by B. F. Simone
“I don’t plan on making this a regular thing.”
He grabbed the duffle bag from her and she almost fell over.
“Easy!” she said, nearly bumping into a lady laughing like a horse.
“Do you want it back?”
Why was he like that? As soon as he seemed tolerable, maybe even pleasant to be around, he’d turn back into a giant turd.
“Tristan! Katie!” Lucinda called from somewhere. It was amazing how easy it was to recognize someone’s voice when the very sound of it put you on edge. She was still pissed and it was written all over her face when Katie saw her marching up from the crowd. She was carrying two tote-bags. “Here,” she said to Tristan handing him the smaller of two bags. “I brought you both a lunch, considering you’re were probably too busy to remember to make one. Go get ready, the games are about to start. We won’t be able to watch until the third event, but make sure to eat during the lunch break. Katie, what are you wearing—I don’t even want to know.” She handed Katie the second bag and stalked off. Katie watched her walk to Will.
She spoke to Will and he looked up at Tristan then Katie. He raised his eyebrows at her then the duffle bag in Tristan’s hand. His shoulders sank. Did he know? Katie turned around just as he started to make his way to her.
He was the one who called her dad. He said he’d let her tell him, yet he called. He knew how her dad was. He betrayed her. If he had let her do it on her own time, she wouldn’t be wearing this dumb shirt or carrying around the stupid duffle bag at stupid sports day.
When Katie walked into the gymnasium, she was the only student not wearing this years gym shirt. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she wasn’t the only bright blue in a sea of deep green. Not only was she going to lose every event, but she was also wearing her own loser flag.
Brian laughed at her while standing with his new posse.
What a friend.
Katie was relieved when she saw Allison, but quickly dodged behind a few parents when she saw the look of demonic death on her face. She must have still been mad about her dad not showing up. At first, Katie thought it a stupid thing to be angry about. They weren’t in elementary anymore—but the more she looked around the gymnasium the more she realized there were just as many adults as students. Maybe everyone’s parents did show up. Everyone’s except hers, Allison’s, and Tristan’s.
“Excuse me!” said a voice on the loud speaker. The Principle, Mr Boyle, was on stage looking as dumpy and confused as ever. It was the way his eyes were shaped, they always made him look surprised. “Okay, thank you, settle down—okay, can I have the students all come to the front, parents to the back—just like that, oh not you—you there in the blue. Oh you are a student? My mistake—”
Katie tried her hardest to hide that her face was starting to resemble a shiny tomato.
“You look more like someones kid sister. Do you realize your shirt says Hamilton Middle School?” Tristan said behind her.
“It was the only clean shirt I had!” Katie spun around as the Principle droned on about the annual sport event and the rules.
Katie eyed Tristan’s green shirt. It fit. Too well, most of the boys’ shirts were loose waiting to be grown into. His fit.
“—Please, last year we had an issue with marbles on the track field. I deeply encourage you from cheating—”
“Stop staring at me,” Tristan said, furrowing his brow.
“I’m not staring at you.” Katie turned her back on him. “Your shirt is just way too tight for a boy.”
“—Parents, remember your place is on the sideline not the wrestling mat. We do not want to repeat the episode with the broken nose—”
She couldn’t get the image of his shoulders in the shirt out of her mind. What the hell? She focused on the butt of the boy a few people in front of her. It was plump and cute. She squinted, focusing on it. It wasn’t that cute. Actually it was a little flat.
“Christ, Katalina.”
“Then stop listening.”
“I’m trying!”
“Shhhh—” she heard behind them.
“—And so, I wish everyone good luck! Remember if it hurts, you’re doing it right, if it bleeds your doing it wrong and should get assistance right away. You know who you are.” Mr. Boyle looked at the crowd. “Let’s get started! 1st years, stay here and help pull out the mats, 2nd years please go to the pools, 3rd years if you will follow Mr. Carver to the tracks. And 4th Years to the Field Study classroom.”
The gymnasium erupted into noise and movement. For a second, Katie wondered if she could be considered a 1st year. She’d have a fighting chance with the 9th graders, but Traci had already told her it didn’t work that way during one of their long tutoring sessions.
The first person Katie looked for was Tristan. She needed to stop doing that. She looked for Allison instead. Allison wasn’t hard to find, she was the red-head charging through the crowd to get to the back doors.
On the way to the track, Katie felt heavy. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch. When she saw the obstacle course she wondered if she could feign dizziness and sit this one out. She lost her nerve as Mr. Carver split them into five groups and lined them up based on rank. Where did he find a green and white checkered tracksuit?
Katie and Tristan were in the first group and in the last lanes. He explained the obstacle course but most students ignored him placing bets on their times. They might have done it before, but Katie tried hard to pay attention to the order. Was she suppose to climb the wall first, or after crawling under the rope…or after swinging over the pit of mud?
Her stomach flipped as they got ready to start.
Three.
She wasn’t ready for this.
Two.
She should have taken it more serious.
One.
She didn’t want to be the loser. God, she didn’t want to lose the whole thing.
Go.
She never made it over the wall.
She could take the fact that everyone had scaled the wall before she even reached it. She could take the fact that she was never going to get over it. What she couldn’t take was the way everyone’s parents cheered their kid on as Mr. Carver shouted encouraging words for her not to give up: “—come on, Katie. I know you have it in you—you’re a fighter!—Oh don’t let that stop you, beat that wall! Beat it to a pulp—oh that was a nasty fall. Are you okay?”
She gave up. Mr Carver wrote on his little wooden clipboard. She sat on the track trying not to feel like an epic loser as Tristan flew through the obstacles. He was leagues in front of everyone and it was so effortless. He looked—bored. He trotted to the finish line and walked towards Katie. He looked at the wall and frowned.
Allison was second. And looking desperately pissed when she saw Tristan. As everyone else made their way to the finish line Katie tried to muster a smile when Brian made his way over before the last two people. He didn’t return it.
Michael Heckler walked up to Brian gulping down a bottle of water. “Don’t try so hard, Man.”
Brian laughed, “If I did you’d get tired of me winning. I like to leave that to Allison.”
Michael laughed as they gave each other high-fives. Sometimes Brian was the biggest ass Katie knew.
After everyone finished the course, they rotated to the Field Study classroom. Katie had no idea how everyone was supposed to fit into the classroom or what they were expected to do in there.
“Five at a time please,” she heard a man say, it sounded like Mr Rhineheart. And there he was looking as dramatic as ever, waving people into the small room Katie and Tristan had worked in on Monday. When it was her turn, Mr. Rhineheart smiled at her. “Katie, nice to see you participating in the sporting events. Doing well I hope.”
“Ha, something like that,” she said, walking into the room. Allison and a few parents walked in behind her.
“Allison hit the button for me?” Mr. Rhineheart said as he closed the door.
Allison tapped
a yellow button by the door and the room began to move.
“Woah,” Katie said, reaching to grab onto something.
“It’s an elevator, Kay” Allison said.
“Oh.” It was strange. That was the first thing they had said to each other all morning. So much had happened yesterday. Normally Katie would have picked up the phone and called Allison at the slightest bit of news—like when she decided she wanted to dye her hair blue (lucky, Allison talked her out of that). Now, she felt like there was nothing to tell her. Maybe too much had happened.
“Who knew Tristan was that wicked fast? I could break his face.” Allison crossed her arms.
“Wha—what?”
“The race, he beat me by twenty seconds. He totally shouldn’t be allowed to compete.”
“Why?” Katie said. She felt like she didn’t know what to say to Allison. Like she was walking in a glass room with giant mallets for arms. Why was she being so weird? It was just Allison.
Allison stared at her then raised her eyebrows.
“Oh!” Katie nodded. Of course, he’s a vampire who acts like he’s lived a life full of back alley deals. Where did he get money from? The school uniforms were expensive. Katie heard Lucinda offer to pay more than twice. Then again maybe he had a job. She would have asked if he wasn’t so shady when it came to talking about himself.
“I swear if he beats me in targets I’m going to scratch out his eyes,” Allison said, stretching her arms. One of the parents moved away from her when she cracked her neck.
Katie smiled. “You’re kind of scaring me, and everyone else right now.”
“Can’t win if you’re not in the zone,” Allison said as the door opened again.
Katie gaped as she walked out into a room the size of the track field. It was set up like a maze. Maybe an obstacle course? Though, the course itself was less impressive than the entire room she never knew was there.
“We’re underground?” Katie said, following everyone like a lost kid in a crowd.
“Yeah, it’s the weapons room. We don’t really use it until next year. And today of course. Come pick out your gun.”
Katie stopped dead in her tracks. Gun? The hell? Did they expect her to shoot targets? They had kids shooting guns? Her shooting guns? Didn’t they know she was liable to kill someone?
“—I think I want pink—Kay?” Allison laughed at her. “Kay? You look totally freaked out right now. It’s a paintball gun. You have to pick your color.”
Katie breathed. She was relieved, but that didn’t stop her dread of losing yet another event. She wasn’t that good at shooting either. She picked the color yellow at random. Funny enough, Tristan’s favorite color. Or no, yellow was just one of them.
When everyone made it down to the room, Mr Rhineheart split the students into five groups. Katie was in the last group. She was glad this time, she had a chance to watch everyone else go first. She could study what they did and maybe use it to her advantage.
Brian was in the first group and he missed all but two targets. He laughed about it during and after. Katie wondered if he would still have taken it so lightly if Will and Lucinda were there. All the other parents seemed to root their kids on seriously, and the other kids took it just as serious.
Allison and Tristan were in the second group. They both shot every target beating last years record. Allison lost to Tristan by three seconds. Allison taunted him as they put their guns away.
“You know, I don’t count your wins because it’s cheating,” Allison said, contorting her face. She looked a little deranged.
“You don’t count my wins because you’re a sore loser. Besides, I really don’t care.”
“Then why don’t you just lose!” Allison poked him in the chest and Katie’s stomach slightly twinged.
“Would that make you feel better? Or would you feel better knowing your real competition is with someone like me?”
Allison opened her mouth to say something but stopped short. “You know what, Tristan. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Take it however you want. I really don’t care.” Tristan moved toward Katie, but didn’t say anything when he stood next to her. Allison looked pleased enough, but whenever she looked at the parents standing on the side shouting at their kids that dangerous look would cut across her face again.
It was Katie’s turn. She put on her goggles and she felt like everyone was watching her, mainly because she’d tripped over her feet when she stood at the starting line. She concentrated. At the start she was supposed to shoot the first target, but then duck at the on coming blue paint that pelted Brian across the face. The second target she should miss because it was an old lady. Then she’d hurry to the third one that she was supposed to shoot, then the fourth—
Mr. Rhineheart blew the whistle.
Katie shoot at the first one but missed it. She ran to the second one and forgot about the blue paint that stung as it hit her face. She ran through the third one and tripped over a cable. A Cable? Who leaves that lying around.
“Move.” A girl spat at her. Katie got up and kept going. She missed all the targets and accidentally shot a girl on the side of her head. Yellow paint splattered across her black hair.
“Bitch.” The girl screamed, but she kept running through the course.
When it was over Katie wanted to die, and the girl she shot, probably wanted to be the one to kill her.
“That was horrific,” she heard a lady say to another mom. She wanted to “accidentally” let off a few rounds of yellow on her stupid pretty, green blouse.
Tristan grabbed the gun from her. “Don’t listen to her. You might have missed all the targets, but you did manage to shoot a moving one.”
Was that suppose to make her feel better?
Mr. Rhineheart broke them for lunch. Katie, Tristan, and Allison went to her locker to grab the lunch bag Lucinda had given her. It was unsaid, but they were officially team, Screw Preliminaries. Neither of them had to say it out loud, it was in the way Allison stared at everyone with their parents in contempt, the way Tristan looked bored to death, and Katie’s score card.
They sat in silence until Allison said, “You know what. Screw this. I don’t care if my dad is a douchebag who won’t watch his daughter cream everyone except for this cheating asshole—no offense. I’m going to break every record. When his daughter is on the way to winning gold medals in the olympics, I’ll tell everyone it started on this day, when my father abandoned me.” Allison laughed a little manically. It was contagious.
Katie laughed, “And when I go into the genius world book for most epic fails in a competition, I’ll tell them it all started when I shot a girl in the head with a yellow paint.”
“A little morbid. We’ll work on it,” Allison said, pulling out three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, an apple, and two bottles of water.
“You’re going to eat all of that?” Tristan said.
“Got a problem?” Allison was obviously still very confrontational.
Katie opened the bag Lucinda packed and pulled out four sandwiches two bananas two waters and two fruit cups. Katie gave half to Tristan and he pushed it aside.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything,” she said, feeling like she was missing something obvious.
He stared at her. He smiled just enough to show her his teeth. His tongue ran across his canines.
It was the first time, in a long time, Katie had ever felt like he was far beyond a moody teenage boy. They weren’t fangs exactly, no sharper than her canines, but still, the way his tongue dragged across it—it was animalistic.
Tristan scoffed. “You’re making too much of it,” he said under his breath.
“Woah!” Allison said, looking between them. “You just did it, didn’t you?” She lowered her voice, “You read her mind. That’s so freaky, and cool.”
Katie focused on her sandwich, it was turkey and swiss. Lucinda always made good sandwiches, but she could never remember that Katie hated tomatoes.
Being in the gym made Katie want to puke up her lunch. Some students were already putting on padding. It meant that they were going to fight. What else did they need mats, pads, and helmets for? Not to mention, “Sensei Steve” was making sure students where wearing their chest pads correctly.
“This is probably the only event you might be able to score in,” Tristan said. They sat down on the bleachers. Allison was already changing into gear. Katie looked at the piece of paper one of the parents handed out to her as she entered the gym. It was a bracket. She had to fight at the third mat in fifteen minutes. She was fighting a boy named Adam. “You only have to get three hits. Your worst quality is you’re slow, but you can land hits if you try hard enough. These people aren’t that good.”
Katie gaped as she watched a boy do a Karate kick in the air. It was like a movie. She laughed out loud. “I’m not only going to lose, I’m going to get the bejeezus beat out of me. Wonderful!”
Tristan patted her on the back. It sent a pulse through her. It always caught her off guard when he touched her.
“Come on.” He lead her to the third mat. She started putting on the gear while two girls fought. They screamed a lot and Katie hoped she didn’t have to make the same weird sounds. “You’re doing it wrong,” Tristan said, pulling off one of her arm pads. “You have to be able to move. Unless you want to lose.” She stood still as he re-strapped the arm pads. Next were her legs. He watched her do it, only offering directions such as lower or higher. Last was her chest padding, and she managed to get her arms through, but felt like a small child when Tristan moved behind her and tied them.
Some people watched him tie her up and she felt embarrassed and proud. She didn’t know why and tried to bury it. Maybe because everyone else had parents helping and they just had each other. She flushed and could feel heat fill her at the thought. He made no sound or movement to show he was listening.
She wanted to focus on the fight, but she couldn’t.