Stories From 2011 (Dear Players, What's Mine, Queen Bee)

Dear Players...Chapter 9

I was in gym class now, still mentally scarred. I swear everytime I blink I see the mental image carved into my eyelid. So right now I was standing with wide, dry eyes trying desperately not to blink.

I look around as the people start filing into the room. I only knew of three people who were in this class for sure and they were Becka, Hank, and unfortunately Nick.

I smile and wave as Becka comes into view. She does some weird jumping jacks as she comes towards me. I shake my head in disapproval and she laughs.

“Well, it is gym class after all and I want to get my exercises out of the way.”

“I don’t think your retarded way of doing them counts.” Okay I know bitchy, but I’m trying to not hyperventilate again!

“Hey rude!” she replies and then shoves me. Since I’m in the middle of doing my own jumping jacks I topple over and take someone down with me.

I look down and scramble up when I see who it is. Unfortunately I slip and fall right back on Nick; my knee landing on his crotch. He lets out and “oof” and then rolls me off before yelling and holding his crotch.

“Chloe, were you trying to make sure I never reproduce?” He yells through his greeted teeth.

“I would be doing the world a favor.” I mumble under my breath, too bad he hears it.

“Hey!” he protests.

“Okay, Okay I’m sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t stop the pain!” he yells back.

“Well, then what do you want from me!”

“Um…” he says thinking and then walks over with a sly smile on his face.

By this point his hands are just dangling at his sides, where they should be, and he’s walking over. I start backing up, the image flashing through my brain, but I hit the wall and have no where to run.

“A date.” He whispers in my ear. I look around trying to find a way to escape. There is no way I won't start hyperventilating if he's within eyesight. Damn! The image was getting stronger in my mind.

I shiver, but quickly say, “No.”

“Oh, come on Chloe you owe me.”

I growl, but decide it’s true. I want him to leave and am tempted to say okay just so I can relax. It's still to early to see his face and the visual keeps developing in my brain consuming every last bit of innocence I have left in me. But you know me I don’t give in easily.

“Okay class, practice your dribbling and shooting!” our P.E teacher yells at us.

I smile thinking it's a way out, but he doesn't move. I look around desperately and my eyes land on the basketball hope.

“Fine I’ll go on a date with you if you make it in from half court. You get one shot.”

“Fine.” He says stealing an un-expecting kid’s basketball.

“Hey!” the kid begins to yell, but when he sees it’s Nick he turns around and walks away.

“That’s what I thought.” Nick says quirking an eyebrow.

“Hey, that’s not nice! Apologize!” I yell forgetting about my little mental problem for a second.

“But…”

“Nick.” I warn.

“Fine. Hey kid I’m sorry.”

The kid looks surprised and I think a few people gasp. Wow, people are so dramatic! But then again I probably shouldn’t be talking…