Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

Griffin is in front of me and he turns to hear my answer.
“Well,” I say, trying to focus on running and not the gorgeous
hunk watching me with the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen,
“I ran cross-country and long-distance track for three years at my
old high school.”
“How’d you do?” Griffin asks.
I can’t tell if he’s teasing or asking, so I answer, “I won the Western
Regional Championship twice.”
“What about the third year?”
This time I can tell he’s making fun—only to impress his obnoxious
friends, of course. Why else would he be such a jerk when he
was so nice to me this morning?
Well, while wanting him to smile at me someday might include
a laugh or two, I don’t actually want him laughing at me. It’s a fine
line. “Freshman year I came in second.”
He looks like he’s about to say something, but Coach Leonidas
interrupts. “Wonderful,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll bring a lot to the
team.”
“Thanks, Coach Leo . . .”
Okay, so Coach Z said his name, but I can’t remember how to
pronounce it. Everything in this country is a tongue twister.
“Call me Lenny,” he says. “Everyone does.”
“Thanks,” I say again, “Coach Lenny.”
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way,” he says, “let’s get
to the running.”
Everyone cheers—still full of the excitement of the first day of
the season and not yet worn down by miles and miles and miles of
running.
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