused a moment while he figured out what to make of her. When she cracked a smile, he realized he was through the woods, and beamed a toothy grin at her. It was the opposite of Tristan’s rehearsed smile. It was sloppy and so huge she wondered sincerely if he actually had a couple extra teeth in there, but it was real. I like real.
As they walked to the bleachers to do their rotation running up and down the stairs, Roy turned and said, "Which lunch do you have?"
"First lunch, why?" Aradia asked raising an eyebrow.
"I got that lunch too!" said Roy, again lighting up with that amazing smile. More than anything he could have said, she was flattered by the fact that she could make somebody smile like that. "Maybe we'll see each other."
"I hope so," Aradia said, slowly nodding her head.
"Well, then, I'll see you later," said Roy before reluctantly trotting to the guys’ group. Apparently they were doing stairs segregated by sex.
At least it gave him a graceful exit, Aradia thought as she smiled. He’d probably have been at my heels the rest of the period otherwise.
Aradia giggled and thought as she started bounding up and down the bleachers with a few other girls. Maybe moving here wasn’t such a bad decision after all