Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“Yeah,” he says, blushing a little. Pink looks good on his cheeks.
“To help you fly faster.”
“Thanks,” I say, blushing myself. “That’s sweet.”
“You running today, Travatas?” Coach Lenny asks.
“No way.” Troy backs away. “Just saying hello.”
“If you stay, you run.”
Troy turns to me, looking a little panicked. “I’ve gotta run. I mean
go.” He glances nervously at Coach Lenny. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He’s gone before I can say, “See ya.”
I don’t have time to laugh at his hasty escape, Coach Lenny blows
his whistle and calls us all to the starting line.
“I’m going to lead the course,” he says. “And I’ll be waiting back
here when you finish the circuit. Follow the path marked with white
flags.”
Holding up his stopwatch, he turns to the course, blows his
whistle, and starts the race. My heart rate kicks up at the shrill
whistle, knowing this is the moment I have to prove myself.
Monitoring my pace, I stay in the middle of the pack. I’ve always
been a strong finisher and it’s better if I conserve some energy for
the last kilometer than burn it all off at the start. A couple kids
bolted out of the gate and I know they will be running out of steam
halfway through.
I maintain my pace, just like Dad taught me.
Step, step, step, breathe. Step, step, step—
“Why bother trying out?”
Griffin’s question—from right next to me—startles me and I trip
over my own feet, but manage to stay upright and moving forward.
It takes several steps before I get my rhythm back.
79